She couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way his hands had felt guiding hers. The catch in his breath when their magic touched. The heat of his body against her back.
She pressed her hand harder against the wall. The ward magic pulsed in response, steady and impossibly right.
She wasn’t terrified.
She wasn’t sure what she was. But terror wasn’t it.
She wondered if he was thinking about her too. If he was lying awake, replaying the same moments she couldn’t get out of her head.
Maybe he is.
Avine smiled despite herself.
TEN
THEO
The text arrived at 6:47 a.m., which meant the Elders had been plotting since at least five.
Theo stared at his phone, standing shirtless in his kitchen with coffee going cold in his hand. The message was from his great-uncle Eamon, which was unusual enough on its own—Eamon considered texting an affront to dignified communication—but the content made his wolf pace restlessly beneath his skin.
Council has decided to welcome the new innkeeper. Today. 10am. Your presence is expected.
Welcome. Right. The way sharks welcomed seals.
His thumb hovered over the screen. He should warn her. Give her time to prepare, to shore up her defenses against the well-meaning onslaught about to descend on her home. But warning her meant admitting he’d been thinking about her, and he’d been thinking about her constantly for three days, and that was a problem he wasn’t ready to examine.
His wolf disagreed—had been disagreeing loudly since he’d walked away from her kitchen, since he’d looked back once and seen her silhouetted in the doorway, since he’d felt the echo of her magic humming against his like?—
Beck crossed to the coffee pot and refilled his mug with the ease of a man who’d been letting himself into Theo’s house for two decades. “So. The entire Council of Busybodies is descending on your not-girlfriend.”
“She’s not my anything.”
Beck raised an eyebrow. One, very slowly, with the kind of theatrical precision that made Theo want to throw a dish at his head.
“Right. That’s why you haven’t slept in three days. That’s why you keep checking ward alerts on your phone like it’s a life support monitor.”
Beck dropped into a chair, making himself comfortable in that way that suggested he wasn’t leaving until he’d extracted maximum entertainment from the situation. “So what’s the plan? Storm the inn and stand guard? Growl at anyone who looks at her wrong? Maybe pee on the property line to establish territory?”
“I’m going to be present.” Theo set down his cold coffee. “As Alpha. To ensure the Elders don’t overwhelm her.”
“Ah. As Alpha.” Beck nodded sagely. “Very official. Very not-at-all about your obvious and increasingly embarrassing feelings for the witch who made your magic roll over and show its belly.”
Theo didn’t respond. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t make it worse.
“For what it’s worth,” Beck added, suddenly serious, “she’s going to need backup. The Elders smell blood in the water. The surge, the ward activation, whoever’s been messing with her inn—they’re circling, and she doesn’t know the players yet.” He paused. “Also, Garrett’s been making noise.”
Theo’s jaw tightened. His cousin Garrett had been a problem since Theo’s return—ambitious, traditional, convinced he should have been named Alpha in Theo’s decade-long absence. “What kind of noise?”
“The usual. Questioning your priorities. Suggesting the Alpha is more interested in witch affairs than pack business.” Beck’s tone was light, but his eyes had gone sharp. “Nothing actionable. Yet. But he’s got ears in the pack, and if he finds out you’re personally showing up to guard the new innkeeper…”
“Let me worry about Garrett.”
“I always do.” Beck’s grin flickered back. “Thought you should know the political landscape before you go stomping through it with your noble intentions.”
“So stop pretending this is about duty and admit you’re going because you can’t stand the thought of her facing them alone.”
Theo grabbed his shirt from the back of a chair and pulled it over his head, ignoring the knowing look Beck was giving him.
