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“Last time?” I backed up until I hit the shelf. “Pretty sure I’d remember meeting someone with your…” I gestured vaguely at his everything. “…whole intimidating aristocrat thing.”

“You were younger,” he murmured, reaching out to trace a finger along my jaw. “More… frightened. But this?” His eyes gleamed with something hungry. “This is so much better.”

I batted his hand away before I could think better of it. “Yeah, well, the customer service manual doesn’t cover whatever this is, so maybe we could stick to books?”

He laughed again, pure velvet over steel. “Defiant little wolf, aren’t you? The Stones have certainly let you develop some interesting habits.”

Before I could ask what the Stones had to do with my sparkling personality, he leaned in close, his breath ghosting over my ear. “When you remember,” he whispered, “and you will remember, I hope you keep this fire. Last time, all you could do was scream and run. Such a fun little game that was.”

Then he was gone, leaving nothing but expensive cologne and confused terror in his wake. The store seemed to collectively exhale.

“Kai!” Jane called out, her voice slightly higher than usual. “New shipment needs unpacking!”

I’d barely made it halfway to the stockroom when the store’s front door burst open. Marcus filled the doorway, every inch of his six-foot-three frame radiating barely contained fury. His eyes swept the store, nostrils flaring as if tracking something I couldn’t sense.

The Knox representatives practically tripped over themselves rushing to the exit. The Blackwood Literary Society woman smoothly gathered her things and vanished like smoke.But the rest of our customers—Mrs. Rivera’s group, Mrs. Chen’s group, the college guys, even Mr. Patterson—seemed to relax slightly, as if Marcus’ presence made them feel safer.

Jane stepped forward, murmuring something that sounded like, “He’s already gone, Alpha,” though that couldn’t be right.

Marcus crossed the store in four long strides, reaching me before I could process what was happening. His hands came up to frame my face, thumbs brushing along my jaw where James had touched me. A sound like distant thunder rumbled in his chest.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, eyes searching my face.

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to ignore how my pulse jumped at his proximity. “Though you might want to work on your dramatic entrances. That door’s antique.”

His expression softened slightly, but his hands stayed where they were. “He touched you.”

It wasn’t a question. I wasn’t sure how he knew, but then again, this was Cedar Grove, where everyone seemed to know everything about me except me.

“Yeah, well, personal space isn’t everyone’s strong suit around here,” I quipped, pointedly glancing at his hands still cradling my face.

That actually got a small smile from him, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He slowly lowered his hands but stayed closeenough that I had to tip my head back to meet his gaze. “You’ll tell me if he comes back.”

“Sure, I’ll add it to my daily report along with ‘mysterious fighters who quote Shakespeare’ and ‘weird comments about pure bloodlines.’ The list is getting pretty long.”

Mrs. Rivera’s and Mrs. Chen’s groups had resumed their discussion, though they kept shooting approving glances our way. Mr. Patterson had returned to his history books, looking satisfied. Even the college guys seemed to have relaxed back into their corner, though they maintained a respectful distance.

Marcus, however, remained tense, his eyes occasionally scanning the store as if searching for lingering threats. He stayed for the rest of my shift, pretending to work on his laptop while actually watching me like a hawk. It should have been unnerving, but somehow his presence felt more like a shield than a cage.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d missed something important. Something about James’ words. But that was crazy, right? I’d remember meeting someone like James Blackwood before.

Wouldn’t I?

Istared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, tugging at my outfit—dark fitted jeans that hugged in all the right places and a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows that somehow made me look both sophisticated and edible, if the brothers’ reactions over the past two weeks were anything to go by.

Scout lounged in the doorway, head tilted as he watched me fuss with my hair. For a dog, he had an unnervingly judgmental stare.

“Don’t give me that look,” I told him. “This is a perfectly normal amount of time to spend getting ready for a date. A date with three ridiculously hot brothers who’ve been driving me insane for the past two weeks, I might add.”

And they had been driving me insane. Ever since that day of serial kissing—Marcus in his car, Derek in the woods, and Caleb in my kitchen—they’d been playing some elaborate game of hot and cold that was going to give me emotional whiplash. One minute they’d be all intense stares and barely contained… something, the next they’d be practically throwing themselves backward like I had suddenly burst into flames.

It was both amusing and frustrating as hell. Mostly frustrating. Especially since my body seemed to have developed some sort of magnetic attraction to them that my brain couldn’t quite explain.

“At least I get to escape Maria’s dinner invasion tonight,” I mused, though Scout’s skeptical look suggested he knew better. For the past two weeks, I’d been practically force-fed at Stone Manor every single night. Maria had made it clear that my attendance wasn’t so much requested as required, usually with threats of personally coming to collect me if I dared skip a meal.

My fridge looked like a five-star restaurant had exploded inside it. Between Maria’s insistence that I was “too skinny” and Jorge’s determination to show off his culinary mastery, I hadn’t needed to cook or shop for anything beyond snacks and essentials. Jorge took personal pride in expanding my already decent palate—from classic Spanish paella to French coq au vin, English roasts to Italian risottos. The man could cook anything, and apparently, I had become his favorite taste-tester. Every time I left the manor, Maria somehow managed to slip anothercontainer of gourmet leftovers into my arms. I was pretty sure she had ninja training somewhere in her past.

The weekends were even more intense. Apparently, my plans of peaceful solitude were offensive to Maria’s maternal sensibilities. I was swept up into the manor’s routine, which felt more like home than the cottage ever had.

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