“The pack monitors the ward lines as part of our agreement with the coven.” Theo stepped back, giving her space. Giving himself space, too, because being this close to her was making it hard to think. “I’ll have someone check them weekly. Standard procedure. Not special treatment.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then I’ll respect that.” He would. It would kill him, but he would. “But I hope you’ll reconsider. The wards connect to the entire town. If anything destabilizes here, it affects everyone.”
She studied him. Weighing. Assessing. Looking for the trap.
“Weekly checks.” Her voice was measured. “With advance notice. And I reserve the right to tell you to leave.”
“Fair enough.”
Beck materialized from around the corner, timing impeccable as always. “Perimeter’s clean. Ward stones are stable. Whatever she did, the magic liked it.” He directed the last part at Avine with a friendly nod. “The house hasn’t been this happy since before the Marsh-Vance thing. Which nobody talks about, so don’t ask.”
“The what?”
“Exactly.” Beck grinned. “Welcome to Haven Shores, Avine Bell. It’s going to be a wild ride.”
Theo was already moving toward the truck. Had to. Because if he stayed any longer, he was going to do something ill-advised. Say something revealing. Acknowledge what his wolf had been screaming at him since the moment he’d laid eyes on her.
“Theo.”
He stopped. Turned.
Avine stood in the doorway of her inn, one hand on the frame. The light behind her turned her into a silhouette—dark hair, determined posture, the faint glow of magic still clinging to her skin.
“Thank you.” The words seemed to cost her. “For… hearing me.”
“Get some rest.” His voice was low, scraped thin. “The house chose well.”
He turned away before he could see her reaction. Climbed into the truck. Sat there gripping the door handle until his fingers ached.
Beck slid into the passenger seat without comment. For once.
They were halfway down the cliff road before he spoke. “So. Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Cool. Cool, cool, cool.” Beck stretched his legs out, perfectly casual. “Ulna called. Asked if we needed backup. I told her you were handling a sensitive situation.”
“Beck.”
“She asked if ‘sensitive situation’ was code for ‘found his mate.’ I said no. I lied.”
Theo’s grip tightened on the wheel. “It’s not—I don’t?—”
“Whatever this is? You don’t have to figure it out alone.”
The words landed in his gut, heavy and true. He filed them away, along with everything else he wasn’t ready to examine.
They drove in silence through the dark streets of Haven Shores. Past Gilly’s Brew & Bite, still lit up and busy with the evening crowd. Past the cobblestones of the Old Wards District, where candles flickered in shop windows. Past the harbor, where boats rocked gently at their moorings and the lighthouse swept its patient beam across the water.
His town. His responsibility. His home.
And somewhere on the cliff above it all, a witch who’d walked into his life and turned everything sideways.
FIVE
AVINE
