I shifted, easing my side against the railing, suddenly uncertain about my suggestion. “Or that might not work at all. I don’t know much about wolf politics.”
“It’s brilliant.”
“Oh.”
“Absolutely brilliant.” He moved closer, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
I’d spent thirteen years proving strength was the answer. Old habit.
“You’ve been trying to think like an alpha. Sometimes you need to think like a researcher. Look at the variables, find the pattern. Then the solution becomes clear.”
“I might have something for you too,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Old pack-sealing magic is buried near border markers. They chose specific locations, usually near water sources or natural boundaries. If someone broke a seal, deliberately or not, the residue would look exactly like what you’re describing.”
My mind raced, recalibrating everything. “There might be other markers. Other broken seals.”
“If this is happening at multiple sites, it could explain why the sickness is spreading.”
“And if we can find a pattern among broken seals, we might be able to predict where the sickness will appear next.”
“And we might be able to fix the seals. Repair them somehow.”
We both went quiet as the implications settled over us.
We’d just made progress on two separate problems by talking it out together. The realization sat between us, and I found it quite significant, though I didn’t know what to do about it.
Things felt different between us. Charged. He stood close, with moonlight caught in his dark hair. Warmth radiated from him despite the cool night air.
Inside, through the open door, I could hear Acorn’s soft snores from the sofa. At least he wasn’t offering commentary on whatever was happening between Feral and me.
“I expected a wolf king to be less useful in a research context,” I said, aiming for a light tone.
“I expected a witch to be less useful in political negotiations.”
The corner of my mouth tugged up. “I suppose we’re both full of surprises.”
“I suppose we are.”
We both looked out at the forest. Then we both looked at each other.
He moved first, but slowly. Giving me time to step back, to stop this before it started.
I didn’t.
His hand came up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. The touch sent heat spiraling through me, scattering every logical thought I possessed.
Then he kissed me. It wasn’t a passionate claiming or a tentative question, but something in between. A door opening. An invitation offered with the chance to turn it down.
I didn’t.
His mouth was firm and sure, the faint scrape of his stubble on his face sending a shiver across my skin. My hands lifted on their own, and I gripped the front of his shirt as I leaned into him, as if my body had already decided this was where it fit.
Warmth poured through me, melting something I hadn’t even realized I was holding tight, until the world narrowed to the press of his mouth and the steady way he held me.
When he drew back, the cool night air rushed in, and I swayed toward him before I could stop myself, my thoughts scattered across the balcony floor.
