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“Make sure he shifts somewhere soft.”

“If he growls during sex, it means he’s into it.”

“Let him sleep near your dirty laundry. It bonds him to your scent.”

I wanted to evaporate.

A chime rang through the house. Everyone turned toward the main table where Lucien stood, mimosa raised like some kind of dramatic brunch prophet.

“To our pack,” he said, voice booming. “Our strength has always been our bond. The world changes, but our connection keeps us steady. I look around and see a future bright with new beginnings, new mates, new alliances. To those still choosing, we support you. We celebrate you. I, for one, can’t wait to see which connections solidify in the coming weeks.”

Glasses clinked. People cheered. Maggie was staring at Lucien like he’d grown a second head.

“These people are insane,” she whispered under her breath.

She wasn’t wrong.

The mingling resumed. I got pulled into a conversation about perimeter security with an overzealous council member, and when I turned back around, Maggie wasn’t alone.

Some baby-faced shifter in a too-tight tan suit was standing way too close to Maggie. His cologne hit before his voice did—some cloying vanilla-amber mix that reeked of desperation and a mid-tier department store. He had one arm braced behind her like he was boxing her in, and he was grinning like he’d already won.

“I’m just saying,” he said in a voice that was too smooth, too practiced, “if I were lucky enough to be your date tonight, I wouldn’t be standing so far away.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t her real laugh. It wasn’t the laugh that crinkled her nose and made people fall for her by accident. No, this laugh was uncomfortable and awkward.

“You know,” the guy went on, his eyes dipping far too low, “your smile could cause accidents. Literally. I’d probably crash my car looking at you.”

I clenched my jaw so hard, I heard something crack.

She leaned back slightly, as much as she could manage with the wall behind her. “You should probably keep your eyes on the road, Jeremy.”

He leaned in even closer to her. Close enough I felt my entire body go still. “Not a chance. Not with you standing there looking like sin in heels.”

She blinked, clearly not knowing how to respond, before her gaze slid sideways and locked on me. Challenge accepted. I moved before my brain caught up. Three long strides. No hesitation.

I slipped in beside her and put my hand on the small of her back, leaving no space between us.

Maggie didn’t flinch or pull away. She leaned into me. Just a little. Just enough to drive me insane.

“Oh, Roman,” she said sweetly. “Have you met Jeremy?”

“He’s twelve.”

Jeremy frowned. “I’m twenty-four.”

“Still twelve emotionally,” I muttered.

Maggie snorted, and we turned and walked toward the dessert table without giving Jeremy a chance to interject. My fingers still tingled from touching her.

“What was that?” I asked quietly.

She crinkled her nose in a way I refused to find cute right now. “What?”

I stopped walking and looked at her. Really looked at her.

“Be careful, Mags,” I said, voice low. Seeing her with Jeremy, knowing Lucien had eyes and ears everywhere, was too much for me, and I felt my control slipping a little. I didn’t know what to do with everything swirling in my chest. “You know how much scrutiny we’re under.”

She gave me a curious look, like she was trying to figure out what had gotten me so twisted up. My body ached with the heat, the tension, the instinct to claim. I could still feel the phantom warmth of her back under my hand.