Page 4 of Falling for My Shifter Stranger

I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Rhys. “Don’t start,” I warn him under my breath. “He’s not hurting anyone.”

Ryan doesn’t respond, but the tension in his jaw speaks volumes. After a long pause, he mutters, “Just be careful,” before turning on his heel and stalking off.

I let out a sigh, rubbing my temples. Dealing with Ryan is exhausting enough on a normal day; add a lone wolf and holiday stress to the mix, and it’s a miracle I haven’t lost my mind.

When I turn around, Rhys is hovering near the edge of the square, looking as out of place as ever. His hands are stuffed deep into the pockets of his battered jacket, his shoulders hunched against the cold. He watches the pack with a guarded expression, like he’s not sure whether he wants to join in or make a run for it.

I grab a coil of lights and make my way over to him, ignoring the little voice in my head that says I should leave him alone. He’s made it clear he doesn’t want my company, but something about him pulls at me—a thread I can’t stop unraveling.

“Hey,” I say, stopping a few feet away. “We could use some extra hands with the lights. Want to help?”

His silver-gray eyes flick to mine, unreadable. “I’m not much for decorating.”

“Neither is my brother, but that hasn’t stopped him from bossing everyone around,” I say lightly. “Come on, it’s just lights. No glitter or tinsel, I promise.”

A ghost of a smile tugs at his lips, so faint I almost miss it. “Fine,” he says after a long pause. “But only because you look like you’re about to drop those.”

I grin and hand him a coil of lights before he can change his mind. Together, we walk to the community building, where several pack members are already climbing ladders and draping garlands along the porch railings.

At first, Rhys keeps to the edges, his movements stiff and deliberate as he helps me untangle the lights. But as theafternoon wears on, I catch him starting to relax. He doesn’t say much, but he listens when I explain where the lights need to go, and he even helps Ryan secure the giant wreath over the front door without a single complaint.

“See?” I say, nudging him lightly as we step back to admire our work. “You’re a natural.”

He snorts softly. “Hardly.”

I reach for another strand of lights, brushing my fingers against his as I do. The contact is brief, accidental, but it sends a spark skittering up my arm. I glance at him, startled, and find him already looking at me, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, the world seems to tilt, the laughter and chatter around us fading into the background. There’s something in his eyes—something raw and vulnerable that tugs at my heart.

I clear my throat, breaking the spell. “Thanks for helping,” I say, my voice a little too bright. “We’re almost done with the lights.”

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t pull away, either. And for now, that’s enough.

As the afternoon winds down, I find him standing near the tree, his gaze fixed on the twinkling lights. He looks almost… peaceful. Like he belongs, even if he doesn’t believe it yet.

“Thank you,” I say, coming to stand beside him. “For helping out. It means a lot.”

He shrugs, but there’s a softness in his expression that wasn’t there before. “It wasn’t so bad.”

I smile, wrapping my arms around myself against the cold. “You should stick around. The holidays are just getting started, and there’s plenty more where this came from.”

He turns to look at me, his silver eyes catching the glow of the tree lights. For the first time, he doesn’t look like he’s on the verge of running. “We’ll see,” he says quietly.

And for the first time, I think he might mean it.

Chapter 3

Hannah

The scent of sugar and cinnamon fills the pack house, wrapping around me like the coziest of blankets. I glance around the kitchen, alive with the sounds of laughter and the excited chatter of pups. They’re everywhere—climbing on chairs, sneaking tastes of frosting, and trying (unsuccessfully) to outdo each other’s cookie designs. The counter is a rainbow of sprinkles and icing bowls, and the air hums with joy.

This—this is my favorite part of the holidays. It’s not just the decorations or the treats or the music; it’s moments like these, where the pack comes together and forgets, if only for a while, all the heavy burdens of life.

But I’d be lying if I said my attention was fully on the cookies tonight. I glance toward the doorway, where he’s standing, his broad frame almost blending into the shadows. Rhys hasn’t moved since he stepped inside, his silver-gray eyes scanning the chaos like he’s trying to solve a puzzle no one asked him to. He looks like a man caught between running and staying, and my wolf bristles with frustration.Mate. Pull him closer. Don’t let him go.

I take a deep breath, schooling my expression into something less… possessive. “Hey,” I call over the noise, waving him closer. “Don’t just stand there. Come help us decorate.”

He hesitates, his shoulders stiff as a board, but before he can escape back into the cold, a small pup with dark curls tugs on his jacket. The boy looks up at him, wide-eyed and hopeful. “Are you gonna help us?”

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