CHECK MATED

A COZY QUEERWOLF STORY

QUEERWOLF

BOOK 2.5

HARMONY FULLER

Copyright © 2025 by Harmony Fuller

All rights reserved.

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Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

ISBN: 9798312230741

CHAPTER 1

"Holy mother of dust bunnies!" I choked out, waving a hand in front of my face as I followed my boss into what she was optimistically calling our new clinic. Sunlight filtered through broken windows, catching motes of dust that swirled like tiny tornadoes in our wake.

"Did you find this place in the 'fixer-upper from hell' section of Craigslist?"

"It has potential," Olivia insisted, picking her way through the last remnants of scattered hay bales and what looked suspiciously like decades-old feed bags.

"It’s a barn," I countered, gingerly lifting a rag with two fingers, half-expecting a mouse family to pop out or for it to crumble into dust. "An ancient one."

"It’s not that old," Olivia argued, kicking an empty ground coffee can across the floor. The clink, clink of its metal against the wood only reinforced my point.

"I know love makes you crazy boss, but this is next-level nuts." I sneezed dramatically for effect. "I mean, I get it—Naomi’s gorgeous, and leaving Brett was definitely an upgrade—but did she have to live on a property that comes with its own tetanus factory?"

Olivia shot me a look that was probably meant to be stern but couldn’t quite hide her smile. "The barn is structurally sound. It just needs some work. Plus, it’s free, a savings I could have passed along to my help if they weren’t so grumpy about it."

I rolled my eyes. "Some work?" I gestured at a cobweb so massive it could’ve housed the entire cast of Charlotte’s Web. "This place needs an exorcism. I’m pretty sure I saw something move in that corner, and I’m not talking about the mice."

"Daisy..."

"No, seriously, what’s the renovation plan? Step one: survive. Step two: pray?" I laughed, taking some of the sting out of my words.

But even as I joked, I found myself wandering deeper into the space, past the debris of its former life. The barn was huge, with high ceilings and solid bones beneath all the mess. Natural light poured in from the upper windows, and despite my dramatic protests, I could start to see what Olivia meant about potential.

"Okay," I admitted, turning slowly to take it all in. "Maybe—and I mean maybe—this isn't completely insane. The layout could work for exam rooms along this wall, and that loft space would make a killer rec room… err, storage."

"See?" Olivia beamed. "I knew you’d get it once you looked past the⁠—"

"Post-apocalyptic aesthetic?"

"I was going to say 'current condition.'"

I ran a hand along a wooden beam, surprisingly solid under years of dust. "We’re gonna need new everything. Windows, floors, walls..." I paused, eyeing a particularly suspicious stain. "Please tell me this place has running water at least, or do we need to dig a well? Because I draw the line at pioneer medicine."

"There’s plumbing," Olivia assured me. "And electricity. Naomi tells me it just needs to be hooked up, and apparently, there are a few people here on the grounds who’d love to help with the demo and rebuild."

"Well, thank God for small miracles." I pulled out my phone, starting a list. "Alright, boss lady, hit me with your vision. But if you say anything about 'rustic charm,' I’m walking."

"Actually," Olivia started, and I could hear that tone in her voice—the one that usually meant I was about to get volunteered for something. "I was thinking we could start with-"

"If you say clearing out those feed bags, I quit," I interrupted, throwing my hands up. "I’ve seen enough horror movies to know what lives in ancient feed bags, and I am not⁠—"

My theatrical protest was cut short as I backed directly into the very stack of bags I'd been protesting.

The dusty pile swayed ominously.

I had exactly one second to think well, this is embarrassing before the whole thing started to topple.

A montage of my life—featuring a variety of breakfast burritos and bad tv—flashed before my eyes. I had just enough time to regret all the burritos I’d never get to eat before I was smothered under a pile of mite-infested burlap.

But then—bam.

A blur of movement.

Strong hands steadied both me and the falling bags before disaster could strike.

I spun around, already preparing to thank Olivia for her unexpectedly swift reflexes—only to find myself staring into the most striking green eyes I had ever seen.

Now, I’m not usually the type to get tongue-tied. Ask anyone—I always have something to say. But for a moment, all I could do was blink at the stranger who had just prevented my untimely demise via agriculture.

She was lean but strong, judging by how easily she had caught both me and the collapsing debris. Her dark hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail, but those eyes... they caught the light streaming through the broken windows, making them almost glow—emeralds flecked with gold.

Finally, my brain kicked back into gear.

"My hero!" I declared, finding my voice. "Though I gotta say, if this place is already trying to kill me, we might need hazard pay."

The corners of her mouth twitched, like she was fighting a smile. "Pretty sure hazard pay doesn’t kick in until at least the third near-death experience around here," she replied, her voice quiet but tinged with dry humor.

"Oh, so you’re saying I’ve got two more free attempts at becoming one with the feed bags before I can file a claim?" I grinned, oddly pleased when that earned me an actual smile.

"I’d recommend spacing them out," she said, deadpan. "Paperwork’s a nightmare if you cluster your workplace accidents. Plus, it’s harder to believe if you almost die three times in a single day."

"Grounds for being fired, I’d think."

I laughed, delighted by her dry wit. "Well, since you saved me from becoming a cautionary tale about barn safety, the least I can do is thank you properly. How do you feel about breakfast burritos? I make a mean chorizo and egg. Plus, I’m pretty sure I was just seeing a vision about them right before you saved me."

Something flickered in those fascinating green eyes. "You don’t even know my name yet."

"True. I’m Daisy—professional disaster, vet tech to Olivia, and apparently in dire need of a safety supervisor." I stuck out my hand, and when she took it, I swore I felt a spark.

"Rylee," she answered, and oh, that little half-smile was doing things to my insides. "And I wouldn’t say no to breakfast burritos."

Before I could respond (possibly with something embarrassingly eager), someone called Rylee’s name from outside. She gave me an apologetic look.

"I should⁠—"

"Go, go. Save someone else from imminent death by agriculture." I waved her off, trying not to feel disappointed. "But I’m serious about those burritos!"

She nodded, that hint of a smile still playing around her lips, and headed for the door.

I watched her go, definitely not admiring the way she moved (okay, maybe a little), before turning back—only to find Olivia giving me a knowing look.

"What?" I asked, feeling my cheeks heat.

"Nothing," she said innocently. "Just thinking maybe this barn isn’t so next-level nuts anymore?"

"Shut up," I muttered, but I couldn't hide my grin.

Then, I cocked my head, trying to listen for any sign that Rylee was still nearby.

Not that I cared.

Obviously.

But, you know, for logistical reasons. Like, what if I had follow-up questions about barn safety?

Completely valid.

“Does she work here?”

Olivia’s brows lifted, and a slow smile curled at the corners of her mouth. A smile that would have mildly concerned me before she got together with Naomi. But now? Now it terrified me, because that smile screamed meddling.

“Lives here, actually,” she said casually, bending over to shuffle through a pile of rusted equestrian tools. “Even has a wolf of her own.”

“Let me guess, named Rylee?” I asked, still baffled by the whole naming your wolf after yourself thing the women who lived at Mayfield Meadows did. Something about it making it easier to keep track of them? It still seemed weirdly self-obsessed to me.

“Of course.” Olivia pulled out a horseshoe, turning it over like she was actually inspecting it instead of setting up whatever scheme she had brewing. “She’s a beautiful wolf. Mix of dark browns and blacks, lean but tough.” She tossed me a glance, way too innocent. “I’m sure if you called, she might just come running.”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "Let’s focus on making this place less Children of the Corn and more Dr. Dolittle before I start trying to make friends with the local wildlife.”

But, okay. Maybe a tiny part of me wondered if Rylee’s wolf had the same striking green eyes as her human caretaker. I’d seen a husky once with green eyes, but never a wolf. Not that I had extensive experience, aside from Wolf Naomi, who strangely never seemed to be around when I visited. I had seen her almost daily at the clinic, fed her burritos, napped with her on the break room couch, did… other totally valid vet tech related things.

Before I could go down that rabbit hole, Olivia gestured toward the far end of the barn.

“Want to see where your exam room will be?”

“’My’ exam room?” I blinked at her, stepping over a suspicious-looking pile of something formerly organic. “First of all, not a doctor. And second, I thought we were figuring out the layout together?”

“We are,” Olivia said breezily, already leading me deeper into the barn. “But I know you’re going to want the room with the best natural light for your workspace. Plus, if we’re taking care of the wolves and still seeing the usual menagerie from town, I’ll need more than just a vet tech helping me run things.”

She turned, smiling at me like she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.

“Thought you might like a bump up to lead vet tech. Comes with your own exam room.”

I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. “Does it also come with one of those small TVs I can watch while pretending to do charts?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

She tried to be stern, but I knew that actually meant, yes, because it doesn’t come with a raise, so obviously a TV is included.

And honestly? I could live with that.

With a shrug, I pulled out my phone, switching to a measurement app while simultaneously queuing up my Barn Raising playlist. If we were going to exorcise this place of its haunted farm vibes, we needed tunes. The opening riff of Come Together (and Build a Barn) echoed through the rafters as I started taking measurements, throwing in a little dance step for good measure.

That was when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

I glanced toward the barn doors just in time to see Rylee had returned, helping unload what looked like lumber and construction supplies from a truck outside. Not that I was watching her. I was just… observing the workflow.

She lifted the heavy boards with zero effort, her movements precise, efficient. Almost graceful, in that way where every motion seemed perfectly calculated.

And, okay. Maybe I got a little distracted watching her. Strictly for… occupational hazard assessment purposes.

For the next twenty minutes, I tried to focus on my measurements, but I kept finding reasons to glance at the door. You know, just to make sure no one needed help.

It was pure coincidence that every time I looked, I got to see Rylee in action.

And, somewhere along the way, she had taken off her jacket, leaving just a fitted dark tank underneath. Which, obviously, meant someone needed to make sure her jacket didn’t mysteriously disappear. You know, security reasons.

So, naturally, I had to keep an eye on her to ensure it stayed where it belonged.

Important.

Finally, the truck was empty, and the workers started breaking off into smaller groups.

Rylee disappeared for a few agonizingly long minutes before she returned, carrying what looked like a battered old chess board.

She set it up on a crate in a cleared-out corner of the barn, settling in with the kind of quiet focus that, after watching her working solo for half the morning, I was starting to recognize as very Rylee.

I tilted my head, intrigued despite myself.

Chess?

Interesting.

I found myself wandering closer, measurement app and lunch both forgotten. "Taking a strategic approach to renovation planning?"

Rylee looked up, and that little half-smile I was quickly becoming addicted to made another appearance. "Something like that. Chess helps me think."

"Fancy." I peered at the board, recognizing maybe three pieces from that Netflix show I'd binged last month. "Though I have to admit, the only thing I know about chess comes from that series with the pretty redhead."

Her eyes lit up. "That's actually what got me back into playing seriously again. I had stopped for the longest time until Lydia found this old board…” She paused, like she’d just realized she was oversharing.

No way was I letting her get embarrassed over something this cute.

"You're kidding!" I perched on an overturned bucket near the crate, renovation duties completely abandoned. "Though I’m guessing you skipped the whole ‘playing games on the ceiling while high on tranquilizers’ part?"

That earned me a soft laugh. "Surprisingly, that wasn’t part of my training regimen. It’s actually kind of hard to get tranquilizers out here."

I grinned. "Not now that the clinic’s opening."

Her face immediately made me regret the joke, so I waved a hand like I was scrubbing it from the record. "Not that we would do that! Or want to! We definitely don't encourage recreational tranquilizer use."

Rylee arched a brow, but her lips twitched. "Good to know."

Okay, time to pivot. "So what’s your deal? Are you one of those people who can play, like, fifteen games at once in their head?"

"Not quite." She moved a piece, then looked up at me thoughtfully. "But I could teach you the basics, if you want."

"Really?" I tried not to sound too eager, but come on—gorgeous, geeky woman offering to spend time with me? Yes, please. "I should warn you though, my strategy skills max out at planning the optimal burrito-to-coffee ratio for breakfast. Although," I added with a grin, "I have perfected that particular formula."

"Speaking of those breakfast burritos you mentioned..." She trailed off meaningfully, and was that a hint of flirtation I detected?

"Oh, so this is just a long con for breakfast?"

She shrugged, not denying it.

"Tell you what—teach me chess, and I’ll bring breakfast. But don’t expect any brilliant strategies from me until after I’ve had at least two cups of coffee."

She nodded solemnly, though her eyes danced with amusement. "Noted. Strategy is directly proportional to caffeine intake. Understood.”

"Exactly! Finally, someone who understands my process." I watched as she reset the board with quick, practiced movements. "Though I have to warn you, if you're expecting some kind of chess prodigy, you're going to be sorely disappointed. The most strategic thing I've done all week was figuring out how to fit three different flavors of coffee creamer in the clinic's mini fridge."

That earned me another one of those quiet laughs that were quickly becoming my favorite sound. "Everyone starts somewhere. Even Beth Harmon had to learn which way the horse moves."

"Oh god, is that the jumping one? Because that's going to be a problem..."

"Daisy!" Olivia’s voice carried from the other end of the barn. "Stop flirting and come look at these blueprints with me!"

I felt my cheeks heat. "I wasn’t—" But Rylee was already gathering her chess pieces with that subtle smile, and really, who was I kidding? I’d absolutely been flirting.

"Tomorrow?" she asked quietly, tucking the board under her arm.

"Tomorrow," I confirmed, probably too quickly. "Same time? I’ll bring enough burritos to feed a wolf."

Her eyes did that fascinating glinting thing again as she smiled. "Perfect."

I forced myself to walk back to where Olivia was spreading papers across another crate, trying not to grin like an idiot. The blueprints were old and faded, but they’d help with planning the renovation. I did my best to focus as Olivia pointed out potential exam rooms, recovery areas, and where the electrical and water hookups were just outside. But my attention kept drifting toward the door Rylee had disappeared through.

"Earth to Daisy," Olivia waved a hand in front of my face. "Are you even listening?"

"Of course!" I said automatically. "You were talking about... um... the thing with the stuff?"

She snorted. "The electrical layout. But I’m thinking we should call it a day. You’re clearly distracted, and we’ve got plenty of time to figure out the wiring details."

"Sorry." I started helping her gather the blueprints. "It’s just been a lot to take in. The barn, the wolves, the…" I trailed off, not wanting to say incredibly attractive lady chess player out loud.

Olivia smirked. "The Rylee?"

"Shut up."

And then, like the universe had a sense of humor, Rylee passed by the barn entrance again. She caught my eye and gave a small wave, which I returned maybe a bit too enthusiastically. When I looked back, Olivia was grinning like she’d just won the lottery.

"Not. One. Word." I warned.

"I didn’t say anything!"

"Your face is saying plenty."

On the drive home, I couldn’t stop thinking about green eyes and quiet smiles. At a red light, I pulled out my phone and texted Olivia:

Maybe this wolf sanctuary thing won’t be so bad after all.

Her reply came almost instantly:

You haven’t even seen her wolf yet.

I grinned, already mentally cataloging the ingredients I’d need for tomorrow’s breakfast feast.

God, I’d have to get up early.

As I pulled into my driveway, a thought struck me—I should probably Google how that horse piece moves. You know, just so I don’t look like a complete disaster tomorrow.

Then again, being a disaster had worked out pretty well for me so far today.

CHAPTER 2

4:30 AM was an ungodly hour to be awake, but here I was, chopping onions while watching a chess tutorial on YouTube. The nerdy college student on-screen was explaining the difference between bishops and rooks for what felt like the hundredth time, but my sleep-deprived brain was more focused on not losing a finger than memorizing move patterns.

"The horse moves in an L-shape," I muttered, sliding diced onions into a sizzling pan. "L-shape. L-shape. L... wait, which way is an L supposed to go again? Three squares?"

My phone buzzed, and I quickly wiped my hands to check it.

Olivia: Why are you watching chess videos at 4:30 in the morning?

Me: How do you know I’m watching chess videos?

Olivia: You’re still sharing your YouTube activity to our work Discord, remember? You set it up months ago so I could see which shows had the juiciest gossip.

I did. I did indeed remember that. Just now.

Me: …shut up

I dropped my phone and turned back to shake the pan, sending onions flying. A full pound of spicy chorizo sat in a bowl to my right, waiting for its turn. I reached for it, about to toss some in, when a thought hit me.

Me: Quick question since you're up (which, why are you up?) – do wolves eat chorizo? Like, is it bad for them?

Olivia: Shouldn’t you know this?

Me: I’m not a wolf tech!

Olivia: You kinda are now.

I rolled my eyes and jabbed at my phone with a stern finger.

Me: Can they though?

Olivia: Planning on feeding both Rylee and her wolf?

Me: I just want to be prepared! What if her wolf shows up while we’re playing? I can’t NOT feed it.

I could practically hear her laughter from across town. Seconds ticked by before my screen lit up again.

Olivia: Chorizo is fine. Though maybe pack extra. Wolves have quite an appetite. Especially working ones.

I stared at my phone, then at the mountain of ingredients already covering my counter. Good thing I’d already planned on making enough to feed a small army.

Or one very hungry wolf.

Still, I wasn’t about to let her get the last laugh.

Me: So why are you awake?

Olivia: Maybe I was feeding a wolf of my own.

It was 4 AM, and I didn’t have a response to that.

The tutorial droned on in the background as I assembled what might have been the world’s most elaborate breakfast burrito spread. Chorizo and egg burritos, bacon and potato burritos, and even a few vegetarian ones because hey, maybe wolves liked options?

I had no idea.

The internet had been surprisingly unhelpful about wolf dietary preferences, especially regarding breakfast burritos.

"Knight to E4," my phone announced cheerfully as I wrapped the last burrito in foil. "This classic opening move⁠—"

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, carefully packing everything into my largest cooler. "Let’s focus on not embarrassing ourselves before we worry about classic opening moves."

The knight was a horse, and it moved in an L.

Damn, I was good.

Five minutes later, I caught my reflection in the microwave and groaned. I'd changed shirts three times already.

"Get it together, Daisy," I muttered, pointing a stern finger at my reflection. "It’s just chess. With a pretty girl. Who has amazing green eyes and a pet wolf. Who you are seeing while attending a barn raising. Totally normal Tuesday."

The drive to Mayfield Meadows was somehow both too long and too short. I’d left earlier than necessary, but the compound was already bustling as the sun crested over the flat Midwest landscape. More workers than yesterday were unloading supplies near the barn, and I could have sworn I saw a wolf watching from the tree line. But when I tried to get a better look, it disappeared.

As I hauled my burrito-filled cooler from the car, I couldn’t help but wonder if that had been Rylee’s wolf. It made sense—she’d be nearby if Rylee was. And I had just seen Rylee herself carrying a ladder into the barn, moving with the kind of easy strength that made it impossible not to stare.

"Wonder if wolves mind construction sites?" I mused aloud before shaking my head. "Focus, Daisy. Chess first, then barn building, wolf-watching later."

Still, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something interesting was happening at Mayfield Meadows. Something beyond just old barns, chess lessons, and green eyes that seemed to glow in the morning light.

But that was a mystery for after coffee. Right now, I had a chess game to lose spectacularly and way too many breakfast burritos to deliver.

The barn had already undergone a transformation overnight. Someone had cleared a cozy corner near one of the newly cleaned windows, setting up a makeshift break area with crates and what looked suspiciously like lawn furniture rescued from a garage sale.

Rylee was already there by the time I walked in, chessboard arranged on a stable-enough crate, her striking green eyes locked onto the pieces like they held the secrets of the universe. She looked up as I approached, and that subtle, impossible-to-forget smile appeared.

"You came," she said, checking her watch. "And at 8 AM sharp. Olivia warned us you might not show up until ten most days."

That stung. Not much. But still.

I shrugged it off with a grin. "Of course I came! And with provisions!" I hefted the cooler. "Though fair warning—I may have gone a little overboard."

Her eyebrows rose as I started unpacking my bounty. "A little?"

"Hey, I didn’t know if your wolf would show up. Or anyone elses, for that matter. Figured better safe than sorry." I lined up the foil-wrapped burritos in neat rows, probably unnecessarily. "Plus, you know, workers to feed and all that."

Something flickered in her expression at the mention of her wolf—something I couldn’t quite place.

"My wolf?" she echoed, her voice careful.

I hesitated but nodded. "Yeah, she’s yours, right? The one Olivia mentioned?" I pulled out a thermos of coffee and some cups. "I even made veggie options, just in case one of your wolves is a vegetarian."

She gave me a look like I’d just suggested putting a wolf on a gluten-free diet.

I felt my face heat. "I mean, they’re opportunistic hunters, so if the veggie presented itself⁠—"

A soft laugh escaped her, and the sound sent that stupid skip through my heart again.

"I can safely say that wolves are not vegetarians."

"Figured. But, you know, just in case."

I flopped onto an ancient lawn chair that groaned in protest. "So, ready to witness my complete lack of chess skills?"

"We'll start with the basics." Rylee began arranging pieces, her movements precise and confident. I tried not to get distracted by her hands—strong but graceful, guiding each piece into place like they belonged there.

"Do you know how any of the pieces move?"

"The horse goes in an L!" I announced proudly, sitting up straighter. I wasn’t about to tell her I’d been up at the butt crack of dawn learning that fact.

Her lips twitched. "The knight," she corrected gently, picking up the piece in question. "And yes, it moves in an L-shape—two squares in one direction, then one square perpendicular to that." She demonstrated the move with practiced ease, and I nodded along like I totally understood.

"Right, just like in Passion’s Fury when the Alpha had to move in specific patterns to avoid the silver traps!"

The words were out before I could stop them.

Rylee’s hand froze over the board. "What?"

"Oh, um, just this telenovela I watch sometimes." I could feel my cheeks heating up. "It’s about these supernatural creatures, and there’s this whole thing with chess metaphors and—" I waved a hand. "You know what? Never mind. I got up too early and wasn’t thinking. Let’s focus on the game."

"No, please," and oh, was that amusement in her voice? "Tell me more about these... supernatural creatures."

I dragged out the word, torn between embarrassment and excitement. "Well… in the show, they’re these shifter beings who can change form, and they’re all super dramatic about everything. Like, there’s this whole episode where the main character has to prove her love by completing an elaborate chess-like ritual under the full moon…"

Rylee made a strangled sound that could’ve been a laugh or a cough. "That’s... interesting."

"I know, I know, it’s totally ridiculous." I grabbed a burrito, unwrapping it mostly just to keep my hands busy. "But it’s fun! And hey, at least it got me semi-started with chess, right?"

"Is that what you call this?" She was definitely fighting a smile now. "Should we focus on the actual rules? Unless you’d rather teach me the, ah, supernatural version?"

"No, no, regular chess is fine." I leaned forward, trying very hard to focus on the pieces and not on how close our hands were on the board. "Though I have to say, the telenovela version involves way more howling."

This time, she really laughed—a real, full laugh that lit up her entire face, and something about it made my stomach flip.

"I imagine it would."

The lesson continued, with Rylee patiently explaining each piece’s movement while I tried (and mostly failed) to remember them all. At one point, she reached over to correct my grip on a bishop, her fingers brushing against mine for the briefest second.

A tingle ran up my arm.

"Sorry," she murmured, pulling back quickly.

"No, it’s fine!" I said—probably too enthusiastically. "I mean, I need all the help I can get. Though in Moon’s Embrace, they say you have to let the pieces guide you with their ancient wisdom..."

Rylee’s expression was carefully neutral, but her eyes were dancing. "Do they now?"

"Oh yeah, it’s very spiritual. There’s this whole thing about connecting with your inner wolf spirit while playing." I moved my pawn forward, then immediately frowned. "Wait. Can pawns go backward?"

"No," Rylee said, still fighting that elusive smile. "And inner wolf spirits aren’t usually part of standard chess strategy."

"Shame. I could use the help." I watched as she demonstrated a proper pawn move, her fingers gliding over the board like she was born to do it. "Though speaking of wolves, will I get to meet yours at some point? Olivia says she’s beautiful."

Something flickered across Rylee’s face—something complicated. "She’s... shy around new people."

I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Probably worried I’ll try to feed her a veggie burrito."

She huffed a quiet laugh, but her expression didn’t quite match the sound. Before I could ask, she glanced away, fingers briefly hesitating over her rook.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, my joking tone softening. "You looked weird for a second there."

"Just thinking about my next move," she said quickly, but her hands weren’t as steady as before.

I didn’t buy it.

Before I could press further, a loud crash from the other end of the barn made us both jump. A ladder had fallen, and workers scrambled to right it. I glanced around, brow furrowing. The barn wasn’t exactly packed when I arrived, but now it felt... emptier. Like people had slipped away when I wasn’t looking.

Weird.

"Check," Rylee said smoothly, pulling my focus back to the board.

I blinked. "Already? But we just started!"

Her lips quirked. "Maybe you should’ve consulted your inner wolf spirit."

And just like that, the strange moment passed, replaced by the easy rhythm of our game, of her teasing smirk, of the warmth curling low in my stomach.

We reset the board, and as much as my instincts told me something odd was going on at Mayfield Meadows, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Because across the chessboard, Rylee smiled at me.

And honestly? Strange or not, I was exactly where I wanted to be.

"Well, well, well," Olivia’s voice sliced through my concentration just as I was about to make what I was sure would be another terrible move. "I see my vet tech has abandoned her measuring duties in favor of getting thoroughly destroyed at chess."

I clutched my chest dramatically. "Excuse you, I'll have you know I’ve captured at least three of her pawns."

Olivia arched a brow, glancing at the sad little pile of white pieces on my side of the crate. "She let you have them."

"I did not," Rylee protested, but the slight upturn of her lips betrayed her.

"Uh-huh." Olivia crossed her arms, trying to look stern but failing miserably. "You know, technically, I should dock your pay for slacking off."

I gestured to my cooler with all the self-importance of someone making a Very Important Contribution. "But look! I provided sustenance for your workforce. That’s basically the same as helping."

"Speaking of which..." Olivia peered inside the cooler, which, despite Rylee and I each having three and two burritos respectively, still held enough to feed a small army. Rylee had actually called them amazing, which had me blushing like an absolute fool. "I think I know how you can make up for abandoning your post. Mind if I distribute these to the crew?"

"Go for it," I said quickly, then added, "But leave a few! You know, in case Rylee’s wolf shows up."

Something unspoken passed between Olivia and my chess partner—quick, subtle, but definitely something. Before I could ask, Olivia was already gathering up burritos. "Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everyone gets fed. Including any wolves that might appear." She winked at Rylee, who suddenly became very interested in reorganizing her captured pieces.

I watched as Olivia made her way through the barn, handing out burritos to the workers. Though strangely, there seemed to be fewer people now than I remembered earlier.

"Hey," I turned back to Rylee, brow furrowing. "Where did everyone go? I could’ve sworn there were more people working on the roof section."

"Shifts," Rylee said quickly—perhaps too quickly. "Some work mornings, others afternoons. You know, like a normal job? Keeps the workflow steady."

"But it’s only..." I glanced at my watch, blinking as though I could reset the numbers by sheer will. 3 PM. My jaw nearly hit the crate.

"Wait. We’ve been playing for five hours since our last break? How did that happen?"

Rylee gave a small, knowing smile. "Time flies when you’re getting wrecked at chess."

"Unbelievable," I muttered, shaking my head before moving my knight—a move I was fairly confident was legal. (I hoped.) “Guess that means I did learn something today.”

She tilted her head, considering me. "Yeah?"

I grinned. "Yeah. That your laugh is the best kind of victory and worth overtime.”

Something flickered in those green eyes, something warm. Before I could overanalyze it, I added, "Also, I think I figured out where those workers keep disappearing to."

Rylee stiffened, barely perceptible. "Oh?"

"Yeah." I leaned forward conspiratorially. "They're just there one minute and gone the next. Kind of like a wolf."

Rylee’s hand jerked, knocking over her bishop. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, just that even when Naomi—the wolf, not your Naomi—used to come to the clinic, she’d just appear out of nowhere. Super stealthy, super quiet. Around here, it’s the same thing. I know there have to be at least twenty or thirty wolves on this property from what Olivia’s told me, but they just... vanish. One second they’re there, the next—poof." I tapped my fingers on the crate. "In fact, I swear I saw a wolf watching me from the trees when I pulled up, but when I looked again, it was gone. Was that yours? Olivia said yours is dark-colored..."

"Could have been anyone’s wolf," she muttered, righting her bishop with slightly shaky fingers. "They all look pretty dark from a distance. Natural coloration and all."

I narrowed my eyes, studying her reaction. Rylee was cool, sure, but too cool—like a kid insisting they definitely hadn’t stolen the last cookie, despite the crumbs all over their face.

Suspicious.

But the problem was, I had no idea what the cookie meant or even which jar she had pulled it from.

Super suspicious.

"You know," I mused, dragging out the words, "this reminds me of that scene in Lunar’s Heart where the main character keeps missing all these obvious signs about⁠—"

A loud crash from outside cut me off, followed by several voices shouting.

Rylee was on her feet instantly, her entire body going taut, like she was already halfway out the door.

"I should go help," she said, moving.

"Wait!" I called after her. "What about finishing our match?"

She paused just long enough for our eyes to meet. "Same time tomorrow? You need to get some real work done anyway or Olivia might kick me out for good.”

I nodded, watching as she hurried outside. Not thirty seconds later, I spotted several wolves gathering at the edge of the property, sleek forms shifting in the dappled light. One of them turned its head toward the barn, and I swore it had familiar green eyes.

"Interesting," I murmured, starting to pack up the chess pieces. "Very interesting indeed."

Shadows filled the big barn doors, and my heart did a little stupid thing for half a second, hoping Rylee had come back.

Nope.

Instead, Olivia and Naomi strolled inside, looking slightly dusty but otherwise unruffled. My boss was wearing the kind of smug grin that meant she thought she knew something I didn’t, which was frankly unacceptable.

"Everything okay out there?" I asked as they moved deeper inside.

"Just a minor incident with some roofing materials," Naomi answered smoothly. "Nothing to worry about."

I nodded but couldn’t shake a little twinge of disappointment that Rylee hadn’t returned. "And everyone’s alright? I mean, there were quite a few wolves gathering..."

Olivia shrugged, exchanging a quick look with Naomi. "The wolves are nosy and like to keep an eye on things. They’re protective of the compound."

"Yeah, about that..." I busied myself sorting the chess pieces into their box, organizing my thoughts. "I’ve noticed something kind of weird. The wolves show up right when workers disappear—and they all have these really distinctive eyes." I hesitated, the image of Rylee’s striking green gaze flashing in my mind. "Almost... human-like."

Olivia’s eyebrows shot up. "Have you been watching those telenovelas again?"

"Hey! Shadow's Destiny had some very compelling storylines!" I defended automatically, then shook my head. "But seriously, don’t you think it’s a little strange?"

"What’s strange," Olivia countered smoothly, arms crossed, "is how my vet tech spent all morning playing chess instead of helping set up our temporary storage."

There was something in her tone—too controlled, too entertained—that made me think she was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Fine, fine, I can take a hint." I scooped up the chess set, carefully tucking it away for tomorrow. I glanced toward the stacks of donated supplies from the town, the ones meant to help after the clinic had burned. My heart squeezed a little—Mayfield Meadows really was the best kind of place.

"Where do you want these?" I asked, nudging a box with my foot.

"Against the far wall," Naomi pointed toward a section where several metal shelving units had appeared since morning. "We managed to get the basic storage set up while you were busy losing.”

"I’ll have you know I almost had her in that last game," I protested, fully aware I’d been obliterated.

"Of course you did," Olivia patted my shoulder like I was a child insisting my stuffed animal really could talk. "Just like how you almost helped with construction today."

I stuck my tongue out at her retreating back but still moved to start organizing supplies. As I worked, I caught snippets of their conversation near the door, their voices low, but just carrying enough to make my ears perk up.

"…should we tell her…?"

"…not yet…"

"…she's starting to notice…"

“Rylee’s place to….”

I froze for half a second, pretending to be deeply fascinated by gauze packs while straining to hear more. Before I could catch anything else, they moved outside, their voices fading into the evening air.

Through the open doorway, I spotted several wolves still lingering near the tree line, their silhouettes blending into the deepening dusk. One of them, lean and dark-colored, turned its head toward the barn.

I was the same wolf as before, I was sure of it.

Green eyes locked with mine for just a second before the wolf melted back into the shadows.

"Curiouser and curiouser," I murmured, then immediately groaned. "Oh God, get it together, Daisy. You are not the main character in some telenovela conspiracy plot."

Still, as I finished arranging the supplies, I couldn’t shake the thoughts circling in my head.

About the workers who disappeared.

About wolves who appeared.

About the way Rylee’s fingers had trembled—just for a second—when I asked about her wolf.

And, more than anything, about how, despite all the weirdness today, I was already counting down the hours until tomorrow’s chess lesson.

Maybe I’d bring even more burritos.

Just in case.

After all, you never knew when you might need to feed a wolf.

Or a wolf shifter.

Not that I was going there.

Not yet, anyway.

They were just TV shows.

Right?

CHAPTER 3

The morning dawned bright and clear—perfect weather for chess and questioning reality. I'd been up since 4 AM again, though this time, it wasn’t just chess tutorials keeping me awake. My brain was on a loop, replaying yesterday’s events: disappearing workers, appearing wolves, and those striking green eyes that seemed to show up in both human and wolf form.

"You’re overthinking this," I told the chorizo I was browning. "Just because you watch too many supernatural romance shows doesn’t mean…" I trailed off, frowning at the sizzling pan. "I mean, it’s a bit weird that Naomi is both a wolf that I haven’t seen at the compound and a woman my boss is boning… Oh god, I’m talking to meat."

My phone buzzed.

Olivia: Please tell me you’re not making more of those burritos.

Me: I’m not making more of THOSE burritos.

I waited a moment, knowing she was just staring at her screen across town before quickly typing.

Me: I’m making BETTER burritos.

Olivia: You’re obsessed.

Me: With burritos?

Olivia: With Rylee.

Now it was my turn to stare at my phone, then at the mountain of breakfast foods I was preparing.

Okay, maybe she had a point.

Still, if something weird was going on, the woman literally dating one of the magical suspects would know. Right?

I hesitated, then typed:

Me: I just have questions.

Olivia: About burritos?

Me: Nah, I’m a burrito god, and you know it.

Olivia: Then what can I answer for you, Queen Burrito?

I paused, resisting the sudden urge to demand a name tag that said exactly that. Focus, Daisy.

Me: Why don’t I ever see Rylee and her wolf in the same place?

The dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Olivia: I thought you still hadn’t seen her wolf.

Me: Just more evidence that I have never seen them in the same place.

A pause. A long one. Long enough that I drained the fat from the almost-done chorizo and started prepping the eggs.

Olivia: Maybe you should ask her.

Me: Maybe I will.

Another pause.

Olivia: Just… be gentle about it.

I frowned at my phone. What did that mean?

Before I could ask, another text came through.

Olivia: And bring extra burritos. You’re going to need them in case the conversation goes long.

I stared at the screen. That was cryptic.

And also… obviously I was already prepared for that.

I had a mountain of burritos.

The drive to Mayfield Meadows felt shorter than usual, probably because my brain was too busy staging a full-scale conspiracy board of questionable theories to focus on minor details—like the speed limit.

Most of my thoughts were absurd, pulled straight from late-night telenovela marathons. But some... some were starting to feel less ridiculous by the minute.

Rylee was already at our makeshift chess station when I arrived, the board set up, the stacks of new clinical supplies conveniently creating a semi-private corner. Her fingers fidgeted with the pieces in a way I hadn't seen before. Nervous? That was new.

She looked up as I approached, and for just a second, I thought I saw relief flicker in those green eyes. "Olivia texted to let me know you were coming," she said softly, like she'd been worried I wouldn’t.

"Of course!" I hefted my now-familiar cooler. “Why wouldn’t I come? I mean, I work here. Or at least I think I still do…” I looked around, noticing that Olivia was missing and shrugged, “Or were you afraid I actually studied last night and was about to kick your Queen’s ass today?”

She didn’t laugh. She was watching me too closely, and it was making me nervous. I glanced around, looking for a distraction—something, anything.

There was nothing. And no one.

I frowned. "Where is everyone? There were at least a dozen workers here yesterday morning."

Her hands stilled on the chessboard. "Rotating shifts," she said quickly. "Remember?"

"Right, right." I started unpacking breakfast, definitely not noticing the way she tracked my movements with those intense eyes. "Everything okay after yesterday’s accident? I never did hear what actually happened."

"Just some roofing materials that slipped," she said, but her voice was too tight, too careful. "No one was hurt."

I handed her a burrito, watching as she took it automatically, still distracted. "So… nothing to do with the bunch of wolves that showed up when it happened, then scattered like the barn was on fire?" I kept my tone casual, peeling back foil. "Including one with very striking green eyes. That one was running away the fastest..."

The burrito froze halfway to her mouth.

"Wolves have all kinds of eye colors," she said slowly.

"Uh-huh." I settled into my chair, tearing off a bite of breakfast. "Funny though, I’ve never seen a wolf with exactly your shade of green before. Well—except for your wolf. Who, by the way, I’ve also never seen at the same time as you. Weird, right? Because no one’s wolves ever seem to be hanging around with their keepers here… and yet they’re always around."

"Daisy..."

"And thinking about it," I continued, ignoring the growing tension crackling in the space between us, "I’ve also never seen Naomi and her wolf together. Or really, any of the workers and their wolves at the same time. It’s almost like…"

Rylee’s fingers curled around her burrito, pushing some of the contents up to top, knuckles white. "Like what?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

I leaned forward, dropping my voice conspiratorially.

"Like in episode 47 of Luna’s Passion where⁠—"

"Please don’t quote telenovelas right now."

"But they’re surprisingly educational!" I argued, biting back a grin. "Like just last week there was this whole episode about⁠—"

"Daisy."

She cut me off before I could launch into another telenovela reference, but there was something warring in her expression—amusement battling panic. Like she wanted to laugh, but also bolt.

"Can we just… play chess?"

I studied her face: the tension around her eyes, the way she was strangling her barely-touched burrito like it might try to escape. Part of me wanted to push, to lay out every weird thing I'd noticed and demand answers. But she looked so damn nervous. And honestly? I liked her too much to make her uncomfortable.

"Sure," I said finally, reaching for a pawn. "But you should eat that before it gets cold. Or before it explodes all over your hand from your death grip. I added extra cheese today."

The relief in her smile made my heart flip. "Thank you."

"For the burrito or for dropping it?"

"Both."

We settled into the game, and I tried to focus on remembering how all the pieces moved instead of how close Rylee’s hands were to mine every time she reached across the board. Meanwhile, the sounds of construction finally kicked in around us, hammering and drills making the barn feel more alive as interior walls started to go up. But every time her green eyes flicked up to meet mine, I couldn't help but wonder…

"Knight to E4," she said, moving her piece with practiced ease.

"E4," I repeated, then grinned. "You know, in Moonlight’s Embrace, they talk about how wolves always travel in patterns. Like how they circle their prey in precise movements, calculating⁠—”

She groaned, but I caught the smile she tried to hide. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope!" I moved my bishop forward, absolutely breaking at least three rules.

She sighed, but it was the fond kind. "Your bishop can't move that way."

"Are you sure? Because in⁠—"

"If you quote another telenovela, I’m eating your share of the burritos."

I gasped, scandalized. "You wouldn’t!"

"Try me."

Our eyes locked across the board, and for a moment, everything else faded. The construction noise blurred into the background, the golden morning light softened at the edges, and all I could think about was how easy it would be to lean across this makeshift table and…

A wolf howled in the distance, making us both jump.

Rylee’s eyes flicked toward the sound—too fast, too sharp. And for just a second—just the briefest moment—those striking green irises seemed to glow.

"Interesting," I murmured.

Her head snapped back to me. "What is?"

"Oh, nothing." I smiled innocently, turning my attention back to the board. "Your move."

She studied me, suspicion flickering behind those impossible eyes. But whatever she was searching for, I didn’t give it to her.

The game continued, with me making increasingly terrible moves while my mind raced with possibilities. Every time Rylee reached across the board, I found myself watching her hands, looking for any hint that they could somehow shift into paws. When she smiled, I studied her teeth, wondering if they ever got sharper.

"Check," she said, completely demolishing whatever laughable defense I thought I'd been building.

"Already?" I groaned. "But I was being so sneaky!"

"Moving all your pieces to one side of the board isn’t exactly a complex strategy," she pointed out, but her voice was teasing.

"Maybe I’m just trying to confuse you," I countered, nudging my king out of danger—or, knowing my luck, directly into it. "Like how in Shadow’s Kiss, the pack used misdirection to⁠—"

The words caught in my throat as I glanced up and caught her watching me.

Not just casually. Not just looking.

Watching.

Her expression was soft and warm and maybe—just maybe—a little scared.

Well.

Time to test a theory.

"You know what's weird?" I said casually, moving another piece at random. "Yesterday, right after you left to help with the accident, I saw this beautiful wolf running toward the tree line at breakneck speed. Dark fur, lean build..." I paused, watching her closely. "The most striking green eyes..."

Rylee’s hand jerked, knocking over her water bottle. She grabbed for it, but not before water splashed across the board. And in that exact moment—caught in surprise, her instincts taking over—her eyes flashed.

Not just bright.

Glowing.

Emerald green backlit with gold, shimmering like molten sunlight through forest leaves.

"Aha!" I slapped my hands on the crate, making her jump. "I KNEW IT!"

"Knew what?" She was trying for casual, but her voice definitely shook.

"Oh no, don't even try that!" I was practically vibrating in my seat. "Your eyes! They just went all wolfy! Just like in Luna’s Heart when⁠—"

"Daisy, please⁠—"

"You're a wolf shifter!" The words burst out of me in an excited rush. "Oh my god, this is amazing! This is literally the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me! Can you shift whenever you want? Do you have to wait for the full moon? No, wait, that’s werewolves. You’re definitely not a werewolf because in Midnight’s Promise they explained the difference and⁠—"

"Daisy!" Rylee’s voice was strained, her eyes darting around nervously. "Could you maybe not announce what you’re thinking to the entire compound?"

"Sorry!" I dropped my voice to what was probably still too loud of a whisper. "Sorry, I’m just—this is so cool! I mean, I’ve had my suspicions ever since I noticed no one ever sees you and your wolf at the same time. Really, any of the wolves… Oh my god—you’re all shifters!"

I whipped my head around, scanning the suspiciously empty barn.

"Oh my god," I hissed again, turning back to her. Her eyes were still shimmering in that otherworldly glow. "I should have seen this sooner. This is, like, Shifter Stories 101. Why didn’t I see this sooner? The workers disappearing? The wolves showing up out of nowhere? Naomi somehow never actually visiting with her wolf? Olivia definitely knows, right? I mean, she’s dating Naomi, and⁠—"

I stopped.

Rylee’s knuckles had gone white gripping the edge of the crate, her whole body braced. Like she was expecting me to freak out. Or worse⁠—

"Are you okay?" I asked, my excitement dimming slightly. "You look kinda pale."

She swallowed hard. "You’re not… scared?"

I blinked. "Scared?" I let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Why would I be scared? This is literally the most amazing thing ever!" Then a horrible thought struck me. "Oh god, was I not supposed to figure it out? Are you gonna have to, like, silence me now? Because I should warn you, I’ve seen every episode of Wolf’s Redemption twice, and I know all about pack secrecy protocols⁠—"

A strangled sound escaped her, halfway between a laugh and a sob. "You watch way too many telenovelas."

"Hey, they’re coming in handy right now!"

I reached across the board, hesitating only briefly before covering her hand with mine.

Her skin was warm. Almost hot.

Was that a wolf thing? Or just… a Rylee thing?

I really wanted to know if it was a Rylee thing.

“Look,” I said softly, squeezing her fingers. “I get that this is a huge deal. Secret identity, pack safety, all that jazz. But I’m not gonna tell anyone.” I grinned. “Well, except Olivia, but she obviously already knows. I mean, she’s practically living with Naomi, who is also a wolf, right? Oh my god, that explains so much about the night they met!"

"Daisy..."

Some of the tension had left her shoulders. She hadn’t pulled her hand away.

"Sorry, sorry," I said quickly. "I ramble when I’m excited. And this? This is definitely exciting." I tilted my head. "But seriously, your secret’s safe with me. Even if you won’t tell me if silver actually burns or if that’s just TV drama."

My memories replied the wolf that Naomi and her freaky boss Lydia had drug into the clinic right before it burned down. Olivia had said it was some sort of metal poisoning.

Right before the clinic had burned.

My eyes widened, and I felt like my head might explode. “It does actually burn, doesn’t it? That’s what that other wolf had… the one that got brought in and Olivia made me leave. This is so fucking cool.”

This time, she definitely laughed. It was still a little shaky, but it was a real laugh. "You’re incredible, you know that?"

I smirked. "I prefer the term ‘enthusiastically supportive.’"

She shook her head, lips twitching.

"So..." I wiggled my fingers in what I hoped was a convincing ‘wolf transformation’ gesture. "Does this mean you’ll show me? You know, the whole…"

Her eyes widened slightly. "Not here," she said quickly, but there was a hint of something mischievous now. "Maybe… maybe later."

"I'm holding you to that." I reluctantly pulled my hand back, immediately missing her warmth.

Focus, Daisy.

Chess.

Questions.

Not the way she feels under your fingertips. "But for now, can I at least ask questions? I have so many questions. Like, do you actually howl at the moon? Is that a thing? Because in Passionate Moon they⁠—"

"If I kiss you," she interrupted softly, "will it stop you from quoting another telenovela?"

Oh.

Oh.

ohhhh fuck.

Her eyes met mine across the board, still that impossible shade of gold-flecked green, but now darkened with something that made my pulse stutter. Chess pieces lay scattered and forgotten between us, some still damp from the spilled water.

"Only one way to find out," I managed to say, my voice slightly breathless.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The air between us felt charged, electric with possibility. Her gaze held mine, steady, intense, pulling me in like gravity itself. I watched as her pupils expanded, leaving only the thinnest ring of emerald, her expression unreadable but devastatingly focused.

"Well?" Her voice was low, almost a growl, and oh boy, did that do things to my insides.

I tried for a witty response, but what came out was, "In Midnight’s Embrace, they say a wolf’s kiss⁠—"

She moved faster than I thought possible, one hand sliding into my hair as she leaned across the chessboard. "No more telenovelas," she murmured, and then her lips were on mine.

Soft.

That was my first thought.

Impossibly soft.

But there was nothing soft about the way she kissed me, nothing hesitant in how her fingers tightened in my hair, pulling firmly at the roots. She kissed me like she had been thinking about this since the moment we met, like she couldn’t wait another second.

I made a sound that definitely wasn’t a whimper (it was absolutely a whimper) and pressed closer, not caring that chess pieces were digging into my ribs and scattering as I leaned over the makeshift table. Her other hand found my jaw, tilting my head just so, and when her tongue traced my bottom lip, I eagerly opened for her.

The kiss deepened, and—holy hell—was that a growl vibrating in her chest? The sound sent a rush of heat through me, pooling low in my belly. I clutched at her shoulders, needing her closer, needing⁠—

A wolf whistle pierced the air, followed by another, then another, until what sounded like an entire chorus of whistling and howling filled the barn.

We broke apart, and I turned to find half the damn pack gathered at the barn entrance, all in wolf form, all clearly laughing at us. Tongues lolling, tails wagging—just having the time of their furry lives.

"Oh my god," I groaned, burying my face in my hands. But I was laughing, too.

"Really?" Rylee called out to the peanut gallery, not letting go of me completely. "Don’t you all have something better to do?"

A particularly large gray wolf let out a snicker.

"That’s it," Rylee muttered. "Poker night is cancelled. I am not bringing the cards, and you can all go to hell."

I peeked through my fingers to see most of the wolves starting to disperse, though a few still lingered, tails wagging in absolute delight.

"You play poker with your pack?" I asked, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face.

"Sometimes," she admitted, and my heart did that stupid little flip again. I was really starting to think I should get that checked.

“For shifters, though, it’s typically a weird variation of strip poker or Find the Mouse.”

That caught my attention. In the best way.

"What’s Find the Mouse?"

"Don’t worry about it," she said smoothly, then raised her voice—this time with an unmistakable growl behind it. "Don’t you all have anything better to do with your lunch break?" She grabbed a handful of still-wrapped burritos and chucked them at the remaining loiterers.

"I don’t know," I grinned, staying just close enough that our shoulders brushed. "I think their timing was perfect. They obviously just wanted burritos."

She shot me a look, and I knew she was still annoyed, but I also knew I had her attention.

"Did I mention," I added, "that I am the Queen of Burritos? Queen Burrito for short. It’s my official title now, and you must address me as such.”

Rylee arched a brow, but her lips twitched like she was fighting a smile.

"You are something else," she muttered, but there was a warmth in her voice that hadn’t been there before.

"And proud of it," I shot back.

Her eyes flicked over me, darkening slightly. For a moment, I thought she might kiss me again, audience be damned.

But then⁠—

"If you two are quite finished destroying that chess set..."

I turned to find Olivia leaning against the barn door frame, arms crossed, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin I had ever seen.

"We weren’t destroying anything!" I protested.

Then I looked down at the board.

Chess pieces everywhere. One had rolled across the floor. Another was definitely cracked. The board itself was still damp, slightly askew, and at least one pawn was missing.

"...Okay, maybe we were a little destructive," I admitted. "But you know me. This could have been so much worse."

"Uh-huh." Olivia’s grin somehow widened, looking downright predatory now. "Well, when you’re done reorganizing the pieces—again—we could actually use some help with the clinic setup. You know, your actual job?"

"Slave driver," I muttered, but the ridiculous smile plastered on my face kind of ruined the effect.

"I heard that!"

"You were meant to!"

Rylee laughed beside me, and the sound did things to my insides.

I wanted to kiss her again.

And again.

And again.

Instead, I started gathering chess pieces, trying to remember where they actually went and not how her lips had felt against mine.

"So," I said, keeping my voice low as Olivia disappeared into the barn, still chuckling to herself. “Do you think that was actually an effective telenovela deterrent?"

"I don’t know," Rylee murmured, just as softly, her fingers brushing mine as she reached for a stray knight. “Knowing you, I might need to test it again. You know, for science."

I looked up.

Oh.

That look—that mix of heat and humor flickering in those ridiculous green eyes—was quickly becoming my favorite thing. Besides her laughter of course. Or maybe they were both my new favorite things.

I think she was my new favorite thing but there was no way I was going to admit it.

"Well," I grinned, feeling very pleased with myself, "I do have a lot more telenovela references stored up..."

Her answering smile was slow, deliberate, full of promises I really wanted to collect on.

Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to test them all.

But first⁠—

We had a clinic to build.

And, if I played my cards right?

A few more stolen kisses.

Even if it meant an audience of laughing wolves.

Worth it.

"You're doing that wrong," I called out, watching Rylee attempt to organize medical supplies on the newly installed shelves.

She turned to give me a look that somehow managed to be both annoyed and fond. God, I liked that look on her.

"There's a wrong way to stack gauze?"

"Oh, baby wolf," I grinned, moving to stand beside her—maybe a little closer than strictly necessary. "There's a wrong way to stack everything in a clinic. Here, let me show you."

I reached around her, my arms brushing hers, hyper-aware of how her body pressed into mine, her warmth seeping through my shirt. Little shivers trailed down my spine when she didn’t step away.

Oh.

"See?" My voice came out a bit breathier than intended. Damn it, Daisy, keep it together. "You want to organize by usage frequency, not size. Easier access during emergencies. Plus, you want the easy-open tab facing out. That way, no fumbling when things get chaotic."

She turned her head so that we were nearly cheek to cheek, “Mm-hmm."

The breathy sound tickled my ear, and then—was that her tongue on my lobe?!

Heat exploded through me, flooding my face and shooting straight to my toes.

"Is that why you're pressed against me?" she murmured as she turned to face me, her fingers settling at my hips. "Easy access? Or maybe... it’s an emergency?"

Oh, I was in trouble.

I cleared my throat, desperately grasping for professionalism. "I will have you know this is purely instructional."

"Of course." Her hands stayed right where they were, keeping me close. "Very professional."

Screw it.

"Although," I took a chance to watch the way the afternoon light cascaded over her face, medical supplies completely forgotten, "I wouldn't mind some... unprofessional instruction. You know, about certain wolfy things."

Her eyes flashed, and I officially added it to my Favorite Things to Make Rylee Do list. Right next to that teasing smirk.

"Like what?"

"Well, for starters⁠—"

"AHEM."

Olivia’s pointedly loud throat-clearing nearly made me jump out of my skin.

Rylee’s grip tightened before she took a careful step back.

"If you two are done 'organizing supplies,'" Olivia said, complete with aggressive air quotes, "we need to talk about discretion."

Rylee immediately tensed, shoulders going rigid, but I kept my arms loosely wrapped around her waist.

"Don’t worry, boss lady. I know all about pack secrecy. Like in Wolf’s Desire when⁠—"

"No."

They said it simultaneously.

I pouted. "You guys are no fun."

"You’ll survive," Olivia deadpanned.

Still, I let my hands linger on Rylee's waist a second longer before finally stepping back. "But seriously, I get it. Secret identity. Protect the pack. No telling anyone about the whole shifting thing. Yada, yada. Though I still have soooo many questions⁠—"

"Which you can ask later," Olivia interrupted, but she was smiling now. "Right now, we need to finish setting up these supplies. And Rylee? Lydia wants to see you."

Something passed between them, something I didn’t quite catch.

Rylee exhaled, squeezing my hand once before letting go. "I should go."

"Wait!" I caught her arm before she could fully turn away. "Tomorrow? Chess? Or... you know... whatever?"

The smile she gave me made my heart do that now-familiar, completely ridiculous flip.

"Whatever sounds good."

She headed for the door, pausing only briefly to look back.

The fading afternoon sunlight caught her eyes just right, making them flash that impossible green-gold, and then⁠—

She was gone.

I was left standing there, feeling thoroughly wrecked.

"So," Olivia drawled once we were alone. "That happened."

"Shut up," I muttered, grinning like a fool.

"Although..." I side-eyed her. "You could have told me, you know. About the whole..." I flapped my hands vaguely, unsure how to indicate ‘Hey, your girlfriend is a literal wolf’ without looking insane.

Olivia arched a brow. "And miss the look on your face when you figured it out? Never."

She shoved a box of syringes into my arms. "These go in the locked cabinet."

I sighed but started organizing, my mind racing with everything that had just happened.

"Hey, boss?"

"Hmm?"

"In the telenovelas, when a shifter kisses you..."

"No."

"But—"

"Whatever you're about to ask, the answer is no."

"Fine." I arranged the syringes a little more forcefully than necessary. "But you can't stop me from finding out on my own."

"It won’t be on your own." Olivia sounded way too smug. "I texted you Rylee’s number."

I froze.

Then turned very slowly.

"You what?"

She just grinned.

She was the best boss ever. I needed to get her a cup that said that.

Her laugh followed me as I booked it back to the supply room, already pulling out my phone to send a text:

Me: So… about that ‘whatever’ tomorrow…

Her response came almost immediately:

Rylee: Whatever you want

Oh.

Oh, that was dangerous.

My entire brain short-circuited with possibilities. I had so many ideas about ‘whatever,’ most of them involving those glowing eyes, soft lips, and strong hands⁠—

Buzz.

Rylee: But maybe leave the telenovela references at home.

I grinned.

Me: No promises

Tucking my phone away, I tried to focus on organizing, but my stupid lovestruck grin wasn’t going anywhere.

Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.

…Although.

I pulled my phone back out.

Me: Quick question – how do you feel about full moons?

The response was instant:

Rylee: Don’t make me come back there and kiss you quiet again.

My whole body short-circuited.

Me: Is that supposed to be a threat?

Rylee: You’re impossible.

Me: You like it.

There was a pause.

And then⁠—

Rylee: More than you know.

Oh.

Oh hell.

I was so doomed.

And I couldn’t wait.

CHAPTER 4

"I'm just saying," I called out as I struggled to hang a whiteboard that seemed determined to stay crooked, "if y'all had told me about the whole shifter thing earlier, I would have kept bringing burritos so you wouldn’t need to go hunting for lunch."

Several workers—shifters, I reminded myself with a giddy thrill—exchanged amused glances. One of them, a tall woman with close-cropped hair who had just walked in, grinned. “Are you complaining now? And here we thought you were trying to fatten us up." She glanced around, brow raised, “Where are today’s offerings to your canine gods?”

"Some of us actually need sleep occasionally," I retorted, finally getting the whiteboard somewhat level. “So none today. Though I notice none of you complained about the ‘fattening up’ part when you were demolishing my burritos yesterday."

“I miss them already.” Someone called from behind a half built wall.

"They were good burritos," another worker admitted, hauling a box of medical supplies past me.

"Damn right they were. I'm the Queen of—" I broke off as warm hands settled on my hips, steadying me on the stepladder.

"Careful," Rylee’s voice came from behind me, low and teasing. "I don't think worker’s comp covers falling while bragging about your cooking skills."

I looked down to find those fascinating green eyes watching me with a mixture of amusement and concern. "My hero," I grinned. "Again. Though I’m starting to think you just like having an excuse to catch me when I fall."

"Maybe I just like having an excuse to touch you."

Heat bloomed in my cheeks. Before I could respond, someone made a gagging sound.

"Get a room!" the short-haired woman called out.

"We’re in a room," I shot back. "Several of them, technically. This whole barn is rooms."

"Smart ass."

"You love me.”

Rylee’s hands tightened briefly on my hips before helping me down from the ladder. "They’re not the only ones," she murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.

My blush deepened as I turned to face her. "Smooth talker. But you're not getting out of manual labor that easily."

"Wouldn’t dream of it." She picked up a box that definitely should have been too heavy for one person to lift, and oh, that was hot.

"Show off," I muttered, trying not to stare at her arms.

Her answering smirk told me I wasn’t being subtle.

For the next hour, we fell into a rhythm of unpacking, organizing, and occasionally stealing glances at each other across the room. Every time our paths crossed, there was a casual touch, a lingering look, a shared smile that made my heart race.

It was like a dance, this careful choreography of almost-but-not-quite, and it was driving me crazy in the best possible way.

"You know," I said as we worked side by side, organizing surgical tools into an array of sterile containers, "in Wolf's Desire, they say that shifters have enhanced strength even in human form..."

Various groans echoed through the barn.

"What?" I grinned at the collective eye-rolling I could practically hear. "I’m just saying, it explains a lot! Like how Rylee can lift those boxes by herself, or how you all managed to get the roof fixed so quickly yesterday with just three people.”

"Please," the short-haired woman—Casey, I reminded myself—begged, "no more telenovelas."

"But they’re educational!" I protested. "For instance, did you know that in Midnight's Promise, they claim that shifters can⁠—"

I was cut off by a chorus of groans and one very creative curse in what sounded like Spanish.

"Fine, fine." I held up my hands in surrender. "No more educational facts. For now."

Rylee bumped her shoulder against mine. "Thank you."

"Although..."

"Daisy."

"Just one more?"

She silenced me with a quick kiss that left me momentarily speechless. When she pulled back, her eyes were doing that glowing thing again, and wow, that was never going to get old.

"That trick won't work forever," I warned her, though we both knew I was lying.

"Wanna bet?"

Before I could respond (probably with something embarrassingly eager), a sharp whistle cut through the air. Casey stood in the doorway, checking her watch.

"Lunch time, folks," she announced. "And since someone didn’t bring burritos today..."

I stuck my tongue out at her. "They have these things called grocery stores, you know."

"Where's the fun in that?" Rylee’s voice had taken on a playful edge, low and teasing in a way that made my stomach flip. When I turned to look at her, her eyes were practically blazing, gold overwhelming the green.

And then she said it.

"Besides, nothing beats fresh catch."

Wait.

What?

"Um," I started, but before I could fully process the words, Casey was stripping off her work shirt. And not just her—others were doing the same, stretching out their shoulders like this was all completely normal.

Which, for them, I guess it was.

For me? Not so much.

Holy shit. This is actually happening.

I didn’t know if the last thought was because they were all getting naked or because wolves were appearing around me.

Either way—holy shit, this was actually happening.

"Last one to the tree line has to clean up after the hunt!" someone called out.

Then the air shimmered—not quite like heat waves, not quite like smoke, but something in between. I watched, transfixed, as bodies blurred and rippled, skin shifting into fur, bones realigning with an ease that should have been terrifying but was somehow... mesmerizing.

One second, I was standing in a barn full of people.

The next, I was surrounded by wolves.

Actual wolves.

"Told you grocery stores were boring," Rylee murmured beside me.

I turned just in time to see her shrug off her shirt, her impossible eyes locked onto mine, and oh, I was so not ready for this.

“Want to come watch?" she asked, her voice carrying just enough challenge to make my brain short-circuit.

My mouth went completely, utterly dry. "I, uh..."

She smiled—wild, teasing, dangerous in the best way. "Your choice. But next time...” She leaned in close, her breath hot against my ear. "Bring lunchtime burritos. Hunting gets me too worked up to be comfortable everyday.”

Then she stepped back, and before I could even form a coherent thought, she was shifting.

One moment, Rylee was standing in front of me, all sharp smirks and too-knowing eyes.

The next, a lean wolf with dark fur and those same striking green eyes stood in her place, watching me, tail wagging slightly.

"Show off," I managed to say, though my voice shook just a little.

The wolf—Rylee—huffed a sound that was undeniably a laugh before turning and bounding toward the others. They moved as one, a coordinated blur of muscle and fur disappearing into the tree line.

Just before they vanished into the woods, Rylee paused, turning to look back at me.

My breath caught.

"Go on," I called out, finally finding my voice. "But hurry back. We have work to do."

Another wolfy laugh, a flick of her tail, and then she was gone, swallowed by the forest with the rest of them.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where they had disappeared, my brain still trying to reboot.

Then, with the urgency of a woman who had just witnessed the single most unhinged and incredible thing in her life, I pulled out my phone.

Me: They just shifted. ALL OF THEM. AT ONCE.

Olivia’s reply came almost immediately and I was starting to wonder if the woman showered and slept with her phone.

Olivia: And?

Me: AND IT WAS THE COOLEST THING EVER! Also, Rylee with fur is just as hot as Rylee without fur.

Me: Wait.

Me: That came out wrong.

Olivia: Did it though?

I could practically hear her laughing at me through the phone.

Me: Shut up and let me process this.

Olivia: Process away, you texted me remember? But maybe get some actual work done while you're waiting for your girlfriend to finish hunting.

Girlfriend.

Was that what Rylee was?

I stared at the word, something warm and wobbly settling in my chest.

I had always assumed I was straight—assumed being the keyword—right up until a pair of glowing green eyes had looked at me like I was something worth devouring.

Girlfriend.

I could try it on. Walk around with it. Maybe Netflix and chill with it.

Girlfriend.

The thought made my heart do things that were definitely becoming a health concern, and I couldn’t stop grinning as I turned back to the shelves still waiting to be stocked.

It was incredible how many supplies one tiny clinic needed. Truly, this was what I should be focused on.

And yet…

My eyes kept drifting to the tree line, searching for a familiar flash of dark fur and green eyes. Waiting.

Because this?

This was so much better than telenovelas.

My stomach growled, loud in the suddenly too-quiet room. I flinched at the noise, glancing around like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t.

I really, really hoped she went through a wolf drive-thru and broke back burgers for two.

I was pacing around a stack of snap-together hardwood flooring (again) when movement at the tree line caught my eye. One by one, dark shapes emerged from the forest, and my heart definitely didn’t skip a beat when I spotted a familiar lean form with striking green eyes.

The wolves advanced as far as the barn door before stopping in a row, and it hit me—oh. They were probably waiting for privacy to shift back.

Right.

Because clothes.

“Oh!” I spun around so fast I nearly tripped over a crate, my face heating. “Sorry! I’ll just… um…”

A soft whuff of air behind me might have been a laugh. There was a brief pause, then that strange almost-audible shimmering in the air that I’d heard before. I kept my gaze firmly locked on the stack of boxes in front of me, trying very hard not to think about what was happening behind me.

“You can look now,” Rylee’s voice came from much closer than expected, low and amused.

I turned slowly, not entirely sure what I’d find.

She stood just a few feet away, fully dressed (thank god? Or maybe not? Girlfriend?), her dark hair slightly wild, a flush coloring her cheeks. She looked... alive. Radiant. Like she was glowing from within.

"Hi," I managed, suddenly breathless.

"Hi." Her eyes were still more gold than green, and the way she was looking at me made my knees very unreliable. "Miss me?"

"Please." I tried for casual, probably missed by a mile. "I was very busy being productive while you were off playing Big Bad Wolf."

"Productive?" Her gaze flicked to the trauma kit I’d been organizing before she left. The same trauma kit I had definitely reorganized at least three times since she disappeared. "Is that why everything I just watched you put away before I left is now in a completely different order?"

Okay, maybe I had been reorganizing it.

"I was... optimizing," I said with dignity. "Besides, you try concentrating when your… when people are out there shifting into wolves and hunting and doing cool shifter things."

Her expression softened at my stumble over what to call her. "Your what?"

"My..." I gestured vaguely between us. Oh my god, why was this so hard?

"Do I?" She stepped closer, heat radiating off her like she was the sun. "Maybe you should tell me."

My heart was doing actual gymnastics in my chest. "Well, in Lunar Love, they call it⁠—"

"Daisy." There was a growl under her voice, low and teasing, but also a little bit dangerous—the very best kind of dangerous. The kind that made my insides twist up in heat and want. "What did we say about telenovelas?"

"That they’re incredibly educational and you love hearing about them?"

She laughed, soft and low, and moved even closer.

"Try again."

"That you’ll kiss me if I quote them?"

"Close." Her hand came up to cup my jaw, thumb brushing my bottom lip, and ohhh I was in trouble. "I said I’d kiss you to stop you from quoting them."

"Same difference," I breathed, tilting toward her.

"Is it?"

I had about a thousand questions.

About us. About shifting. About hunting. About whether her wolf form could beat me at chess without thumbs (probably). But with her looking at me like that—gold eyes smoldering, wild energy radiating off her in waves—words seemed way less important than closing the distance between us.

So I did.

This kiss was different from our first. Where that one had been urgent, almost desperate, this was slow. Deliberate. Like she was taking her time mapping every detail, learning every sound I made when she nipped at my bottom lip or traced her tongue along the seam of my mouth.

Her hands settled on my hips, pulling me closer until I was pressed against her. She was so warm, almost burning, and I wondered if that was from the shift or just how she always was.

The vet tech in me decided I’d have to conduct extensive research to find out.

For science, obviously.

I slid my hands up her arms, feeling the shift of muscle beneath my fingers. "So," I murmured against her lips, "enhanced strength, huh?"

She hummed an agreement, trailing kisses along my jaw.

"What else can you do?"

She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, and the heat in her gaze sent a shiver down my spine. "Want me to show you?"

"Yes," I breathed, then added—because obviously I couldn’t help myself—"Though in Midnight’s Embrace they say⁠—"

She cut me off with another kiss, this one harder, more demanding. I gasped as she backed me into the supply shelves, one of her legs sliding between mine.

"No more telenovelas," she growled against my mouth.

"Make me," I challenged, and felt her smile.

"Oh, I plan to."

Her hands slid under my shirt, leaving trails of fire across my skin. I arched into her touch, wanting more, needing⁠—

A truck horn blared outside.

"Lumber delivery!" Casey’s voice called from somewhere near the entrance.

Rylee dropped her forehead to my shoulder with a groan. "I'm going to kill them."

I laughed, breathless and shaky. "No, you’re not. We need that lumber."

"Do we though?"

"Yes." I pressed a quick kiss to her temple before gently pushing her back, my stomach making a very unfortunate noise between us. Loudly.

Her eyes flickered gold again. "You wanted me to hunt for you?" she asked, voice rough with something I almost didn’t dare think about.

"It would have been nice to have been thought of at least." I shot her a teasing grin. "I bet you gobbled up an entire squirrel all on your own."

"Rabbit." She leaned in, catching my bottom lip between her teeth, just enough for me to share I felt fangs. Just enough for my pulse to stutter in my throat. "Sorry I didn’t share."

She pulled away, and I almost fell down. I would have blamed it on low blood sugar, but we all knew the truth.

"Think we should go help?" I managed.

She leveled a look at me that promised things I had only seen on daytime TV.

I fell.

Hard.

Does a metaphorical fall count toward my worker’s comp quota? Had I technically fallen three times yet? Because this was definitely turning into hazard pay territory.

As we headed out to help with the delivery, I couldn’t stop grinning.

My girlfriend was a wolf shifter.

A very hot wolf shifter who could probably bench press a car.

And who definitely knew how to kiss me senseless.

Eat your heart out, telenovelas.

Reality was so much better.

CHAPTER 5

"That box goes in exam room two," I called out, pointing to where Casey was wrestling with what appeared to be an entire pharmacy’s worth of little empty orange bottles. She shot me a look that clearly questioned my authority but headed in the right direction anyway.

Rylee appeared beside me, shifting another impossibly heavy box with frustrating ease. "Having fun ordering everyone around?"

"Obviously," I grinned. "Though I notice you’re not complaining about my organizational skills anymore."

"That’s because you’re usually right about where things go," she admitted, setting down her burden. "Even if your methods are..."

"Incredibly efficient and professional?"

"I was going to say chaotic, but sure." Her eyes glinted with amusement. "We’ll go with your version."

I stuck my tongue out at her, then yelped as she suddenly caught me around the waist, pulling me flush against her.

"Careful," she murmured in my ear. "Something dangerous might catch that tongue and snatch it out."

Heat ignited in my chest, spreading outward until my whole body burned. "Is that a promise?"

Her answering growl sent shivers down my spine.

"Hey, lovebirds!" Casey’s voice ruined everything. "Some of us are trying to work here!"

"We are working!" I protested, though I made zero attempt to leave Rylee’s embrace.

"Uh-huh. Is that what we’re calling it now?"

I opened my mouth to retort, but Rylee beat me to it. "Don’t you have inventory to count?"

"Actually," Casey grinned wickedly, walking around the corner while wiping her hands on her jeans in a very smug fashion, "I just finished the storage room count. All yours if you need it."

She winked and sauntered off, leaving us alone in the half-finished exam room.

I turned in Rylee’s arms, already breathless. "Storage room?"

Her eyes flashed gold, pupils blown wide. "Storage room."

We managed to keep it professional for about thirty seconds—just long enough to get through the newly fitted door.

Then Rylee was on me, pressing me up against the freshly installed shelving units, and all thoughts of inventory counts vanished.

"God, you’re strong," I gasped as she lifted me effortlessly, hands gripping my thighs as she pinned me to the wall.

"Enhanced abilities, remember?" She nipped at my neck, the slight edge of teeth making me whimper. "Want to see what else I can do?"

"Yes," I breathed, then because I physically could not help myself, “Though in Wolf’s Desire they say⁠—"

She cut me off with a kiss.

All heat.

All wanting.

No warning.

Her tongue slid against mine in a way that made me forget whatever I’d been about to say, made my body arch into hers, craving more.

One of her hands slid higher on my thigh, her grip firm, possessive. I could feel the careful restraint in her touch—the controlled strength that could so easily become something else.

"No more shows," she growled against my mouth. "Just us."

"Make me forget them," I whispered.

I felt her smile.

"With pleasure."

She proved just how enhanced her abilities were, holding me up with one hand like it was nothing while the other slipped under my shirt. Her palm was hot against my skin, leaving a trail of fire wherever she touched. When her thumb brushed along the underside of my breast, I arched into her, gripping her shoulders for balance.

"Please," I whimpered, though I wasn’t entirely sure what I was asking for.

She seemed to know anyway. Her hand slipped higher, cupping my breast through my bra as she dragged her lips down my neck. Then she did something with her teeth that sent a sharp jolt through me, my head thudding back against the shelves.

"Careful," she murmured, soothing the spot with her tongue. "Don’t want to explain any injuries."

"Don’t care," I managed, fingers threading into her hair to pull her back up for another kiss. "Worth it."

She growled—an actual, low, rumbling growl—and the sound shot straight through me, coiling tight in my belly. Her eyes were pure gold now, glowing in the dim storage room as she looked at me like something she wanted to devour.

Yes, please.

Her hand moved to the button of my jeans, fingers hooking into the waistband as she waited—giving me the chance to stop her.

I nodded frantically before she could even ask. "Yes, god yes, please⁠—"

A sharp knock at the door made us both freeze.

"Daisy? Rylee?" Olivia’s voice carried through the wood. "I need to talk to you both. It’s important."

Rylee dropped her forehead to my shoulder with a groan. "Give us a minute!"

A pause. Then, "Make it quick. This can’t wait."

I expected Rylee to set me down immediately, but instead, she held me there, pressing soft kisses along my throat—so gentle, so reverent, that my stomach tightened for an entirely different reason.

"To be continued?" I asked softly, my voice still breathless.

"Definitely." She lowered me carefully to my feet, her hands staying firm on my hips until she was sure I was steady. "Though maybe somewhere with fewer interruptions next time."

"Don’t you live here?" I blurted before I could stop myself.

Her lips twitched. "Are you asking to see my house?”

"What if I was?"

She leveled me with a look—a look that wrecked me in the absolute best way. "Then I’d say you should ask to see my bed instead.”

Oh.

"Uh-huh." My brain short-circuited, trying to come up with anything to say to that. "Promises, promises."

Not better, Daisy. Not better at all.

I shoved my fingers through my hair until it resembled something presentable, while Rylee tucked her shirt back in with a casual ease that was honestly unfair. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," she said immediately, then grinned. "But also like you’ve been thoroughly kissed against a wall.”

"Shelf," I corrected. "But worth it."

Before I could stop myself, I stole one more quick kiss and then yanked the door open. "Alright, let’s go see what the boss wants."

Olivia stood just outside, and I was going to make a snooping joke—but one look at her face killed the last of the heat still humming through me.

She looked worried.

Really worried.

In a way I’d never seen before.

"What’s wrong?" Rylee asked, instantly alert.

"It’s Luna," Olivia said quietly. "Jayne and Princess found her."

I felt Rylee tense beside me. "Is she..."

"Alive," Olivia assured quickly. "Naomi and I are leaving now to go meet them. She’s been exposed to silver, and from what Princess described in her message..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

A cold twist settled in my stomach. "How long?" I asked, my medical training kicking in.

"A few days. Maybe less." Olivia handed me a list. "We’re converting exam room three into a recovery space. I need you two to finish setting it up while we’re gone. Everything she might need is there."

She hesitated, then fixed me with a look. "And Daisy?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you haven’t dealt directly with silver poisoning before, but you’re going to need to be ready. It’s..." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "It’s not like anything you’ve seen."

I thought back to the wolf that had been brought into the clinic before it burned down. Sage.

I had seen silver poisoning before.

But Olivia was right.

I hadn’t seen what it had done to Sage in the end. Hadn’t been there. Here. The gravity in her voice made my stomach tighten and beside me, Rylee had gone completely still. The playful teasing, the warmth from minutes ago—gone.

Replaced with something harder.

Something wolf-like.

"We'll be ready," Rylee said firmly, no hesitation in her voice.

Olivia nodded once. "Good. I'll text when we're close." She turned to leave, then paused, glancing back with a knowing look. "And maybe save the storage room activities for after you’ve got the recovery room set up?"

Oh my god. My face burned, but Rylee just smirked and pulled me closer, completely unbothered. "We've got this. Go get her."

We stood there as Olivia hurried away, watching her until she disappeared, leaving nothing but the weight of what was coming.

The heat and playfulness from earlier felt distant now, replaced by something heavier.

I reached for Rylee’s arm, squeezing gently. "Hey. We will be ready. Whatever Luna needs, we’ll handle it."

She turned to me, and for the first time, I saw real fear in those impossible eyes. "Silver poisoning is... it's bad, Daisy." Her throat bobbed, like saying the words made it worse. "It killed her mother."

A quiet ache settled in my chest, but I forced my shoulders to square. "Then it’s a good thing she’s got an excellent medical team." I lifted Olivia’s list, tapping it with determination. "And her pack."

Something in her posture softened, just a fraction, and then her arms came around me from behind, her chin resting on my shoulder. "Thank you," she murmured.

"For what?"

"For being you." She pressed a soft kiss to my temple, lingering just enough to make my heart ache in a different way. "For not running when things get hard."

I turned in her arms, meeting those worried eyes with everything I hoped she could see in mine. "Hey, in Moonlight’s Promise they say⁠—"

She silenced me with a kiss—not rushed, not meant to shut me up, but just a kiss.

Girlfriend, huh? Yeah, I could get used to this.

When we parted, she pressed her forehead lightly to mine. "Come on. Let’s get that recovery room ready."

We walked hand in hand toward exam room three, the weight of what was ahead settling over us like a storm on the horizon.

But I squeezed her hand.

And she squeezed back.

Yeah, I thought.

We’ve got this.

The sun was just beginning to set by the time we finished setting up the recovery room. Every surface gleamed with antiseptic cleanliness, every supply was exactly where it needed to be, and a pile of soft blankets covered the table. The monitoring equipment Olivia had somehow acquired at record speed stood waiting, its quiet presence a stark reminder of the days ahead.

"I think that's everything," I said, scanning the list for what felt like the hundredth time. Across the room, Rylee smoothed out another fleece blanket over the table—the third layer she’d added in the last ten minutes. "Though I still don’t understand why we need so many blankets."

Rylee, still focused on arranging the fabric, glanced up. "Silver poisoning makes us cold," she said, voice steady but quieter than before. "Like, bone-deep cold. Plus..."

She hesitated, fingers going still against the blanket’s soft surface.

"Plus?" I prompted gently.

Her throat worked around the words before they came out. "She’s just a pup." She swallowed, hard. "Even without the silver, she’s still without her either of her moms. She’ll want the comfort."

Something twisted in my chest at the weight in her voice. God.

I set down the list without thinking, stepping behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist. "Hey. We’ve got this, remember?" My chin rested against her shoulder, and I felt the way she exhaled, her tension easing just a little. "The room is ready, the supplies are sorted, and I’ve watched every medical drama ever made."

That got a small laugh. "Please tell me you’re not planning to treat silver poisoning based on 'Grey’s Anatomy.'"

"Of course not!" I pressed a light kiss to her shoulder. "I was thinking more 'House.' You know, for the really weird cases."

She turned in my arms, worry still shadowing her eyes, but a hint of her usual smile tugged at her lips. "No telenovela medical advice?"

"Well," I drawled, "in 'Passion’s Healing,' there was this one episode about⁠—"

"Stop," she groaned, but she was definitely smiling now. "You’re impossible."

"You like it."

"I do."

The simple admission made my heart trip over itself.

She tilted her head slightly, studying me with something warm and steady. "Though I’m starting to think you make half these shows up."

I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest. "I would never!"

"Mmhmm."

"Though I might... embellish occasionally. For dramatic effect."

"Uh-huh." Her fingers curled at my waist, pulling me closer. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For making me smile when I’m worried. For working so hard to help Luna. To help all of us. For..." She gestured vaguely at the fully prepped room. "All of this."

"Of course." I lifted a hand to cup her cheek, my thumb brushing softly over her cheekbone. “I mean, it is my job. Olivia does pay me, or did.” I paused, making a show of thinking, “I’m not sure I have seen a check since the clinic burned. Oh well, guess I can take payment via ulterior methods.”

Her brow arched, amusement flickering in those impossible gold-green eyes. "Oh?"

"Mmmhmm." I grinned but kept my tone light, teasing. "See, I have this absolutely gorgeous girlfriend who happens to be a wolf shifter, and I’m kind of hoping that if I prove how helpful I can be, the pack might let me keep her."

Something flickered in Rylee’s eyes at the word girlfriend—something warm and possessive that sent heat curling low in my stomach.

"Girlfriend, huh?"

I tried for casual, probably missed by a mile. "Well... in 'Love’s Full Moon' they use the term 'mate,' but I figured we should maybe start with⁠—"

She cut me off with a kiss, soft and slow, full of promise. When we finally parted, her eyes were glowing again, that impossible gold-green shining in the dim light.

"Girlfriend works," she murmured. "For now."

The way she said for now sent a delicious shiver down my spine, but before I could press her on what exactly that meant, my phone buzzed.

We both tensed, but it was just Olivia with an update:

Olivia: About halfway there. Luna’s stable but weak. ETA tomorrow morning if we can find them quickly. Another day or so drive back.

I turned the screen toward Rylee, watching as some of the tension in her shoulders finally eased. "See? Stable is good. We’ve got time to prepare."

She nodded, but worry still lingered in the lines of her face. "Will you... will you stay? Tonight?"

"Of course." I gestured toward the comfortable-enough chair we’d set up in the corner. "Someone needs to keep an eye on all this expensive equipment anyway."

"I meant..." She hesitated, then met my gaze again, her uncertainty clear in the way her fingers tightened around mine. "With me? At my place?"

Oh.

Oh.

"Yes," I said, probably too quickly. "I mean—if you want. Though fair warning, I might ask a lot of questions about shifter stuff. You know, for research purposes."

Her smile turned wicked. "Research purposes?"

"Absolutely." I grinned, stepping closer. "For instance, in 'Midnight’s Embrace,' they say wolves run hotter than humans, even when sleeping, and I really should verify that. For science."

"For science," she repeated, voice low, dangerous.

Her fingers curled at my waist, pulling me flush against her, and my breath hitched.

"Any other... research questions?"

"So many." My voice barely came out. "Pages and pages of them."

"Guess we better get started then."

This kiss was different—not urgent like in the storage room, not sweet like before. This was a promise. A prelude. A taste of things to come.

By the time we finally pulled away, we were both breathing hard.

"Come on," she said, lacing her fingers through mine. "I’ll show you how the teen wolf really lived."

"Shifters," I corrected automatically. "Keep up with the times."

Her laugh echoed through the empty clinic, warm and freeing as she led me toward the door. "Whatever you say, Queen Burrito."

"See? You’re learning!"

As we stepped into the twilight, hand in hand, I thought about how much had changed in just a few days.

I had a wolf shifter girlfriend. A clinic to build. And an injured pup to prepare for.

I was definitely asking for a raise.

But then I looked at Rylee—at how her eyes glowed in the gathering darkness, how her smile made my heart do something probably medically concerning—and I knew, without a doubt:

Reality was better than any telenovela.

CHAPTER 6

The walk to Rylee's cottage felt both too long and too short, my heart doing that now-familiar flippity-flip-beat-drop-beat with every step.

Dusk had settled over the compound, painting everything in soft pinks and purples. It was one of the things I loved about the Midwest—as boring and flat as it could be, the sunsets always made up for it.

A few wolves lounged on the grass between buildings, their eyes tracking us as we passed. I tried not to overthink it, but... were they actual wolves, or just shifted workers hanging out before heading home? Was there even really a difference?

Rylee squeezed my hand, her voice low and amused. "You're thinking too hard."

"Just trying to figure out who's who." I nodded toward a particularly large gray wolf watching us with obvious interest. "Like, was I carrying flooring with that guy earlier, or⁠—"

"That’s Casey." Rylee’s lips quirked in a knowing smile. "She likes to run patrol in the evenings."

The wolf—Casey—huffed a sound that was suspiciously close to a snicker.

"Don’t you start," I called, pointing at her. "Or no more burritos for you!"

Her answering huff sounded a hell of a lot like ‘worth it.’

Rylee tugged me down a winding path between a row of beautifully built craftsman-style cottages, half-hidden behind trees and wildflower gardens. I hadn’t even realized this part of the compound existed—each home unique, but fitting together in a way that felt intentional. Balanced. Some windows were warm with light, silhouettes moving behind curtains. Others were dark, but here and there, I caught glimpses of both human and wolf forms moving inside.

Finally, Rylee slowed, stopping in front of a smaller cottage painted forest green. Window boxes overflowed with herbs, the scent of rosemary and lilac hanging in the air. And there, through one window, sat a chess set, arranged mid-game on a small table.

"This is me," she said quietly, fidgeting with her keys.

I loved it instantly. "It’s perfect."

She hesitated, fiddling with the lock in a way that made me realize—she was nervous too.

"It’s not much," she started as the door swung open. "I don’t usually have people over..."

I was already stepping inside, too eager to see her space to answer.

It was cozy, without feeling cramped. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with everything from chess strategy guides to ancient-looking tomes about shifter lore—with a few very suspicious romance novels shoved in between.

A comfortable-looking couch faced a small fireplace, and the chess set I’d spotted was indeed set up by the window, pieces frozen mid-strategy.

But it wasn’t any of that that caught my attention.

It was the large, plush bed tucked into the corner. Not her actual bed—this was definitely for a wolf. It had raised sides, thick memory foam padding, and looked... well used.

I grinned, unable to resist. "So... in 'Lunar Nights,' they always show shifters sleeping in their human beds, but I guess that's just⁠—"

The joke died in my throat.

Rylee hadn’t followed me in. She was still standing just inside the door, tense, like something in the air had shifted.

I replayed my words, the lighthearted ribbing that had been meant to tease—and immediately realized I’d stepped into something deeper than just sleeping preferences.

"Hey," I said softly, moving back toward her. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean⁠—"

"It’s okay." She took a shaky breath, but I could see the way her fingers curled slightly, as if she was bracing herself. "Sometimes... sometimes the wolf is easier. Simpler."

She met my eyes, and there was something raw there, something I hadn’t seen before.

"The wolf doesn’t overthink things. Doesn’t always remember..."

She trailed off, but I didn’t need her to finish.

Didn’t remember whatever had brought her here. Whatever had made this place necessary.

Olivia had mentioned, in a vague, knowing way, that most of the shifters at the compound had come with trauma of some kind. I hadn’t pushed her for details. But standing here, watching the way Rylee seemed caught between worlds, between human and wolf, I realized...I hadn’t needed to. Whatever it was, I didn’t care. I was here for her.

"Come here," I said softly, opening my arms.

She stepped into them immediately, pressing her face against my neck as I held her close. A slight tremble ran through her, and I ran my hands up and down her back, trying to smooth away whatever demons my careless joke had stirred.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled against my skin. "This isn’t exactly the romantic evening I had planned."

"Hey, no apologizing." I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. "This is part of you, and I want to know all of you. The wolf, the human, the chess nerd..." That earned a small smile. "All of it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I brushed my thumb along her cheek, savoring the warmth of her skin. "Though I do have one condition."

Her brow arched. "What’s that?"

"You have to let me cuddle with wolf-you sometimes. Because that bed looks ridiculously comfortable, and I bet you're even warmer with fur."

She laughed—soft, but real. Some of the tension eased from her shoulders, and I felt her settle into the moment with me. "Deal."

I leaned in, kissing her gently, slow and sure, hoping she could feel everything I was trying to say without words. She sighed into me, melting in a way that made my heart ache, a quiet surrender to trust.

When we finally parted, her eyes held that familiar golden glow, but this time it wasn’t from heat—it was trust. Letting me see all of her, both sides, both forms.

"So," I smiled, glancing around. "Tour?"

"Tour," she agreed, taking my hand. "Though maybe we skip the wolf bed jokes?"

"No promises. I have an entire repertoire of terrible shifter humor stored up."

"Of course you do." But she was smiling now, warm and real, as she led me deeper into her space. "Bedroom's through here if you want to see where human me sleeps too."

"Lead the way." I squeezed her hand. "Though I should warn you, if there's a chess set in there too, I’m going to have serious questions about your priorities."

Her laugh echoed through the cottage, and as she pulled me toward her bedroom, I couldn’t shake the thought that this—everything, wolf bed, trauma, trust—was better than any telenovela could ever be.

This was real.

And I was falling hard.

Rylee’s bedroom was exactly what I’d imagined—cozy, comfortable, and a perfect blend of her two worlds. A queen-sized bed dominated the room, draped in soft, fur-lined blankets that matched the wolf bed in the other room. A second chessboard sat on a small table by the window, mid-game, like it had been abandoned in the middle of a deep strategy session. More books filled a built-in shelf, more romance novels in here than on the living room shelf.

It was a little eccentric, a lot cozy, and completely her.

But what caught my attention most was the wall opposite the bed—floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a stretch of forest behind the cottage. The setting sun cast long shadows across the room, painting the space in warm golds and deep purples. I could easily imagine Rylee curled up here, watching the wolves run and play outside while she read or planned her next chess move.

"This is..." I turned to her with a grin. "Perfect."

She smiled, stepping closer. "Glad you think so."

I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her snug against me. "You know, in Midnight’s Embrace, they say mates can feel each other's heartbeats from across the room."

Her eyes flashed gold. "Is that so?"

I nodded, leaning in to brush my lips against hers. "Mmmhmm. But I think you might need to be a little closer for us to test it."

"Challenge accepted," she murmured, deepening the kiss.

My heart pounded as our mouths moved together—slow at first, testing, tasting, savoring—then deeper, hungrier. Her fingers slid up my back, tangling in my hair, and I mirrored the movement, threading my hands through her soft strands.

Every inch of her was warmth—gentle and strong, her soft curves pressed against me, her presence grounding me even as she sent me spinning.

And heated.

Oh, so very heated.

The kiss turned urgent, desperate, and I gasped as her teeth scraped my bottom lip—a sharp, delicious bite that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Mine," she growled softly, her breath hot against my jaw.

"Yours," I agreed, grinning like an idiot—until a flash of nerves sliced through my haze. "Umm, Rylee…"

She pulled back slightly, tilting her head in a way that was so utterly canine I had to bite back a smile.

"I’ve never been with a girl before," I admitted, heart hammering.

Something flickered in her eyes—gold flashing like embers in the low light. And for a moment, I swore I felt something strange inside me, like her heartbeat wasn’t just hers anymore—like it was moving in time with mine.

Thump, thump, thump-thump-thump, thump.

I shivered, but not from the cold.

"That’s okay," she murmured, voice thick with something unreadable. Then, a teasing smirk. "I won’t hold it against you if you were too busy watching cheesy TV to try."

Her hands slid down my back, cupping my ass, pressing me tighter against her. The heat between us flared, and a soft moan escaped me as I instinctively rocked into her.

I was hot. Too hot. Suffocatingly hot.

"Too many clothes," I breathed, reaching for the hem of her shirt.

She let out a deep, rumbling groan as I dragged my nails lightly up her spine. "You're playing a dangerous game, Daisy."

"Maybe," I admitted, lips curling. "But I’ve always been good at winning games—except maybe in chess."

Her laugh was cut off by another kiss—this one demanding, urgent. And then we were stumbling backwards toward the bed, tangled together, lips never breaking apart.

My knees hit the mattress, and I tumbled down, pulling Rylee with me. She landed on top of me, hips settling perfectly between my thighs.

Oh.

Oh, this was going to be very good.

Our kisses turned frantic, urgent, as we fumbled with each other's clothes. She got my shirt off first, my bra following instantly, her hands immediately finding my breasts, thumbs grazing over my nipples in a way that made me gasp, arching into her touch. She took advantage of the movement, deepening the kiss, her tongue exploring my mouth with a hunger that sent heat pooling low in my belly.

She sat up, helping me pull off her shirt while I reached for her jeans, trying to shove them down, but by then she was too busy kissing her way across my neck, my collarbone, the swell of my breasts—leaving a burning trail in her wake—to actually help. I groaned, squirming beneath her, finally managing to undo the button and push the denim down her hips.

With a frustrated growl—low, animalistic—she kicked them off completely, and then she was back on me, skin against skin, impossibly hot. I could feel her heartbeat against my chest, steady and sure, but that strange echoing sensation inside me was stronger now, like her pulse was syncing with mine.

Thump Thump Thump Thump

I ran my hands down her back, fingers tracing the shifting muscles beneath smooth skin. She was strength and power wrapped in softness, and I loved it.

She nipped at my neck, and I gasped. Then she trailed lower, slow and unhurried, every kiss, every brush of her lips sending shivers through me. When she reached my breasts, she lingered, teasing, tasting, circling my nipples with her tongue until I was writhing beneath her, a desperate, pleading mess.

"Please," I gasped, my voice ragged with need.

She smiled, slow and wicked, and continued her descent, kissing and nipping her way down my stomach. I squirmed, trying to get her where I needed her, but she was taking her time, savoring me. I had thought my college boyfriends had rushed through things and apparently I had been right. But with Rylee…she was proving exactly how rewarding patience could be.

I was starting to think I do like girls after-all.

"Patience," she murmured, her lips ghosting over my hip. "I’m the Big Bad Wolf, and I’m going to huff"—she pressed a kiss to my skin—"and puff"—another kiss, lower this time—"and blow your house down."

I shivered, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. "Should I start calling you Big Bad?"

"Not until you're screaming it for the whole pack to hear." The promise in her voice sent another rush of heat through me.

Then her mouth was on me.

Pleasure shot through my body like lightning, arching my back, curling my toes. She worked me expertly, like she already knew every inch of me, like she'd been waiting for this moment as long as I had.

And god, the way she growled against me—deep, hungry vibrations sending pleasure rippling through me—was almost enough to undo me on its own.

My fingers fisted the sheets, my moans slipping into something desperate, something that wasn’t quite words. "Please, Rylee, please, I need⁠—"

She lifted her head slightly, eyes burning gold in the dim light, her smirk pure sin. "Say it."

I hesitated, caught between pleasure and instinct, then blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"Mate."

Her eyes flashed, something wild passing through them before she gave a low, approving growl.

And then she made me forget everything but her.

CHAPTER 7

She slid two fingers inside me, curling them in a way that made my eyes roll back, my breath shattering into pieces.

"Again," she commanded, her voice a low, seductive growl.

I was drowning in sensation, every thrust of her fingers pushing me closer, pulling me under, until her tongue found me again and then there was nothing but heat and Rylee and the way she was unraveling me.

"Mate," I gasped, my nails digging into her back. "You're my mate—oh god—my mate!"

The words sent something electric through her. She let out a low, approving growl, moving faster, deeper, until my entire body locked up and broke apart all at once. I came hard, trembling beneath her, my cry swallowed by her lips as she captured my mouth in a slow, possessive kiss.

She didn't stop right away, her fingers still moving, dragging out every last aftershock until I was nothing but a boneless, panting mess beneath her.

Finally, she slowed, withdrawing her fingers carefully as I whimpered at the loss. She climbed back up, wrapping herself around me like she never intended to let go, and tucked me against her chest.

"Mine," she murmured, her lips brushing my forehead.

I nuzzled into her neck, smiling against her skin. "Yours."

For a long time, we just lay there, tangled in each other, our breathing slow and steady as the last traces of sunset bled into darkness. I traced lazy patterns on her bare chest, laughing softly when she shivered under my touch.

"Hey," I said eventually, looking up at her. "In 'Lunar’s Embrace,' they say⁠—"

She groaned dramatically, making me laugh.

"What? It's relevant!"

"Daisy." She turned her head, giving me a fake warning look. "If you can't tell me something about shifters that doesn't come from a telenovela, after all... that," she gestured to the rumpled bed between us, "then I'm going to have to punish you."

My brows shot up. "Oh really? And what kind of punishment are we talking about here?"

Her eyes flashed gold, and a slow smirk curved her lips. "Something very, very dirty."

I sat up slightly, grinning wickedly. "Then I guess I’ll just have to think of some new shifter information. Because I wouldn’t want that."

She laughed, pulling me back down into another kiss. "I look forward to it."

We stayed like that for a while, limbs entwined, the afterglow wrapping around us like a warm blanket. The soft light of the fading sunset painted her skin in molten gold and deep pink, and for a moment, she looked almost otherworldly.

No.

Not almost.

She was.

Some mythical woodland creature brought to life.

I traced small circles on her chest, marveling at the quiet power that hummed beneath her skin. Even at rest, she radiated strength, a barely leashed energy that ran through her like a live wire.

How had I not seen it before? In her, in Naomi, in Lydia—who had strutted into the clinic like she owned the damn place. They all carried themselves with a raw, untamed confidence. A presence that said I belong to something greater than you can understand.

And yet here I was.

Lying next to a real wolf shifter.

Unreal.

I let my fingers wander absently, collecting my thoughts, until one finally formed clearly enough to say out loud.

"So," I murmured, turning my head to meet her gaze. "Tell me about shifting. What's it like to... you know, change?"

Rylee hummed thoughtfully, her hand trailing up and down my back in a slow, soothing caress. "It's hard to explain," she said after a moment. "At first, there's this... discomfort. Like every bone and organ is rearranging itself—breaking, burning. But then it’s like…" She hesitated, searching for the right words. "Like slipping into a different skin or even putting on a new pair of glasses. Everything is sharper, keener. The world is louder, brighter, more alive. Scents are overwhelming. Basic urges are… stronger. Hunger, mating.” She smirked. “But other things, like what’s happening in town or what pants I’m going to wear to see a sexy vet tech? Not so much. I can just be… me."

I chewed on that, trying to imagine what it would be like to wake up one day with the instincts of a wild animal. It sounded exhilarating. Terrifying, but exhilarating.

"Sounds... freeing," I admitted. "But also kind of scary?"

"Sometimes." She flashed me a rueful smile. "It’s easier to let the wolf take over, lose yourself in instinct. Less… thinking. About the past."

Her expression darkened, a shadow flitting across her features, and I tightened my arms around her without thinking. I didn’t push. I knew her past haunted her, but she only let me see parts of it when she was ready.

She exhaled and shifted against me, like shaking off a bad dream. "We’re born wolves, you know."

"Really?" That caught me off guard. "I thought you'd… I don’t know, get bitten by your parents or something. Or maybe shift for the first time when you were old enough."

She laughed, and my very mature brain immediately noted how her breasts wiggled and jiggled as she giggled. I bit my lip, barely keeping myself from laughing at my own ridiculousness. No way was I explaining that thought.

Still grinning, she shook off the last of whatever had darkened her mood. "Nope. We’re not vampires. No need for biting or coming-of-age ceremonies or moonlit transformation rituals. The wolf comes first. It’s how we first experience life. That world—smells, movement, instincts—it’s all we know at first. Then, as we get older, we develop the ability to shift."

I tried to wrap my head around it. "So… does anyone ever just not do it? Stay a wolf forever?"

She shook her head. "No. Shifting into human form is as natural as breathing. It happens slowly at first—awkwardly. My mom used to tell me stories about how I’d trip while playing chase with my packmates because my fingers would shift, and suddenly I had human-ish hands on my wolf body."

I stared at her, horrified and deeply fascinated. "Please tell me there's a picture."

She swatted my ass, making me yelp. "No blackmail photos for you today," she said, though her grin was wicked. "But if you stick around, I bet Luna will go through a similar phase. It’s common. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen teenage-sized human kids running around with tails."

"That’s so cool," I breathed. Where was this in high school?

She kissed the top of my head, still smiling. "Enough about my awkward childhood. Tell me about you. How did a cute, clumsy human like you end up in a place like this?"

I snorted. "Cute and clumsy, huh? You really have me pegged." Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling, thinking. "Honestly? I don't know. No particular skills. Just knew I didn’t want the corporate rat race. Thought maybe I'd find somewhere I could actually help. Be a better, more… aware person along the way. Had no idea I'd end up trading TV Standards and Practices for Wolf Standards and Practices." And your heart. But I kept that last part to myself.

Rylee barked out a laugh—no, really, it was almost a real bark, sharp and sudden, and more canine than human. "Well, wolves are a lot more chill than people. As long as you don’t wear roadkill perfume or leave an unattended bratwurst cookout within their sensory range."

I grinned. "Noted. I shall go au naturel at all times, lest I incur the wrath of the sausage brigade."

"You do that, I like your smell." She said it so casually I nearly choked on my own breath, already actively blushing to death, but before I could recover, she continued. "And you know… I’m glad you ended up here. Glad it’s you next to me and not some other lucky gal. Or guy. Or demisexual polecat. Point is, I’m really damn happy with how things shook out."

Something warm and aching spread through my chest. This beautiful, complicated creature trusted me—let me see her jagged edges, even if she hadn’t yet told me what had made them. She didn’t have to.

I snuggled closer, tracing slow, abstract patterns on her skin. "Speaking of how things shook out… can we talk about the whole mate thing?"

She tensed—just a flicker—but then exhaled and deliberately relaxed. "What do you want to know?"

"For starters, am I crazy, or can I actually feel your heartbeat? Like, inside my chest?" I pressed my palm to her sternum, half expecting to literally feel it echo under my ribs. "Because either I'm going insane, or there’s some serious supernatural weirdness happening here."

Her hand covered mine, pressing it more firmly against her heart. "You’re not imagining it. It’s… part of the mate bond. When we find our true mate, our hearts literally sync. It’s how we know for sure."

I swallowed hard. "So earlier, when we were…" My face definitely caught fire at the memory.

"When you were screaming mate while I made you cum so hard you’ll be dehydrated for a week?" she supplied, her voice full of smug satisfaction.

I groaned and buried my face in her shoulder. "Yes, that."

"You got it right." She shifted suddenly, rolling us so she hovered over me, her eyes dark with gold. Her voice dropped, rough and teasing. "Want to test the theory again?"

I pretended to think it over, even as my body immediately betrayed me, arching into hers. "Well, you know me—always eager to verify my TV research. For science."

"For science," she agreed solemnly, then grinned, sharp and wolfish. I swore I saw a fang.

"Though I should warn you," she murmured, brushing her lips along my jaw, "proper research requires multiple trials."

"Multiple, huh?" I slid my hands up her arms, tracing the firm, strong lines of her muscles. "In that case, I think it’s my turn to conduct some experiments."

Her brows lifted. "Oh really?"

"Mhmm." I pushed gently at her shoulder until she rolled onto her back, letting me straddle her hips. "I have a hypothesis about shifter sensitivity that needs testing."

Her laugh turned into a sharp inhale as I leaned down to nip at her collarbone. "And what—ah!—what hypothesis is that?"

"That enhanced senses," I murmured against her skin, trailing kisses down her chest, "mean enhanced pleasure."

I wasn’t a total novice in bed—I’d had my share of the usual college flings. But I’d never really liked it. Not the way I was supposed to. Guys had always been too much—too rough, too bitter, too wrong. Their skin had been tough, their taste sharp and briny, like an overripe orange left too long in the sun.

But Rylee… Rylee was something else entirely.

She was soft under my lips, her skin warm with the kind of heat that felt like home. She tasted faintly of sweat, but it was different—like honey over crisp apple skin. And the sounds she made? Those quiet, breathy little moans? They sent lightning straight to my core.

I had a theory that Rylee was everything I’d never been able to find before.

No, that wasn’t quite right.

It was simpler than that.

Rylee was just simply everything.

Her hands fisted in the sheets as I took one nipple into my mouth, testing my theory with my teeth and tongue. The way she arched beneath me, a low growl rumbling deep in her chest, suggested I was definitely onto something.

"Tell me if I'm doing this wrong," I whispered, moving lower. “You’re so much softer than a dude.”

She snorted, the same sound I’d heard from wolves when they were judging humans for being dumb. "You're doing everything right," she assured me, her voice raw with need. Then, softer, "Just... be careful. I might... the wolf might..."

I looked up to find her eyes blazing gold, pupils wide and dark. "Might what?"

Her breath hitched. "Might want to claim you. Mark you."

The possessiveness in her voice sent heat pooling low in my belly. "And if I want that?"

Her growl this time was pure wolf. "Daisy..."

"I mean it." I pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her hip bone. "I want all of you—wolf and human."

She surged up, capturing my mouth in a kiss that was all heat, all need, all claiming. When we parted, breathless, she rested her forehead against mine.

"Soon," she promised. "But not tonight. Tonight is just about us learning each other."

I smiled, pushing her gently back down. "In that case, lie back and let me study."

Her answering laugh turned into a moan as I resumed my exploration, determined to map every inch of her with hands, lips, and tongue.

Rylee stretched her arms above her head, watching me with those impossible golden eyes. For a moment, I just looked—at the smooth curves of her body, the way the dim light cast soft shadows across her skin. She was beautiful. Wild and untamed and entirely mine.

I wanted to touch all of her. Know her in a way no one else had.

My hands trembled slightly, a mix of nerves and excitement, but I was determined to make this good for her.

No rookie mistakes. No hesitation.

I ran my fingers down her sides, feeling the way her breath hitched as I skimmed over her ribs, then traced slow circles over her hips before moving back up to her breasts. She was warm and pliant beneath me, muscles shifting under my touch like something barely contained. I leaned down, capturing her other nipple between my lips, rolling it gently between my teeth.

Rylee gasped, her hands flying to tangle in my hair.

And just like that, I knew—I was going to make sure I ruined her for anyone else, experienced or not.

And I was going to enjoy every second of it.

"Is this okay?" I whispered against her skin, my lips brushing the soft swell of her breast.

"Yes," she breathed, barely more than a sigh. "Goddess, yes."

Encouraged, I continued, kissing and nipping my way down her stomach. I could feel the subtle flex of her muscles beneath my touch, the way she shifted under me—like she was caught between holding still and losing control. When I looked up, her eyes were glowing that impossible gold, locked onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

I moved lower, kissing her hip bone, then dragging my lips along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. A tremor ran through her. Her breathing stopped before she gasped, sharp and uneven. When I glanced up again, the need in her expression made my stomach flip.

"Tell me what to do," I murmured, voice wavering just slightly. "I want to make this good for you."

Her fingers tightened in my hair, guiding me gently. "Just... just go slow. Feel me."

I nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to her thigh before moving higher. When I finally reached the heat of her, I hesitated for half a second, breathing her in. She smelled incredible—heady and wild and nothing like anything I’d ever known before. Fuck, how had I not done this sooner? This was so much better than dick.

I kissed her first, soft and reverent, feeling the warmth of her against my lips. Rylee moaned, her hips shifting toward me, and I took that as the invitation it was, parting her with my tongue, slow and exploratory at first, then with more confidence as she responded to every touch.

Her body guided me, each gasp and shudder showing me where to go, what she liked, how she wanted me. I paid attention. I listened.

Then I found the spot that made her breath catch, her fingers clench in the sheets, her entire body went tight beneath me. I focused there, pressing my tongue against her with just the right amount of pressure, feeling her grow wetter, hotter. Her taste was intoxicating, making me greedy for more, making me lose myself in the sound of her moans.

"Daisy," she gasped, her voice a plea. "Please, don't stop."

I wasn’t stopping. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.

I kept going, using my tongue to push her closer and closer to the edge. And when I knew she was there, teetering, right on the precipice, I slid a finger inside her, curling just the way she had done to me before.

She shattered.

Her whole body arched, a cry spilling from her lips as she came undone beneath me. I held on, staying with her, drawing it out with gentle touches until her body finally relaxed, until her breath slowed from gasps to soft, uneven sighs.

When I looked up at her, her eyes were blazing, glowing so brightly it was almost unreal. Like she was something ancient, something untamed.

Something mine.

"Come here," she whispered, her voice warm and wrecked.

I crawled up, and she pulled me into her arms, kissing me like she never wanted to let me go. I could still feel her heart pounding in time with mine, could sense it somehow, like it was inside my own ribs. That connection—the thing between us—it was real. It was something bigger than either of us.

"That was..." she started, then stopped, shaking her head with a breathless laugh. "I don't even have words."

I grinned, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. "I'm just glad I didn’t totally biff it."

She pressed a soft kiss to my hair, and I felt her smile against my skin. "You couldn't have even if you tried. You make me feel..." She exhaled slowly, pulling me in tighter. "Seen. Loved."

My heart clenched, too full, too fast.

I lifted my head, looking into those gold-lit eyes, and before I could stop myself, the words spilled out. "I think I love you."

Shit.

I hadn't planned to say that. But it was true. It was right. And I didn’t want to take it back.

Her eyes softened. She cupped my cheek, her thumb tracing over my skin like she was memorizing me. "I love you too, Daisy." Her voice was steady, sure. "More than you'll ever know."

And just like that, I knew—I wasn’t going anywhere.

She was it for me.

We lay there for a long time, tangled together, our heartbeats steady and synced. The world outside Rylee's little cottage could wait. Right now, all that mattered was this—the warmth of her skin against mine, the way our bodies fit like we were made for each other, the bond between us growing stronger with every shared breath.

As I drifted toward sleep, wrapped in her arms, I knew that no matter what happened next, I wouldn’t regret a single moment of this night. I belonged here—with her. Not just in this bed, not just in this moment, but with her, in whatever way fate had decided.

I also knew I probably owed Olivia something. Without her meddling, none of this would have happened. I should send her an edible arrangement or something.

“Can you have chocolate?” I murmured sleepily.

“Huh?” Her response was groggy, her voice muffled by my hair.

“I mean, if I got, like, chocolate-covered strawberries or something, could a wolf shifter eat them?”

There was a pause. Then, grumpily: “I don’t like chocolate.”

“That’s okay, it’s not for you. It’d be for Naomi.”

Another pause. Then, she turned, rolling me into her, tugging me up so I was practically sprawled across her. She inhaled deeply, her nose pressed into my hair, like she was committing my scent to memory.

“Remind me to kill her when they get back tomorrow.”

I laughed, but she just tightened her hold, keeping me pinned until I settled again.

Okay, so that wasn’t a yes or a no. Did I risk giving my boss’s mate chocolate poisoning?

I woke to an empty bed.

The space beside me was cold, as if she'd been gone for a while. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I’d dreamed it all—the kisses, the heat, the whispered I love yous.

Having a mate.

Potential mate. Nothing was final. But still...

I shifted, and the soreness in my body told me—nope, definitely not a dream. Also, definitely not my bed.

A soft whimper from the living room caught my attention, followed by the restless shuffle of movement. My stomach twisted as I remembered our earlier conversation about the wolf bed. About how sometimes, being human was too much. About how sometimes, shifting was easier.

Slipping out of bed, I grabbed Rylee’s discarded t-shirt, tugging it over my head before padding barefoot toward the sound.

The moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows cast the room in silver, enough to make out the large, dark shape curled into the plush bed by the window.

Rylee’s wolf form was breathtaking—sleek and powerful, with that same quiet, restrained strength she carried as a human. But right now, she was trembling, the soft whimpering sounds cutting through the silence.

"Hey," I whispered, moving closer. "Bad dreams?"

Her head lifted, those familiar green-gold eyes finding mine in the dark. She made a low sound, something between a whine and a growl, and I understood.

Sometimes words were too much.

Sometimes being human was too much.

I hesitated for only a second before gesturing to the bed. “I meant what I said earlier about cuddles.”

Rylee’s wolf ears twitched as I spoke, but she didn’t move. I hesitated, watching her for a long moment. Was this a test? Some kind of wolfy evaluation?

Then, after what felt like an eternity, she shifted over slightly, making room.

Invitation accepted.

The bed was ridiculously comfortable—no wonder she liked sleeping here. It was softer than anything in the PawFection Animal Supply catalog Olivia stocked the clinic out of, and now I desperately wanted to know where she got it. Unfortunately, that particular question would have to wait until she had, you know, human lips and vocal cords.

Unless…

"You really can’t talk like that, right? No werewolf stuff going on? Telepathy?”

She let out a slow, pointed exhale, her eyes briefly shutting as though gathering the patience to deal with me. Then, with a dramatic sigh, she nuzzled the space beside her.

"That’s what I thought. Just checking."

I settled in, and after a moment’s hesitation, she curled around me, her body a wall of solid, steady warmth. I let my fingers run absently through her fur, marveling at the texture—so thick and soft, impossibly silky in places, coarser in others.

"You know," I mused, "if you can’t talk like this, then you can’t stop me from recapping all eleven seasons of Heart’s Desire."

She nipped at my thigh, making me yelp and fall deeper into her side.

"Ow! Rude!"

A snort that was very much a Rylee sound rumbled from her throat.

But then, just as quickly, the mood shifted. The playfulness melted away, leaving something quieter, something heavier.

"Hey," I whispered, stroking her fur more gently now, feeling the tension still wound tight in her frame. "Whatever it is... whatever haunts you... I'm here. I’ll be here for both versions of you."

She pressed closer, resting her massive head on my lap, and I felt a quiet sigh escape her. The tension in her shoulders eased, little by little, like knots finally unraveling. I kept running my fingers through her fur, humming softly—some old rock ballad my mom used to sing while doing the dishes.

As sleep pulled me under again, a lazy smile tugged at my lips. Shifter girlfriend. The words replayed in my head, looping over and over until they bled into dreams.

I woke to the soft golden light of morning spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows—and a pair of very human, very intent green eyes watching me.

"Hi," I mumbled, still tangled in a blanket I hadn’t covered myself with and half-asleep.

"Hi." She leaned down to press a kiss to my lips, warm and lingering. "Thank you. For last night. For understanding."

I reached up to touch her cheek, my fingers tracing the delicate line of her jaw. "Always."

Her smile was unlike anything I had ever dreamed of. It was warm, real, something meant only for me.

"Breakfast?" she offered. "I make a mean omelet. Nothing compared to the Queen Burrito, of course, but I try."

Laughing, I pushed myself up, stretching with an exaggerated flourish. "I am glad you have finally acknowledged my rightful title."

She swatted at me, but I dodged, grinning as her eyes darkened slightly—especially when her borrowed t-shirt rode up just enough to remind us both that I hadn’t put on underwear. A slow, lazy heat curled through my belly.

I bit my lip. "Although, I was thinking we could work up an appetite first..."

Her expression shifted instantly, heat flashing in her gaze, and I was certain we were about to forget all about omelets when my phone vibrated on the nightstand.

We both froze.

The screen lit up with a text from Olivia:

Found Luna. Heading back. Be ready. Need warm bedding and IV fluids.

Rylee read over my shoulder, and in an instant, her expression turned serious. "I guess breakfast will have to wait."

I exhaled, sitting up fully. "It took them a couple of days to get there, even speeding, they won’t be back until tonight."

She shot me a sideways glance, already pulling on her jeans. "You have clearly never seen Naomi drive angry."

I watched her move, waiting until she was a safe two steps away before tossing out, "Do you think chocolate-covered strawberries would help her mood?"

A warning growl rumbled through the room, and then, before I could react, I was flat on my back with a very smug, very jealous wolf hovering over me.

I laughed, helpless against the weight of her body, against the playful gleam in her eyes.

This.

Was.

The.

Best.

CHAPTER 8

"Are you sure this is clean?" I held up one of Rylee’s spare shirts, eyeing the wolf hair clinging to it suspiciously.

"Mostly clean," she replied, rummaging through a drawer for pants that might fit me. "Though you might want to avoid shifting in it."

I stuck my tongue out at her back. "Ha ha. You're hilarious at..." I checked my phone, squinting at the too-early numbers. "Six in the freaking morning. Also, I thought you said enhanced senses meant you were always aware of your surroundings?"

She turned, confusion clear on her face. "They do. Why?"

I gestured to the shirt. "Then how do you not notice when you're shedding all over your clean laundry?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I do not shed."

"Uh-huh." I plucked a particularly long black hair from the fabric, holding it up triumphantly. "Then what’s this?"

She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like strategic fur placement before tossing a pair of sweatpants at my head.

"These should fit. They're too long on me anyway."

I caught the pants, noting they were indeed several inches too long. "You know, for someone who can literally turn into a wolf, you’re very sensitive about the shedding thing."

"I am not sensitive," she said, then immediately undermined herself by adding, "And it's not shedding, it's... a form of marking territory."

I froze. Then burst out laughing. "Oh my god, did you just admit to deliberately getting wolf hair on your clothes?"

She closed the space between us in two quick strides, backing me up against the dresser. "Maybe I just like the idea of you wearing my scent."

The possessive note in her voice sent a rush of heat through me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She leaned in, nuzzling my neck in a way that was very wolfish. "Makes it clear you're mine."

"Yours," I agreed, tilting my head to give her better access. "Though if you’re trying to distract me from the shedding thing, it’s not going to work."

She growled playfully, nipping at my pulse point. "We don’t have time for this. Luna needs us."

"Then stop being so damn sexy first thing in the morning."

She pulled back with a smirk. "Not possible. Now get dressed—I’ll make coffee while you figure out how to roll up those pants."

Twenty minutes later, we were in her kitchen, me with coffee in hand while she fussed with dishes in the sink, going over Olivia’s supply list one more time.

"IV fluids?"

"Check."

"Sterile bandages?"

"Check."

"Your dignity after admitting you deliberately shed on your clothes?"

She flicked water at me from the sink. "Focus, please. We have a puppy to save."

"I am focused!" I protested, dodging another water attack. "Multi-tasking is a valuable skill. Speaking of which..." I pulled out my phone, typing quickly.

Rylee narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Checking if chocolate-covered strawberries can kill wolves. Google says no, but WebMD says I might have cancer, so..."

The look she gave me was priceless—somewhere between exasperated and amused. "You're impossible."

"You still love it."

"I do." She came around the counter and kissed me softly, her lips warm and familiar. "Though I still might kill Naomi for putting ideas in your head."

"No killing allowed," I mumbled against her lips. "Bad for pack morale. Plus, she didn’t put it in my head."

"Oh? Then how did it get there?"

"By train." I smiled, trying for innocent, but she clearly wasn’t buying it. No more than when I’d once tried to distract her with a fake spider on her shoulder while sneakily moving my queen during a chess game. She had caught that too.

"Train of thought," I clarified as she leaned in, her wild scent making it hard to have thoughts at all. "I was trying to figure out a way to thank Olivia for dragging me into this craziness, and then I realized it was actually Naomi who did it. If she hadn’t stood in the middle of the road, none of this would have happened."

She was about to respond when both our phones buzzed at the same time—Olivia, updating their location.

We broke apart, the playful mood shifting to something more serious.

"Ready?" Rylee asked, her eyes searching mine.

I squeezed her hand. "Ready. Let's go help your pup."

The hike to the clinic was quick, the early morning paths mostly empty save for the occasional wolf trotting off into the woods for breakfast. As we got closer, I could see pack members already arriving, carrying supplies and preparing for Luna’s return.

Casey waved from where she was unloading what looked like an absurd number of blankets. No chairs, no boxes, just blankets. "About time! We were starting to think you two got distracted again."

"Ha ha," I called back, helping Rylee with our own load. "Like you can talk. I saw you making eyes at that brown and white wolf yesterday."

Her cheeks reddened slightly. "I was not making eyes!"

"Sure, and Rylee doesn’t shed."

"I do not—" Rylee started, then caught herself as several pack members snickered. She exhaled sharply, glaring at me. "Just... get inside and help set up the recovery room. This is your job, after all. We are just the hired, helping hands."

I grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before heading in. "Yes, dear."

Inside, the clinic was already bustling with activity. The recovery room we'd set up yesterday was being stocked with fresh supplies, and someone had thought to bring in some additional, extra comfortable chairs for whoever would be staying with Luna.

I moved through the space, double-checking equipment and organizing supplies, watching as the pack fell into an easy rhythm of cooperation. It wasn’t just efficiency—it was familiarity.

This wasn’t just a pack.

It was a family.

And somehow, without me even realizing it, I had started to belong here too.

The thought made me smile as I caught sight of Rylee across the room, directing traffic with an easy confidence that spoke of natural leadership, even if she wasn’t the highest ranking. She looked up, catching my eye, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just that—the soft, private smile she gave me, the one that made my heart stumble in my chest.

Yeah. This was definitely better than any telenovela.

Though I was still ordering those chocolate strawberries.

It just felt like the right thing to do.

By mid-morning, we had checked every supply at least three times, reorganized the recovery room to a near-obsessive degree, hung multiple IV bags, and fire-tested at least five heating pads.

I was out of things to pretend needed doing.

The waiting was the worst part—the endless stretch of time between preparation and action where your mind starts conjuring worst-case scenarios. Back at the original clinic, the minutes between a crying patient on the phone and that same patient rushing in with a pup’s broken leg had felt like hours. This? This was unbearable.

I was halfway through my fourth inventory count when I noticed something: Rylee hadn’t come back from her supposed supply run to the storage room.

The storage room that was approximately ten steps away.

She’d been gone for fifteen minutes.

I frowned. That’s not good.

"I'm going to check on..." I gestured vaguely toward the door, and Casey, who was arranging blankets for the thousandth time, barely looked up.

"Go. She gets like this sometimes when she’s worried. All aloof."

I frowned harder. Aloof? That didn’t seem like the right word for Rylee.

Still, I picked up the pace.

I found her in the storage room, methodically rearranging boxes we had already organized twice. Her movements were sharp, almost aggressive, the tension in her shoulders a clear sign of something more.

"Hey," I said softly, closing the door behind me. “Casey said you might be in here, all afloof. Want to talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about." She didn’t look up, just kept moving the same box back and forth. "Just making sure everything’s ready."

I watched as her head tilted slightly, like she was actually running through my words. “Did you just say I was aloof?”

"You know. A floof. Floofy. Full of fur. Likely shedding. Or maybe I did say aloof? Who can say for sure?”

She growled at that, but I couldn’t bring myself to be even remotely intimidated.

"So," I tried again, more serious this time. "Everything ready, then?"

"Not yet." She reached for another box, still not looking at me.

"Uh-huh." I stepped closer, gently taking the supplies from her hands. "And these bandages needed to be reorganized again because...?"

She finally met my eyes.

The vulnerability there took my breath away.

"I just... I need to make sure everything's perfect. That we’re ready. That..."

I squeezed her hands. "That you’re in control?"

The way she flinched told me I’d hit a nerve.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only to someone who’s spent the last week falling in love with you."

Her closed her eyes, breathing slowly, and I gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Talk to me?"

She was quiet for a long moment, then, barely above a whisper: "Can we... not here?"

I nodded and led her to Olivia’s office—the only truly private space in the clinic. Or at least it was right now, since it was the only room in the barn with an actual soundproof door.

As soon as that door closed behind us, Rylee started pacing, her restless energy practically vibrating off her in waves.

Then, abruptly, like she couldn’t hold it in any longer⁠—

"I was eighteen," she said. "My pack... they were traditional. Very traditional. And there was this lone wolf, twice my age, who was threatening our borders..."

My stomach dropped as I immediately started to see where this was going.

Now this was some novella plot shit.

"They thought..." She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "They thought marrying me off to him would solve everything. Give him a stake in the pack, make him loyal." She stopped pacing, staring out the window. "They didn’t even ask me. Just... arranged it. Like I was a pawn to be sacrificed for the greater good."

Fuck.

"What did you do?" I asked softly, even though I already had a pretty damn good idea.

"What any self-respecting she-wolf would do," she turned to me with a fierce grin that didn’t quite hide the pain in her eyes. "I fought. And I ran. Found my way here eventually after Lydia took me in. Learned to play chess for real—figured if I was going to be treated like a game piece, I might as well know all the moves."

"Smart," I said, moving to stand beside her. "Though personally, I would have set their chess sets on fire first. And by that, I mean their houses. Or dens. Or whatever. Maybe cut off his balls. I don’t think neutering a wolf is technically a crime."

That startled a real laugh out of her. "Really? That’s your take on this? Neutering and arson?"

"Well, yeah. Nothing says ‘fuck you’ quite like burning their homes and taking their balls. That’s the ultimate power play." I bumped her shoulder gently. "Though I suppose running away and building a better life is pretty good too."

She turned to me fully then, eyes searching mine. "You're not... you don't think less of me? For running?"

I cupped her face in my hands without hesitation. "Are you kidding? I think you're incredibly brave. You chose yourself over their bullshit. That takes serious courage."

She leaned into my touch, her voice quieter now. "I just... I never want anyone to make those choices for me again. Never want to feel that powerless."

"Hey." I waited until she met my eyes. "No one here is going to force you into anything. Especially not me. Whatever this is between us? It's our choice. Both of us."

She smiled, small but real. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to... well, not die, because that would be dramatic, but maybe stub my toe really hard?"

That earned another laugh, and she pulled me into a tight hug. "You're ridiculous."

"You still really love it."

"I do." She pressed a kiss to my temple. "Thank you."

"For what this time?”

"For making me laugh when I’m scared. For understanding. For..." She gestured vaguely. "Everything."

I was about to respond with something appropriately snarky when Casey knocked on the door.

"Guys? Olivia just texted—they’re about an hour out."

Rylee tensed slightly, but this time it felt more like anticipation than anxiety. “She really is flying. We should finish getting ready."

"Lead the way, chess master." I squeezed her hand, giving her one last reassuring look before we stepped out of Olivia’s office. "Though for the record, if anyone ever tries to arrange anything for you again, I know where to buy an endless supply of matches."

Her laugh echoed through the clinic as we headed back to work, and several pack members looked up in surprise at the sound. The way they smiled at seeing Rylee more relaxed told me I wasn’t the only one who’d been worried about her.

As we moved through final preparations, pack members kept finding excuses to check in, offering support in their own ways. Some brought food, others just touched Rylee’s shoulder as they passed—small, quiet gestures that said we see you and you’re safe here without needing words.

It was like the wolves could feel something brewing in her that I couldn’t.

I wasn’t jealous, necessarily.

But I also wasn’t not jealous.

The contrast between this pack and her old one couldn’t have been more obvious, and I saw it in the way Rylee’s shoulders gradually relaxed, in how she let others help instead of trying to control everything herself. The weight she carried—had always carried—was finally being shared.

When my phone buzzed with another update from Olivia, Rylee was ready.

We all were.

“Hey,” I said softly as we did one final check of the recovery room, plugging in the lucky heating pad we’d chosen to keep Luna warm. “For what it’s worth? I think you’re winning this game.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What game?”

“Life. Chess. Whatever metaphor works best.” I grinned. “Though I still think fire would’ve been more satisfying.”

She pulled me in for a quick kiss, ignoring Casey’s theatrical gagging sounds from the doorway. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Probably something terrible in a past life,” I quipped. “Now come on—we have a puppy to save.”

CHAPTER 9

The text from Olivia was simple: 5 minutes out. Be ready.

I took a deep breath, double-checking the tiny IV line we’d prepared. Everything in the recovery room looked almost comically large as I thought about just how small Luna would be compared to our typical patients.

“Hey.” Rylee’s hand settled on my lower back, grounding me. “You’ve got this. We’re a tough breed—it’ll take more than whatever happened to pull her under.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, trying to project more confidence than I felt. “Just… she’s going to be so little, isn’t she?”

“She’s strong,” Rylee assured me, though I could hear the worry beneath her words. “Like her both her mothers.”

I wanted to ask a follow-up question to that, knowing bits and pieces of Sage and Jayne’s story from Olivia. But outside, I could hear the pack gathering, their energy palpable even through the walls. Some were in wolf form, others human, all waiting with the same anxious anticipation.

Then the car pulled up, and everything happened at once.

Naomi was out first, moving faster than I’d ever seen her. In her arms was a bundle of blankets that seemed impossibly small, and my heart clenched at the weak whimpers coming from within.

“Inside,” Olivia ordered, her usual calm replaced by urgent authority. “Now.”

As they rushed past, I got my first real look at Luna, and my breath caught. The tiny wolf pup was barely visible in the folds of the blanket, her silver-grey fur dull and matted. But it was her breathing that scared me most—shallow and labored, each tiny exhale seeming to take too much effort.

Medical training kicked in, pushing emotion aside as we moved her to the prepared table. While Olivia rattled off vitals and symptoms, I focused on getting the IV line ready. Luna was so small that finding a vein would be tricky, but we’d prepared for this.

“You can do this…” I mumbled under my breath, parting the fur on her tiny leg. “You’ve hit a screaming Chihuahua’s vein while it tried to bite your head off. This is easy…”

My hands still shook as Luna blinked up at me, her throat working in an almost constant whimper.

“Rylee,” I called out, not looking up. “I need more light.”

She was there instantly, adjusting the lamp to the perfect angle. We’d practiced for this, running through every possible scenario while we waited. Now, that practice paid off as we moved together seamlessly, anticipating each other’s needs without words.

Outside, the pack pressed close to the windows, their presence a mixture of support and concern. Soft whines came from the wolves, and even the humans radiated unease. But inside the recovery room, there was only focused determination.

“Got it,” I murmured as the IV slipped into place. The line looked enormous against Luna’s fragile leg and paw, but it was our best chance at fighting the silver poisoning.

Olivia nodded approval, already preparing the first round of medication. “Good. Now we wait. Keep her warm.” She glanced up at Rylee, her expression softening, “It’s not like it was with Sage. The application was different, not meant to kill. She’s going to be ok now that we have her back.”

The next hour was a slow march of careful monitoring and gentle adjustments. According to Olivia, Luna had been doing well until about two hours ago—then the chill from the car and lack of hydration had taken their toll. Right now, those were the bigger threats than the silver. Sixty minutes of slow-drip IV later, her breathing had begun to steady, and the faintest bit of color returned to her tiny face.

“Her color’s better,” Rylee observed, leaning closer. She’d barely left my side the entire time, handing me supplies before I could ask and offering silent support.

She was right—Luna’s skin and fur had lost that sickly grey tinge, though she was still too quiet for a pup her age. According to Olivia, she should have been starting to crawl, to explore her world with typical puppy enthusiasm. Instead, she lay curled in her blankets, only occasionally twitching her tiny nose.

But she was alive.

She was fighting.

“She’s going to be okay,” I said, as much to convince myself as anyone else. “She just needs time.”

Rylee’s hand found mine, squeezing gently. “Thanks to you.”

“Thanks to all of us,” I corrected, glancing around at our makeshift medical team. “Though I still think chocolate-covered strawberries would help the recovery process.”

Rylee growled low in warning, the sound sharp enough to wake Luna and earn her a glare from both Naomi and Olivia. She glared right back, and for an instant, I thought I might have pushed too far.

If my wolf girlfriend picked a fight with my boss’s wolf mate, I might owe them more than strawberries—possibly my entire monthly budget in edible arrangements.

Olivia rolled her eyes, putting a hand on Naomi’s shoulder before stepping forward to check Luna’s vitals again.

“I won’t pretend to know what that’s all about but speaking of recovery,” my boss said, adjusting the IV, “she’s stable enough for us to take shifts. Why don’t you two get some air? The pack’s gathering outside.”

I hesitated, unwilling to leave our tiny patient, but Rylee tugged gently at my hand.

“Come on,” she said softly. “Luna’s in good hands, and you need a break.”

I looked down at the sleeping pup one last time. She did seem more peaceful now, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steadier rhythm.

As we stepped outside, Rylee pulled me close, pressing a kiss to my temple. “You were amazing in there,” she murmured.

I leaned into her, suddenly feeling the exhaustion creeping in. “So were you. We make a pretty good team.”

“The best,” she agreed, then added with a hint of humor, “Though if you try to give Naomi chocolate, we’re going to have words.”

“Spoilsport.”

The pack had gathered in a loose circle outside the clinic, a mix of human and wolf forms all focused on Casey as she gave what seemed to be a security update. As we approached, I could hear her describing patrol routes and guard schedules.

“…doubled the patrols along the eastern border,” she was saying, gesturing toward the woods. “No sign of the hunters, but we’re not taking any chances.”

A large grey wolf huffed in agreement, and several others nodded.

“How’s the pup?” someone called out as we joined the group.

“Stable,” Rylee answered, her hand still firmly in mine. “The IV fluids are helping, and her breathing’s better. She won’t be joining Sage anytime soon.”

A collective sigh of relief rippled through the pack. I hadn’t realized just how invested everyone was in Luna’s recovery, but it made sense. From what I’d gathered, pack bonds ran deep, especially when it came to pups.

“Good,” Casey said, then turned back to the group. “No one here wants to deal with Jayne if she doesn’t pull through.”

There were low mumbles of agreement—almost like a betting pool.

“Lydia’s on her way,” Casey continued. “She wants a full report on both Luna and any hunter activity. You or your boss will need to handle the Luna update—I’ll take security.”

At the mention of Lydia, I felt Rylee tense slightly beside me. Without thinking, I squeezed her hand, remembering her earlier vulnerability about pack politics and control. She squeezed back, some of the tension easing from her shoulders, though I could still feel the weight of Lydia’s impending presence pressing in.

The meeting continued, with various pack members reporting on their sectors. It was fascinating to watch—the seamless way they communicated across forms, how even the wolves managed to contribute through a complex system of gestures, low rumbles, and pointed looks. It wasn’t just a meeting; it was instinct woven into structure, an unspoken hierarchy operating with a level of efficiency I’d never seen before.

I was so caught up in observing that I almost missed the arrival of the sleek black sedan.

Almost.

The pack noticed it instantly, their attention snapping toward the vehicle before it even rolled to a complete stop. When Lydia stepped out, she looked exactly as I remembered her—powerful, composed, and slightly terrifying. The pack parted to let her through, and I noticed how everyone straightened up, like soldiers standing at attention.

“Report,” she said simply.

Casey stepped forward, rattling off a quick but thorough summary, which, much to my relief, contained everything the Alpha needed to know—Luna’s condition, the security measures, and the lack of hunter activity. Lydia listened intently, her expression unreadable, and when Casey finished, she turned her sharp gaze on me.

“You helped stabilize her?”

I swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how still everyone had gone, waiting for my answer. “Yes,” I said, trying not to sound intimidated. “The IV fluids are helping, and her vitals are improving. She’s being kept warm and hydrated—those seem to be the biggest concerns right now.”

Lydia continued watching me, as if waiting for more. I straightened my shoulders under the weight of her gaze, forcing myself to meet it.

“They didn’t use too much silver,” I added. “Probably didn’t know the exact dose for a pup so small. There shouldn’t be any permanent damage.”

Silence stretched between us for a long moment, then Lydia nodded. “Good work.” Her gaze shifted to Rylee, and I caught the slightest softening in her expression. “Both of you.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” Rylee said quietly, and there was so much packed into those three words—gratitude, respect, maybe even relief. The acceptance, the trust.

Without another word, Lydia turned and headed into the clinic to see Luna for herself. Gradually, the pack dispersed, wolves melting back into the forest, humans heading toward their homes. Soon, it was just the two of us standing in the fading afternoon light, the air cool against my skin after the heat of the clinic.

“You okay?” I asked softly, turning to face Rylee.

She nodded, but there was something distant in her eyes, like she was still sorting through everything. “Yeah. Just… a lot happening.”

“Tell me about it.” I rested my head on her shoulder, breathing in her wild scent. “Did you see how many different shades of grey fur there were in that crowd? And here I thought wolves were supposed to be basic.”

She snorted. “Really? That’s what you took from all this?”

“Well, that and the fact that your Alpha is scarier than any TV supervillain I’ve ever seen.”

Rylee huffed out something between a laugh and a sigh. “Lydia’s not…” She hesitated, then relented. “Okay, yeah. She can be intimidating. But she’s fair. She gave me a home when I needed one.”

I lifted my head to look at her, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “And now you’ve given me one too.”

Her eyes softened, gold creeping in at the edges. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I smiled, leaning up to kiss her softly. “Though if I am going to move in, I still think this place could use some chocolate⁠—”

She cut me off with another kiss, this one decidedly less soft, and I promptly forgot everything I was going to say.

Including whatever argument I was about to make about strawberries.

Or anything else, for that matter.

The sharp click of Lydia’s heels on concrete and gravel broke through the moment, and Rylee and I jumped apart like guilty teenagers. She passed by without comment, though I swore I caught the ghost of a smile on her face as she headed for her car.

“Daisy?” Olivia’s voice called from inside. We turned to find her in the doorway, looking exhausted but relieved. “Could you watch Luna for a bit? Naomi and I need to grab some clean clothes and food. We’ve been on the road for…”

“What felt like two weeks,” Naomi finished from behind her, already guiding Olivia out of the barn turned emergency clinic. They had a room in the main house, shared with Lydia and a few other pack officers.

“Of course,” I said immediately. “Go, get changed. Eat something that isn’t gas station jerky and big gulps.” At their surprised looks, I added, “What? I watch road trip movies. I know how these things go.”

Olivia smiled tiredly. “Thanks. We won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” Rylee said. “We’ve got this.”

We watched them walk to their car, Naomi practically holding Olivia up. Once they were gone, I turned to Rylee. “Ready to check on our patient?”

She nodded, and we headed back inside.

The clinic was quiet except for the soft beeping of monitors and the occasional whimper from Luna. It wasn’t distress—it sounded more like a dream, tiny feet kicking beneath the blankets as her lips curled into the most adorable attempt at a growl I’d ever seen. Smiling, I pulled out my phone, recording a few seconds before placing a soothing hand lightly over her side.

Rylee gave me a look. “Really?”

“To show her when she’s older,” I said with a grin. “She was too cute not to preserve that tiny ferocity.”

Rylee raised an eyebrow. “Would you just stop to video me if I was growling at you?”

The question sent a heat wave straight through my core, my brain short-circuiting at the image of her wolf pinning me against a wall—nowhere to run, her head so close to mine, breath hot against my skin⁠—

“I guess you’d need to be growling at me for us to find out,” I managed, trying for nonchalant and failing miserably. “Preferably in the bedroom, while I’m… uh…”

“Naked?” She smirked.

I both loved and hated it.

“Maybe.”

She still looked smug.

I both loved and hated that too.

I looked away, refusing to meet her gaze before we ended up giving the storage closet a very unconventional purpose.

Luna looked even smaller in the dim light, but her breathing was stronger, steadier. I checked her IV line as she stirred slightly, her tiny nose twitching as she caught our scent.

“Hey there, little one,” I murmured, adjusting her blankets. “Feeling better?”

She made a soft sound—almost an agreement—then promptly sneezed.

The unexpected cuteness of it made me laugh. “That’s a good sign, right?”

Rylee nodded, smiling. “Means her nose is clearing up.”

“Yeah?” I glanced at her. “Medical expertise or wolf instinct?”

“Neither. I was just also a very sneezy puppy.”

I was about to respond when Casey appeared in the doorway, her expression serious. “Rylee? We need you outside. Possible Hunter activity near the eastern border.”

Rylee tensed beside me, that protective energy radiating off her like heat from a wildfire. She looked at Luna, then at me, clearly torn.

“Go,” I said softly. “I’ve got this. She’s stable, and Olivia will be back soon.”

She hesitated for only a second before pressing a quick kiss to my temple, then followed Casey out. Through the window, I watched as they joined a group of wolves gathering at the tree line, their forms disappearing into the growing darkness.

I looked back at Luna, who had drifted back to sleep. Sighing, I smoothed a hand over her soft fur. “Your timing could have been better, kiddo. I was this close to convincing her about those strawberries.”

The pup’s ear twitched, and I swore she looked amused.

“Don’t you start,” I muttered, checking her temperature one more time. “I’ll have you know chocolate-covered fruit is a perfectly reasonable thank-you gift.”

Luna just snuffled in her sleep, unimpressed with my logic.

But she was breathing easier now, her tiny body warm and relaxed under my touch.

She was going to be okay.

I just had to hope Rylee would be too.

CHAPTER 10

"You know," Olivia said, watching me pace the length of the clinic for the hundredth time, "Rylee would have given you a key if you'd asked."

"I'm not going to ask for a key after a week," I protested, checking Luna's IV line again, even though nothing had changed in the last five minutes. "That's like, crazy soon-to-be-ex territory, even by telenovela standards."

"You do realize you're basically living together already?"

"We are not—" I started, then paused as I mentally counted how many of my clothes were currently at Rylee’s cottage. It was a number higher than zero, which meant Olivia technically had a point, but just a sliver of one. "Okay, maybe we're adjacent to living together someday soonish, but that's different than asking for a key."

Olivia’s knowing smile made me want to throw something at her. "Whatever you say. Though you might want to reconsider that stance unless you enjoy hanging around the clinic at..." she checked her phone, "eleven thirty at night."

"I'm here because I'm dedicated to my patients," I said primly, adjusting Luna’s blanket. The pup had barely stirred all evening, but her breathing was strong and steady.

"Uh-huh. Nothing to do with worrying about a certain wolf?"

I pointed dramatically toward Luna, my face screaming, what about THIS wolf? I’m just concerned about THIS one, and stop pestering me about Rylee because she’s out there and could be hurt right now and I can’t take that and⁠—

Luckily, I was saved from answering by the sound of approaching footsteps outside. Seconds later, Rylee appeared in the doorway, looking tired but unharmed. The relief that flooded through me was embarrassingly intense.

"Hey," she said softly, stepping forward to wrap her arms around me. "Sorry that took so long."

I leaned into her, breathing in her scent while secretly running my hands over everything I could touch to check for wounds.

"Everything okay?" Olivia asked.

"False alarm," she murmured into my hair, then spoke louder. "But we had to do a full perimeter check just in case. Found some old tracks, nothing fresh."

"I'll just... go check on Naomi then," Olivia said, sliding off her chair with a knowing smirk. "Try not to wake Luna."

As soon as she was gone, I turned in Rylee’s arms. "You're okay? Really okay?"

"Really okay," she assured me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Though I hear someone's been pacing."

"Olivia's a snitch."

She laughed softly. "I might have been standing outside the door listening for a couple of minutes while I shifted back and caught my breath. She also mentioned something about keys?"

"Oh god." I buried my face in her shoulder. "Can we pretend that conversation never happened?"

I hated wolf hearing.

"Nope." She pulled back enough to meet my eyes, expression serious despite the amusement dancing in them. "Because I actually have something for you."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver key attached to an oddly-shaped keychain. As she placed it in my palm, my fingers instinctively curled around it. I turned it over, my brain catching on the familiar shape. It wasn’t just any keychain—it was a wolf-themed pawn piece.

"Rylee..."

"Before you overthink this," she cut in, "I'm not asking you to move in. Though I wouldn’t mind if you did." Her fingers curled over mine, closing my hand around the key. "I just... I want you to know you always have a place here. With me. And you'd be close enough that if there were any emergencies or late-night patients, you wouldn’t have to drive all the way back into town."

I stared at the key, emotion thick in my throat. "Even though I keep threatening you with chocolate-covered strawberries?"

"Especially because of that. And burritos. And telenovelas." She smiled, that soft, private smile that made my heart flip. "You make me laugh when I’m scared. You see me—all of me—and you're still here. You're..." She hesitated, then continued in a quiet voice that sent shivers down my spine, "You're my mate, Daisy. My choice. And I choose to give you a key."

I clutched the key tighter, blinking back tears. "That was really smooth, you know that?"

"I try." She pulled me closer, nuzzling into my neck in that way that always made me melt, as though the wolf inside her couldn’t get enough of my scent. "Though I should warn you—Casey's already planning a welcome party."

"Of course she is." I laughed wetly, embarrassed by the tears rolling down my cheeks. I told myself it was the stress of the long day.

She kissed me softly.

We stood there for a moment, just holding each other, until a small sound came from inside the clinic. Luna stirred in her sleep, her tiny whimper breaking the quiet. The noise seemed to remind Rylee of something, her expression shifting into something more serious.

"There's… something else we need to talk about," she said, leading me to the chairs Olivia had vacated. "Some of the senior wolves met while we were checking the perimeter."

"About the hunters?"

She nodded. "There are rumors that we might be planning an attack on their headquarters. Soon."

Something cold settled in my stomach. "How soon?"

"A few days, maybe. They're waiting for Jayne and Princess to get back." She ran a hand through her hair—a nervous habit I recognized immediately. "They want to strike while the hunters are still regrouping from losing Luna."

"That makes sense," I said carefully, studying her face. "But you're worried."

"I'm…" she struggled for the right words. "I don't want you anywhere near this fight. But I also know I can't ask you to leave—not when we might need your medical skills."

"Hey." I took her hands in mine, grounding her. "I'm not going anywhere. Whatever happens, you trusted me with your secrets. The whole pack did. I’m here to help and heal—just like Olivia."

She brought our joined hands to her lips, pressing a lingering kiss to my knuckles. "You're too perfect when you aren't being silly."

I smirked. "So what you’re saying is, I should threaten you with chocolate-covered strawberries more often to get that quota back up?”

She groaned, but the tension in her shoulders eased. "If you ever actually buy them, I’m making you eat every single one."

“Empty threat.”

We laughed, but we both knew the moment of levity wouldn’t last. Because no matter how much we joked, the reality of what was coming loomed over us.

And this time, there might not be a punchline.

"Besides," I added, nudging Rylee’s side, "someone has to keep you from doing anything stupidly heroic."

Her answering growl was somehow both playful and possessive. "I seem to recall you being the one who wanted to set things on fire."

"That was totally different."

"How?"

"It just was." I stuck my tongue out at her. "Now, are you going to take me home and show me where this key goes, or do I have to figure it out myself?"

Her eyes flashed gold at the word home, and suddenly, the space between us felt charged with something else entirely.

"Home," she repeated, voice dropping to that low, rough register that never failed to make me shiver. "I like the sound of that."

Behind us, Luna sneezed in her sleep, effectively ruining the moment.

Rylee sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “In a bit,” she promised, pressing a lingering kiss to my temple. "For now, let’s check on our patient and wait for Olivia to get back. Then we’ll talk about taking you home.”

"Home," I echoed, turning the small keychain over in my fingers. The weight of it felt warm, solid—real. "I like the sound of that too."

The walk back to Rylee’s cottage was agonizingly slow, each step charged with electricity. Our hands were locked, fingers tangled, as if letting go even for a moment was impossible. Every few paces, she’d squeeze my hand or tug me closer, her warmth bleeding into me through the crisp night air.

By the time we reached her door, my pulse was hammering, anticipation coiling tight in my stomach. It felt like the first time again, and I had a feeling it always would with her. I pulled out my new key with a slow, exaggerated flourish. "Should I do the honors?"

"Wait."

Her fingers circled my wrist, stopping me cold. When I turned, I found her eyes molten in the silvery moonlight, more gold than green, her wolf riding just beneath the surface.

Cliche as it is - I forgot to breathe.

"Before we go in..." She swallowed, her voice husky, weighted. "I need you to understand something."

A flicker of nerves twisted through me. Rylee didn’t hesitate unless something mattered. "Okay?"

"What I said before, about you being my mate—my choice..." She exhaled, slow and deep. "Once we cross this threshold, everything changes. The mating bond… it’s permanent. Forever."

I tilted my head, studying her face, the way the muscles in her jaw tensed, the way her fingers trembled just slightly against my skin. She wasn’t scared of the bond. She was scared I wouldn’t want it.

"Are you trying to give me an out?" I asked softly.

"I'm trying to make sure you understand what you're getting into." Her thumb traced slow circles on my wrist, the touch burning through me. "This isn't just moving in together or exchanging keys. This is… everything. My wolf, my heart, my life—they become yours."

"And I become yours," I whispered.

She nodded, her gaze fierce. "No going back."

I stepped into her space, my free hand cupping her cheek, tilting her face up to mine. "Rylee…" My thumb brushed over her bottom lip. "I knew you were it for me the moment you caught those damn feed bags. Everything since then has just confirmed it."

Her lips twitched. "Even the shedding?"

"Especially the shedding." I grinned, leaning in until our lips were a breath apart. "I choose you too. All of you—wolf, chess nerd, and whatever else you’ve got hidden away."

A growl vibrated through her chest, low and wanting, before she crushed her mouth against mine. It was raw, desperate—like she needed to feel me as much as she needed to breathe. She backed me up until my spine met the door, her body pressing flush against mine, her warmth sinking into me, making my knees weak.

"Say it again," she growled against my lips.

"I choose you," I murmured, the words a promise. “I’m yours.”

That was all it took.

She kissed me like she was trying to consume me, her tongue sweeping against mine in a way that sent heat pooling low in my belly. My fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, needing more.

"Inside," she demanded, voice rough, breath ragged.

I fumbled with the key, my hands shaking as she dragged open-mouthed kisses down my neck, her lips and fangs teasing over my skin. A sharp nip at my pulse point sent a shudder through me, my body arching into hers.

Finally, the lock clicked. We stumbled inside, the door slamming shut behind us.

Rylee was on me in an instant.

She pinned me against the door, kissing me so fiercely it stole my breath. Her hands roamed over my body, leaving fire in their wake, claiming, teasing, igniting. My pulse thundered in my ears as her lips traveled down my throat, fangs grazing lightly, sending an electric pulse straight to my core.

I felt them—sharp, dangerous.

My heart stopped.

She froze, sensing the shift, but instead of pulling back, she deepened the kiss, like she was breathing for me, pulling me under, grounding me in her. The moment passed, and my heart slammed back to life, this time in rhythm with hers.

When she finally pulled away, her pupils were blown wide, eyes pure molten gold.

She gripped my wrist, half leading, half dragging me toward the bedroom, her body thrumming with unrestrained energy. I barely kept up—it wasn’t my fault my legs felt like jelly.

"I want you," she growled, her voice thick with hunger, raw and untamed. "I need you. Now."

My breath caught.

For the first time, I truly saw the wolf in her.

The way she held herself, every muscle tensed and vibrating with restraint. The way her hands curled into fists at her sides, barely keeping from reaching for me. She was waiting for me to give in—to accept her completely.

As we stumbled into the bedroom I pressed my hands against her chest, feeling the low, constant rumble of her growl, the way her body shook with the effort to hold back.

I nodded, breathless, unable to look away from the primal, aching hunger in her gaze.

"I'm yours," I whispered again, my heart pounding in my chest.

Something inside her snapped.

With a guttural snarl, she pounced, knocking me back onto the bed. The heat of her body burned through my clothes, through my skin, searing me from the inside out.

Her thighs caged me in as she straddled me, her hands braced on either side of my head. The air between us crackled, thick with anticipation.

Her fingers found the hem of my shirt. She didn’t pull it up—she ripped it clean in two.

I gasped, but she was already doing the same to her own, baring herself above me, her breath coming fast, eyes wild and wide.

I grinned up at her. "A little impatient, are we?"

She glared, eyes flashing gold, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

"What?" she demanded, voice rough, breathless.

I reached up, trailing my fingertips down her bare torso, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath soft, warm skin.

My first instinct was to make a smart-ass comment about whether it was hard to talk with fangs elongating from her gums, but instead, I settled on, “That was your shirt.”

Her eyes narrowed, a flash of warning before she leaned in, inhaling deep at the curve of my neck, her breath hot against my skin. “Yeah, so was mine. Guess we’ll need to go shopping.”

I scoffed. “Ugh, such a girl thing to say.”

She let out a low, rumbling chuckle, the sound vibrating against me. I resisted the instinct to hook my leg over her back, unsure how her wolf would react. She was holding herself together—barely. I wasn’t about to test the limits of that control, not when the hunger in her gaze told me she was barely restraining herself from taking me apart.

My bra, however, was still mine. And they weren’t cheap. I didn’t need it torn to shreds, even if it was by my mate.

So, I shifted, arching just enough to slip my hands under my back, fingers working fast to unhook the clasp. I pulled it free and flung it somewhere—anywhere—far from destruction.

Rylee went still.

Her pupils dilated, that golden gaze dragging over every newly exposed inch of my skin, slow and consuming. It felt like being branded by her eyes alone.

“Fuck…” I moaned, my body betraying me with need, but a tiny part of my brain still registered concern.

She felt it.

“You’re afraid,” she rumbled, voice thick as she lowered herself, her mouth parting as her tongue flicked out to taste me—a slow, wet drag from the base of my collarbone to the aching peak of my breast.

Her lips wrapped around my nipple, sucking, teasing, flicking, and when she let go with a soft, deliberate pop, I moaned again, my back arching into her like I had no say in the matter.

“Am not,” I choked out, the words barely a whisper.

Her smile was wicked, razor-edged with satisfaction. This wasn’t the nerdy chess geek who had come to my rescue that day at the barn.

This was the wolf.

And the wolf was going to ruin me.

She surged back up, capturing my mouth in a kiss so deep, so commanding, that my bones melted beneath her. Her hips pressed into mine, moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm, the heat between us unbearable as she ground against me.

A slow, torturous roll of her body.

Another.

Every shift, every press of her against me sent fire racing through my veins.

I gasped against her lips, my fingers digging into her back, pulling her closer.

“Well,” she conceded, breathless, her lips brushing my throat, “maybe not now… with the way you’re moaning for me. But you were afraid.”

I opened my mouth to snap something back, but her teeth nipped the sensitive skin beneath my ear, then her tongue soothed the sting, and just like that, I was lost.

She dragged her mouth down my body, worshiping every inch with her lips and tongue, claiming me in ways words never could.

By the time she reached the waistband of my jeans, I was already drenched, aching, my fingers trembling in her hair.

She lifted her head, locking eyes with me, her expression so feral, so fucking hungry, that I nearly came from that alone.

"I want to taste you."

The words were a growl, dark and devastating.

I barely managed a nod, my body thrumming with need.

Her fingers moved with agonizing precision, popping the button, dragging the zipper down, her knuckles grazing me through the fabric just enough to make me whimper.

And fuck.

The last time she had tasted me⁠—

My breath stuttered.

I was already done for.

She exhaled hard, her eyes almost rolling back as she gripped my jeans and slowly, deliberately peeled them away.

Not ripped.

Controlled.

Torturous.

Calculated precision, just like her chess moves.

And that made it so much worse.

She stripped me bare, then shed her own clothing in record time, before spreading me open beneath her, her gaze dark and devouring.

The way she looked at me—like I was something sacred, something claimed⁠—

It nearly sent me over the edge before she even touched me.

And then she did.

The first stroke of her tongue against my clit sent my head slamming back against the pillows, my fingers fisting the sheets.

She was slow, deliberate, her tongue teasing and exploring, mapping me out inch by inch, coaxing me toward that edge only to pull me back at the last second.

I was shaking, writhing, her tongue relentless, her fingers slipping inside me in one smooth motion, stretching me, filling me.

My back arched as pleasure detonated through me, my hands gripping her hair, trying to pull her closer, needing more.

Needing everything.

She had me—completely, irrevocably—and she fucking knew it.

"Not yet," she murmured against my skin, the vibration of her voice sending another wave of heat straight to my core.

I whimpered, half pleading, half desperate. "Rylee⁠—"

She smirked, her fingers curling inside me just right, hitting that spot that made me see stars.

“I want you to come with me,” she rasped.

I was so close, the pressure building, cresting, about to break⁠—

“I can go more than once,” I managed, words slurring, brain short-circuiting. Fuck, I was proud of those six words.

Her low, satisfied hum sent a new pulse of wetness between my thighs.

"And you will."

The command in her voice—raw, possessive—made my breathing stutter and stop for a moment, my thighs trembling around her.

She kissed her way back up my body, until she was hovering above me again, straddling my hips.

Her fingers tangled with mine, guiding my hand between her legs, until I felt the heat of her, the wetness coating my fingertips.

“Pull me open.”

I obeyed, my pulse pounding, my breath uneven.

My eyes locked on the sight of her—bared, glistening, flushed and swollen with need.

And fuck.

She was mine.

She mirrored my movements, fingers spreading me open as she lowered herself, our bodies fitting together in perfect alignment—clit to clit. Her gasping hole hovering over mine, almost suctioning together as she moved.

The contact sent a shockwave through me, a raw, primal heat, the wet friction pulling a moan from deep in my chest.

"Oh god," I gasped, hips jerking up to meet hers, desperate for more.

Rylee's growl vibrated through me as she set a rhythm, rolling her hips in slow, devastating waves. The friction was exquisite, every brush of her against me sending fire curling up my spine, winding me tighter and tighter.

She felt it too—I could see it in her face, in the way her lips parted, her breath coming sharp and uneven, her body trembling with restraint.

I matched her movements, finding the rhythm, falling into sync with her, our bodies moving together like they were made for this, for each other.

It was intoxicating.

It was madness.

It was mating.

Every grind, every slick press of our clits together was too much and not enough, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

The need to be completely hers took hold, a deep, instinctual ache I couldn’t fight. I arched my neck, offering her my most vulnerable spot.

It felt silly—like I was luring in a vampire—but the reaction was instant.

Rylee snarled low in her throat, the sound vibrating through my entire body as she leaned down, lips brushing my skin, her breath hot, unsteady.

"You're mine," she whispered, voice rough, claiming, sacred.

Her teeth grazed the soft curve where my neck met my shoulder—a warning, a promise.

"Forever," she growled.

Then she bit down.

Her sharp canines pierced through my skin, a sharp, intoxicating pain that sent my body rocketing over the edge.

The bite unleashed something inside me, something primal and untamed.

Pleasure tore through me, a tidal wave of euphoria so overwhelming that I screamed her name, body shuddering violently beneath hers.

Our breath, our hearts, our pleasure…

It was mirrored.

All mine.

All hers.

Together. Ours.

The bond snapped into place, a golden thread weaving through my soul, tying us together in a way that was deeper than skin, deeper than anything.

My mind flashed—dozens of wolves, distant howls, a flicker of warning⁠—

They were coming.

But I was cumming.

The sensation crashed over me again, stars bursting behind my eyelids, my body writhing as she fucked me through the aftershocks.

Rylee followed close behind, her hips grinding harder, her body convulsing as she came with a ragged snarl, riding out the waves until the pleasure had wrung us both dry.

The suction between us kept the pulses going, kept the pleasure stretching longer, until we were nothing but trembling limbs and gasping breaths.

As the heat of our climax ebbed into soft, aching aftershocks, Rylee licked the wound on my neck, her tongue soothing, sealing, claiming.

I felt the change settle into place.

The connection between us deepened, a living, breathing thing that pulsed with warmth, with certainty, with eternity.

She collapsed on top of me, her body hot and sated, her breath warm against my skin. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, grounding us both in the afterglow.

"You're mine," Rylee whispered again, voice thick with emotion and exhaustion.

"I'm yours," I murmured back, my heart swelling so much it felt too big for my chest. "Forever."

Then, because I just couldn’t help myself, I smirked and muttered, “I should write a telenovela of my own.” I raised my hand, waving dramatically. “Real Tales of the Pack.”

She lifted her head just enough to give me a look, one brow arching. “That sounds like something that would air directly after one of those ‘Really Old Aliens’ shows on a channel no one watches at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday.”

I blinked at her, then grinned. "That was oddly specific."

She yawned against my sweaty, overheated skin, fangs brushing my shoulder before she pressed a lazy, lingering kiss to the spot.

I ran slow, absentminded fingers down her spine, still relishing the way her skin felt against mine. “2 a.m. is 2 p.m. somewhere. Maybe I’ll be a hit on some little island on the other side of the world.”

She let out a soft, tired huff. “Where they don’t get cable?”

Her voice was already slurring with sleep, her body boneless against mine.

I grinned. “Tired so soon? What about those multiple orgasms you promised me? Is that a werewolf myth busted? You can’t go all night?”

She yawned again, burying her face between my boobs in a way that would have been insufferably adorable if I wasn’t still aching for more.

“Not after mating,” she mumbled, nestling in even closer, her nose brushing my skin. “That takes a lot.”

“Uh-huh. The big bad wolf is all huff and puffed out.” I grinned, tracing lazy circles over her shoulders and back, utterly content.

She blew out a breath, which I thought was her response⁠—

Until the snoring started.

I froze.

Then bit my lip.

My big, bad wolf mate snored.

And it was adorable.

CHAPTER 11

I woke to sunlight streaming through the windows and the most delicious ache curling through my muscles.

For a moment, I just lay there, basking in the warmth, the scent of her, the lingering hum of the bond. My hand drifted to my neck, fingers brushing over the slightly raised marks of Rylee’s claiming bite.

Everything felt golden.

The rays of the sun. The hue of the morning. My mate’s eyes...

"Morning," Rylee murmured against my shoulder, her lips brushing over my skin in a lazy, lingering kiss.

A soft, sleepy shiver ran down my spine. "Mmm."

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice husky, thick with the remnants of sleep and last night.

I grinned, stretching like a cat beneath her. "Like I got ravished by a wolf."

Her chuckle was warm, rolling through my body. “Good. Because you did."

I turned to face her, smirking. "Also, you snore."

She propped herself up on an elbow, looking adorably offended. "I do not."

"You absolutely do." I snuggled closer, pressing my nose to her collarbone, feeling the way her body curved automatically around mine. "It's cute though—like tiny puppy snuffles."

Her mock glare was ruined by the twitch of her lips. "I’m beginning to regret giving you that key already."

"Too late." I grinned, tilting my chin up for a kiss she lazily granted me. "You're stuck with me now."

She made a low, considering noise, her fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns on my hip. "Mmm, I suppose I'll survive somehow."

The touch was gentle. Too gentle.

Her hesitation didn’t match the teasing lilt in her voice.

"Did you… see anything?" she asked quietly, fingers still mapping idle circles against my skin. "When I was biting you?"

I stilled.

The memory of the vision slammed into me, vivid and undeniable. It had only there a moment, but I remembered the feeling of anticipation and not a small bit of fear.

"I did," I admitted. "It was strange—I saw the clinic, but behind it, coming from the woods, there were wolves I mostly didn’t recognize. Dozens of them, moving across the field."

Her fingers paused on my hip.

I hesitated, then added, "One of them was that red wolf I saw before—the one who had the silver collar when she first arrived. Olivia took it off of her up at the main house. But in my vision, she was free."

Rylee went completely still.

“I thought so,” she murmured.

I frowned. "Thought what?"

Her teeth tugged her lower lip, and I recognized the look. She was calculating, reading the board, deciding how much to say.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Rylee."

She cracked.

“Olivia had the same thing happen," she admitted. "A vision when she and Naomi…”

Her face flushed.

I grinned. "Did the damn thing?"

She rolled her eyes but nodded. "Yeah, that."

Somehow, that made my stomach flip harder than the vision itself.

"Some mates see things during the claiming," she said carefully. "It's nothing to worry about. I was just curious if you had."

I opened my mouth. Because I had more questions.

But—

"Nothing to worry about," she repeated firmly, then kissed me before I could argue.

And fuck if that wasn’t a dirty move.

I melted into it, the sensation of her lips, her tongue, the way her fingers tightened on my hip⁠—

My stomach growled loudly, ruining the moment.

Rylee laughed against my lips, pulling back just enough to smirk. "Now, how about breakfast?" she suggested. "I seem to remember someone promising me never-ending burritos."

I squinted. "I never promised that."

"You totally did." She grinned, sitting up and stretching, gloriously naked in the morning light.

The warmth immediately left my body, and I reached out, looping an arm around her waist, trying to tug her back under the blankets.

"Nope," she batted my hands away, grinning. "Up. We have to eat and check on Luna."

I groaned, rolling onto my stomach and kicking my feet into the air like a petulant child.

“I don’t wanna,” I whined into the pillows.

“But you gotta.”

She kissed my bare ass cheek, then spanked me.

I yelped, my hips jerking instinctively.

Her chuckle was wicked, and before I could react⁠—

Another sharp slap.

A shiver raced down my spine, desire pooling low and hot.

I arched slightly, breath hitching. “I don’t wanna,” I tried again, but the words came out shakier.

She spanked me again, harder this time—just enough that I felt the power of the wolf behind it.

A sharp moan slipped past my lips, my hips pressing into the mattress.

Her breath was hot against my ear.

"But we have to."

Another smack.

"Puppy comes first."

The dominance in her voice, the way my body reacted to it, the ache between my thighs sharpening⁠—

She let me feel it, the raw strength of her, the power of my supernatural mate underneath all that teasing.

I whimpered, legs clenching, face half-buried in the pillows.

Then—

Another slap, and my hips dropped flat against the bed, a wrecked moan spilling from my lips.

"Up."

I rolled back over, pouting for real as my ass stung against the comforter.

“I won’t forget this unjust punishment.”

"Of course not. That was the point.”

She smiled that soft, knowing smile, the one that made my heart flip like a damn acrobat.

“Plus, you never let anything go. It’s one of the things I love about you."

My pout morphed into a smirk. “Along with my amazing burrito-making skills?”

"Among other things."

Her eyes darkened, gaze drifting over my body with an intensity that sent heat curling low in my stomach.

"Though we should probably get dressed before cooking." Her voice dropped, sultry and full of promise. "Otherwise, we might never make it to the kitchen."

I laughed, stretching beneath her gaze, just to tease. "Speaking of which, you owe me a new shirt."

Her lips brushed my shoulder, a kiss just soft enough to be frustrating.

"I'll buy you a whole wardrobe," she murmured, pulling me to my feet, her fingers lingering on my hips. "But first, let’s check on Luna."

The mention of our tiny patient sobered me.

"Right." I sighed, scanning the room. "Just let me find something to wear that isn’t in shreds."

Ten minutes later, dressed in more borrowed clothes that smelled deliciously like Rylee, we headed for the clinic.

The morning air was crisp and clean, and something about it felt… sharper. Colors seemed brighter. The scent of pine, damp earth, and Rylee beside me was overwhelming in a way that felt new.

I inhaled deeply. "Is it just me, or does everything seem... more?"

She glanced over, smiling knowingly.

"The mate bond," she explained. "It enhances your senses a bit. Not to wolf levels, but more than human normal."

I grinned, flexing a bicep. "Cool. Does this mean I get super strength too? Because that would make moving medical supplies way easier."

"Big dog restraining strength?" she snorted.

"Exactly."

Her laugh was soft, but she tilted her head, considering.

"Not super strength, no," she said, a teasing glint in her eyes. "But... you might find you heal a bit faster now."

I wiggled my brows. "Handy for when you get carried away with those smacks."

I bumped her shoulder playfully, but the way her gaze darkened sent a shiver racing down my spine.

Her growl was low and promising, her fingers twitching at her sides, as if she was debating whether to test that theory right now.

Before she could, the clinic door creaked open, and Olivia’s voice greeted us.

Luna was awake.

And wagging her tiny tail.

"Look who's feeling better," I cooed, kneeling beside a makeshift pen Olivia had erected on the floor and scratching behind her ears. She leaned into my touch, giving a happy little whine, her tiny body shivering with excitement.

"Her vitals are much stronger," Olivia reported, but the mischief in her expression made me immediately suspicious.

Then she smirked. "Though not as strong as that mate bond I’m sensing."

I froze.

Rylee just smirked, smug as hell.

I cleared my throat. "Is it that obvious?"

Olivia arched a brow, gesturing to my outfit. "Honey, you’re practically glowing. Plus, you’re wearing Rylee’s clothes. Again."

I mumbled something unintelligible, focusing intently on Luna to hide my blush.

"Mine got... damaged."

"Uh-huh." Olivia’s tone was drenched in amusement.

Rylee, the traitor, was grinning.

"Well," Olivia continued, still smirking, "congratulations, you two. Now, how about you take over here while I grab some coffee?"

As she left, I exhaled hard, running a hand through my hair. “You don’t think she heard us do you? The main house is so far away.”

Rylee wrapped her arms around me from behind, resting her chin on my shoulder as she watched me check Luna’s IV line.

"Oh, definitely," she said, completely unbothered. “You were screaming loud enough that the little one here probably heard you at one point.”

I huffed, still pretending to focus as Luna tried to catch my fingers with her tiny teeth.

"You know," Rylee said softly, her lips just brushing my ear, "you’re amazing with her."

"She makes it easy."

Luna’s small body wiggled, tail thumping weakly as I ran my fingers through her fur. "She’s a fighter."

"Like someone else I know."

I turned in her arms, ready with a witty comeback⁠—

But the look in her eyes stole the words right from my mouth.

All the teasing, all the playfulness—it was still there, but beneath it, deeper, was something raw, something fierce, something entirely hers.

She looked at me like I hung the damn moon.

And it wrecked me.

I kissed her.

Soft and slow, letting the moment stretch between us, letting the warmth sink into my bones.

Her arms tightened, one hand sliding up my spine, fingers threading into my hair, deepening it just enough to remind me of everything that had happened last night.

A high-pitched yip broke us apart, snapping us back to reality.

I blinked, turning back to our tiny, judgmental audience.

Luna yipped again, as if demanding we get our priorities straight.

Rylee’s laugh rumbled through me.

"Okay, okay," I grinned, turning back to Luna. “Puppy first, then breakfast for real this time, and then kisses."

She tilted her head, pretending to consider. "Promise?"

"That I will always feed you before kissing you? No."

I smirked, leaning in just enough to let my lips brush hers teasingly.

"There will definitely be kisses before burritos."

Before Rylee could respond⁠—

The sharp tap of boots on the clinic floor cut through the moment, pulling our attention to the doorway.

Casey stood there, arms crossed, expression equal parts amused and apologetic. Her eyes flicked to my neck, then back to my face, one brow arched.

I shrugged.

"Sorry to interrupt the honeymoon phase," she said, smirking, "but Lydia’s called a pack meeting. Ten minutes."

Beside me, Rylee tensed just slightly.

"About the hunters?" she asked, voice clipped.

At the same time, I asked, “Ten minutes until the meeting, or is the meeting ten minutes? Because we can’t leave Luna for long.”

Casey just nodded vaguely, confirming absolutely nothing.

Her gaze dropped to the pup, then flicked back to me.

"You should come too."

I blinked. "Me?"

"You’re pack now."

Something warm and unfamiliar curled in my chest at those words.

Casey tilted her head toward Luna, who chose that exact moment to let out a long, noisy yawn, stretching her tiny paws before flopping back down, eyes already drifting shut.

“Looks like she’ll be fine for a few minutes," Casey said, before stepping back and calling over her shoulder, “Ten minutes, ladies. The pack doesn’t wait.”

The words settled deep in my chest, wrapping around something I hadn’t even realized was still raw.

I tried to play it cool.

"Does this mean I get a fancy pack jacket? Maybe with a big ‘P’ on the back?" I grinned. "Because I’ve got some design ideas."

Rylee groaned, but the bond between us thrummed with amusement.

"Don’t even."

“Don’t worry, she can’t sew to save her life,” a familiar voice added dryly.

I turned just in time to see Olivia stroll in, mug in one hand, a thick stack of unopened mail in the other.

I glared. "Rude. I’ll have you know my stitching is⁠—"

Olivia dropped the mail stack onto the table, and it promptly scattered.

I frowned. Every piece was addressed to the old office.

“What’s all that?” I asked, moving toward the pile.

Olivia sighed, eyeing it with visible disdain.

“My life for the next hour, at least." She rubbed her temple. "Who knew that a bunch of government-ish vandals burning down your office would result in so much paperwork? Insurance, investigation, investments, the bank…”

She yawned, shaking her head. "I would almost prefer to go to the meeting."

“You’re not?” Rylee asked, still scratching Luna’s ears.

"Nope. Naomi’s handling it. My job is more about bandaging up after the fight, not planning for it."

She plucked an especially stuffed envelope, inspected it with deep resentment, then dropped it with a dramatic sigh.

"Still, have fun."

I hesitated, glancing back at the paperwork.

“I can stay and help sort through those,” I offered, already shifting toward the exam table.

Olivia waved a hand. “It’s fine. I’ll manage the paperwork. Go. Be officially pack.”

Her smile was the same welcoming one she’d given me my first day on the job—steady, warm, unshakable.

I couldn’t help but grin wildly back at her.

Who would’ve thought?

Werewolves were real.

And I was fucking mated to one.

Together, my mate and I left my boss drowning in paperwork in our newly renovated barn-turned-clinic and stepped out onto the werewolf compound where I now lived.

To talk about a plan to save the world.

Okay, maybe that last part was a bit dramatic, but this was my world now. All of it.

And I’d do whatever it took to protect it.

The main house’s living room was already packed wall to wall with wolves—some human, some in their shifted forms. A low hum of uneasy conversation buzzed through the space.

Rylee kept a firm hand on my lower back, guiding me toward a spot near the back as Lydia took her place at the front.

She didn’t waste time.

"We have confirmation," Lydia began, her voice steady, no preamble, "that the hunters are regrouping. Their losses have made them desperate, which makes them dangerous.

A ripple of low growls swept through the room.

Lydia’s gaze swept over us all, controlled but sharp.

"There also appears to be some sort of timeline in play, but until Jayne and Princess return, we don’t have details."

I found myself scanning the room, my eyes skimming over faces, over forms.

Something tugged at my memory, something just out of reach.

"We’ll need to be ready," Lydia continued. "Our numbers are strong, but⁠—"

"There’ll be more," I blurted out.

A beat of silence.

Then dozens of heads turned toward me at once.

Fuck.

Heat flooded my face, and I instantly wished I could sink through the floorboards.

Lydia’s eyes flicked to Rylee first, her expression unreadable, before settling on me.

"What did you say?"

I swallowed. Too late to back out now.

I glanced at Rylee, who gave me a slow, grave nod.

I exhaled, forcing my voice steady. "During the... when we..."

I gestured vaguely at my marked neck, and a few knowing chuckles rumbled through the room.

Great. They were entertained. I was dying.

"I saw wolves," I said quickly. "Maybe three or four dozen, heading this way. Across the field by the clinic."

Lydia’s expression didn’t change, but the room reacted.

A ripple of murmurs and exchanged glances swept through the wolves, tension shifting like a current.

"A vision?" Lydia asked, voice calm but weighted.

I nodded. "I guess? Those happen, right?"

She was quiet for a long moment. Then, to my shock, she smiled slightly. "Yes, they do."

Her voice carried through the room, steady and sure.

"When the Goddess blesses a mated pair, she sometimes leaves one or both with something to help them. What you saw fits with what we've heard."

Her eyes swept the gathered pack, assessing, measuring.

"And that brings me to the next point," she continued. "It appears we may be receiving... reinforcements soon. Another Alpha may be coming to discuss plans."

The murmurs turned uneasy, some voices tipping toward outright dissent.

Lydia lifted a hand, and silence fell instantly. "I have no reason to believe this Alpha means us harm," she said. "But we will take precautions. Be advised—no one is to take action against her pack unless told to do so by myself or Naomi. They are to be treated as guests and equals while they are here."

A few low grumbles met her words, but she pressed on.

"They are like you. None of us here happily chose to leave our birth packs." Her gaze scanned the room, sharp as a blade. "And you don’t know what made the choice for them—just like they don’t know what forced yours. Be kind and polite. Be respectful. But also, be watchful. If you see anything that makes you feel anything but neutral toward them, report it immediately. I will handle it with their Alpha. Is that clear?"

There was a pause.

Then, one by one, wolves nodded, grunted their agreement, or gave Lydia a steady look.

Something about the way she said it made me think she already knew exactly who this Alpha was. Before I could linger on that thought, Lydia moved on, diving into patrol schedules and security measures.

Rylee’s fingers squeezed mine.

"You okay?" she murmured.

I leaned into her, taking comfort in her solid presence.

"Yeah," I admitted. "Just... this is really happening, isn’t it? The fight, the pack, all of it?"

Her brow furrowed slightly. "Second thoughts?"

"No."

I turned to face her, making sure she could see the truth in my eyes.

"No second thoughts. Just... processing.” I paused before whispering lowly, “Also wondering if pack meetings come with complimentary snacks, because I’m starving."

Rylee’s quiet laugh turned a few heads, but the glances were warm, accepting.

Like I belonged.

Maybe I did.

"After this," Rylee whispered, her breath warm against my ear, "I’ll make you those burritos myself."

I arched a brow. "Promise?"

Her grin was slow, teasing. "With extra cheese."

I sighed dramatically, leaning into her, entirely content.

"Now that," I murmured, "is true good girl mate behavior."

CHAPTER 12

"Checkmate."

I stared at the board. Then at my mate, who was trying—and failing—to hide her smug grin.

"How did you... I was watching for that!"

"You were watching the wrong pieces," Rylee said, reaching across the makeshift chess table we’d set up in Luna’s recovery room.

Her fingers brushed mine, but her eyes never left the board—sharp, calculating.

"You got distracted by my queen and missed my knight."

Sneaky wolf.

I muttered something unrepeatable, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips.

Instead of capturing my king, she captured my hand, fingers curling around mine. A steady pulse of contentment flowed through our bond, matching the golden evening light streaming through the clinic windows.

Luna, now strong enough to wobble around her pen, let out a high-pitched yip—which I chose to interpret as support.

"See?" I grinned. "Even the pup knows you’re being sneaky."

"The pup," Rylee said primly, "appreciates good strategy. Don't you, Luna?"

Another yip.

This one was definitely more on her side.

Traitor.

"You’ve turned her against me," I huffed, standing to check Luna’s dinner bowl. "And after I snuck her extra treats."

"Speaking of treats..."

Rylee’s voice shifted to that innocent tone that always meant trouble.

I turned, suspicious.

Just in time to catch the small box she tossed my way. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a single chocolate-covered strawberry.

I gasped. "You didn’t."

Her grin was wicked.

"I did." She leaned back, arms crossed, radiating smug satisfaction.

"Figured it was time to face my fears."

I narrowed my eyes. "Your fears of me feeding these to other wolves?"

"My fears of you trying to seduce the entire pack with cocoa-flavored fruit. I thought I better get you one first.”

I plucked the strawberry from its wrapping, making a slow, deliberate show of examining it.

"Well, since you went to all this trouble..."

I took a bite, letting out a deliberate, exaggerated moan.

"Oh my god, it’s perfect."

Her eyes flashed gold.

"You're perfect."

Smooth talker.

I held up the remaining half, offering it to her.

"Want a taste?"

She stood, closing the space between us in two strides.

But instead of taking the strawberry, she kissed me—Deep and thorough, until I forgot about everything else. By the time we broke apart, I was breathless, flushed, grinning.

Luna made a loud, dramatic gagging noise from her pen.

I snorted. "Everyone’s a critic."

Rylee’s chuckle was warm, but before I could tease her further, she hooked an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against her.

"Mmm," she murmured against my lips, her tongue flicking out just enough to taste me. "I think chocolate-covered strawberries might be my new favorite flavor on you."

She kissed me again, lazier this time, like she had all night. "You are my everything," she whispered.

And as the sun set over our little clinic, casting golden light across the chess board, our tiny wolf patient, and my beautiful mate,

I knew she was right.

This was everything.

This was home.

Though…

I couldn’t help but add, "I still think we should get matching ‘P for Pack’ jackets."

Her groan was lost in my laughter as she kissed me again.

And somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled at the rising moon.

STAY IN TOUCH!

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GUILDED MOON

Three Packs

Two Alphas

One Second Chance

Coming Spring/Summer 2025

I PUT A SPELL ON YOU

A sign blinked into view, Kaz's Catastrophic Concoctions, and I pulled the brake cord. At least the universe hadn't decided to completely abandon me today.

The bus was already moving before my heels had even touched the pavement and I frowned, once more wishing for the power to exact some sort of petty revenge on the metal machine. I snorted a chuckle, privately wondering if my repressed anger was why the universe had decided to not give me any actual power. Maybe it was afraid of how I would use it.

Stepping up to the door of the shop, I noticed the outline of a black cat etched into the glass of the window. It was a sign that all potions and wines within would be Familiar brewed and certified. That worked perfectly for me. The idea of Familiar made wine, a brew that was more potent than the normal stuff, was exactly what I needed to get through the rest of the day. With that comforting knowledge in my brain, I pushed my way inside.

Like most potion shops, the inside smelled like an aged hippy, causing my nose to wrinkle up. Dim lighting and the absence of the pleasant background music you find in other stores finished the feel. I glanced at the rows and rows of shelves, but quickly decided I didn't want to waste time poking around at potions I couldn't afford or even use.

"Hello?" I called, walking up the counter. There was no bell, but there was an open, shadowy door leading somewhere... I rolled my eyes, assuming it was supposed to be cultivating the mysterious nature of the shop. I leaned over the counter, raising my voice a little. "Anyone here?"

I heard something that sounded distinctly like a hiss from behind the door, but there was no other movement. I rolled my eyes, time ticking away. It would be possible to go to the poor hamster's funeral without the powder I was here for, but I had really wanted that wine. I leaned over one last time, sucking in a breath to yell, when a sensation rushed over me, knocking the oxygen from my lungs. I coughed, pulling back from the counter as a woman walked through the backdoor.

"Can I help you?" She asked, arching a single, well sculpted eyebrow at me.

I struggled to breathe as though some invisible force had grabbed me by the throat. Looking towards her, my eyes darted this way and that until they finally met up with hers. The choking force vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and I braced myself against the counter, gasping for air. I continued to stare at her, feeling the power falling around her in waves. A Familiar. And a powerful one.

She shifted, one hip jutting out as a ledge for one of her hands that signaled she couldn't care less that I had been choking to death in front of her. "Need something? I am a little busy and..."

"Ghost Shroud Powder." I croaked out, rubbing at my still raw throat. "and some Witch Wine."

She smirked, turning to grab a few bottles from a glass display behind the counter. "Bad day?" Her hands worked quickly, mixing and casting spells over a flask meant for me.

My eyes followed the faint hourglass curve of her back as she stretched to reach the highest shelf before settling down to work. Had she really not felt anything? What was that? Distracted, I answered her, "Yeah. You could say that."

She turned back, and I noticed for the first time that her eyes weren't just dark; they were black. Inky wells that didn't even reflect my face back at me as she forcefully set down a small vial in one hand and my wine in the other. "$40.00"

I scowled, still not breaking eye contact. "For 2oz of powder and a tiny bottle of wine?"

She still hadn't released her fists from around my purchase and retracted them slowly back across the counter towards her. "Genuine Familiar made products. Look, I dunno what ghost you are looking for, but this shit will light them up brighter than a Speaker's visions."

"I am a Speaker." I cocked my chin into the air, trying to match her fuck all attitude. I don't know what it was, but I felt a very real urge to match her sass for sass. "It's for a funeral."

"Oh, well then, I'm sure the grieving family will understand paying a bit more to see grandma back in HD. Charge em extra little Witch. Or get your own Familiar to make you some. Either way, pay and leave or just leave. I don't care, but I have other things to do. "

My chest felt tight as my fingers marched across the counter nervously. I had no choice. I didn't have a Familiar to make the powder and with such short notice I couldn't hope to come across another shop on my way to the gig. "Fine." I reached down, pulling my wallet from my purse and praying that moths didn't fly out of its empty cash pocket. "Do you take card?"

"10% discount for cash." She pointed lazily at a sign telling me as much.

Familiar Love

A Spellbinding Lesbian Insta-Love

by Harmony Fuller

Available now on Amazon