I leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, and watched the chaos unfold with something that felt dangerously close to fondness.
Then James appeared beside me, soda in hand, a little flushed from the warmth, or maybe from the shift in energy.
His smile looked easier now. Not quite carefree, but lighter than it had been earlier.
“Better?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah.” He bumped his shoulder into mine, playful. “Still weird, seeing everyone like this. Bears and wolves. I expected more growling. Less salsa dancing.”
“We’re adaptable,” I pointed out.
James gave me a long look, thoughtful. “You really showed up for me, you know.”
I shrugged, but I didn’t look away. “Of course I would.”
He looked like he wanted to say more. His lips parted like he was debating it, but instead, he slid his hand into mine. I didn’t let go.
I never would, not if he kept looking at me like that. Like I was someone worth trusting. Worth fighting for.
Eventually, I tugged him toward the back door where the smell of charred meat was stronger, and the party had fully devolved into some unholy combo of cornhole, karaoke, and three-legged races.
Cass was yelling at Cyrus for cheating, though neither of them seemed to understand the rules.
Someone had set up a bucket as a makeshift dunk tank, and Rowan was currently losing a bet with Beau involving a water balloon and his terrible aim.
I pulled James closer until our shoulders brushed. “We’re gonna handle this. Avery. All of it.”
He leaned in, just enough for me to feel his warmth. “I believe you.”
For the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt something like… hope.
This town had always been halfway between things. Not quite territory. Not quite neutral ground. A place for strays and drifters.
A holding station between the life you left and the one you were trying to build. But tonight?
With bears and wolves yelling over the music, flipping burgers, and daring each other to shotgunning beers, with James standing beside me like I was his anchor and he was mine?
It felt like home.
He turned toward me, eyes bright. “You’re staring.”
“Can you blame me?”
He laughed, leaning his head against my shoulder for just a second. “Nah.”
Chapter 12
Rafael
Beau’s SUVcrunched over gravel as we pulled up to the warehouse on the far edge of Sugarpaw Springs.
The place looked like a ruin on the best day. Half-forgotten, sun-bleached metal siding and windows thick with grime, one of them cracked straight down the middle like a jagged scar.
It was the kind of spot you drove past without sparing a second glance… unless you knew what you were looking for.
A single exterior light flickered above the dented steel door. It buzzed like a dying hornet, casting long, stuttering shadows across the cracked pavement.
The shadows jittered across our boots as we got out.
