But I wanted to try, even if it scared the hell out of me.
Eventually, I collapsed onto the bed, still fully clothed. The night pressed in close. Outside, the wind whistled softly through the trees.
Sleep didn’t come easy.
And when it did, it brought images of James. James smiling, laughing, lips parted in a soft gasp as I kissed him again and again. My arms around him. His voice in my ear.
You’re the only one who makes me feel safe.
Chapter 7
Rafael
The bellabove the door to Wolf and Whisk jingled cheerfully as I stepped inside, though my mood was anything but.
I told myself I was only here to return the clean delivery crate Beau forgot last week. But that was a lie. A weak one. I was here for James.
Beau would’ve rolled his eyes if he knew. Sean would’ve smirked. Dorian and Cassian would’ve found some way to turn it into a group bet.
The bakery smelled like cinnamon and roasted espresso beans, sweet and nutty and warm. But it felt empty. Too quiet. The usual chatter of wolves and the hum of machines was missing.
I turned the crate over in my hands, debating leaving it on the counter and pretending this never happened. That’s when a familiar voice floated in from the kitchen.
“You’re either here to kill me or kiss me,” James called, footsteps echoing lightly. “And I’m hoping for the second one.”
I didn’t say anything as he appeared in the doorway, still wearing his Wolf and Whisk apron, sleeves pushed up, flour dusted on his cheek like war paint.
“Oh wow,” he said, stopping short and grinning. “You actually came. Don’t tell me. Are you that worried about me, you’d sacrifice your precious lunch break?”
I grunted. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
James’s smirk widened. “Too late.”
My arms crossed on instinct, but it felt too stiff. He was right, anyway. I had been worried. After what happened with that goon the other night, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.
He’d looked small in that alley. Cornered. But he’d also looked strong. Brave. And way too alone.
“You’re by yourself?” I asked, glancing around the bakery uneasily.
The space was too quiet. No chatter, no Rowan yelling over a mixer, no Cyrus cracking jokes from behind the counter.
Just James, apron smudged with flour and hair slightly tousled like he’d been running around nonstop. Shouldn’t there be at least one other wolf here with him?
That also begged the question. Did Callum and the others really not know about James’ situation? I frowned, my bear stirring beneath my skin. Protective. Restless.
James didn’t seem like the type to lie. Not in the way Kellen used to, all charm and misdirection. But still, he’d kept this whole damn mess with that goon under wraps.
He wasn’t just dodging trouble. He was burying it, locking it up tight like he was afraid of what would happen if anyone really looked too closely. Was he protecting himself? Or protecting them?
I could guess. I’d seen that quiet tension in his shoulders. The kind that said,don’t ask, I’m fine.I’d seen that too many times in Ironfalls, in the eyes of shifters just trying to survive.
James had that same look. Like the moment he let someone in, they’d turn away. Or worse. See him as a burden. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t told Callum or the others.
Not because he didn’t trust them… but because he did. Because they were his pack. Because he didn’t want to be the weak link. And hell, if I were in his shoes, I might’ve done the same.
No. I had done the same. For years. If something went sideways, I handled it myself. If I couldn’t?
I only let one person in. Beau. And that was only because Beau was like a brother to me and I trusted him to have my back. Maybe James didn’t have someone like that in his pack.
