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“And now you’re doing it on purpose.” But I was smiling despite myself. “I should go. Thank you for… everything. Lunch, the lawyer, and not letting me have a complete breakdown on Morrison’s probably antique porch furniture.”

“My pleasure.” The way he said it made it sound like a promise. Or a threat. Or both.

“Right. Well.” I took another step back, even though my body seemed to want to do the opposite. “I should get back to my car. Process this whole six-month life derailment thing. Maybe panic-buy some houseplants.”

“Let me drive you back.” It wasn’t quite a command, but it wasn’t quite a request either.

“It’s literally two blocks,” I protested, but my feet weren’t moving away. “I can walk. The rain’s barely a drizzle now.”

“Kai.” Again, he said just my name, but it held weight. Like he’d been saying it for years instead of hours.

I should say no. I should definitely say no. But there was something in his eyes, something that made my scar warm and my resolve weaken. Something that felt dangerous and safe all at once.

“Fine.” I sighed, pretending I hadn’t already decided the moment he offered. “But no more cryptic comments aboutproperty values or mysterious opportunities. My conspiracy theory quota is full for the day.”

The drive back was quiet but not uncomfortable. The Mercedes’ engine purred softly, the heated seats worked their magic, and the rain created a cozy bubble around us. It felt intimate. Too intimate. Like we’d done this a hundred times before.

Marcus pulled up beside my car, but neither of us moved to get out. The silence stretched, filled with things I wasn’t ready to name.

“Thank you,” I said finally, my hand on the door handle. “For everything today. Even the parts that were…” I searched for the right word.

“More?” His smile was knowing.

“Overwhelming,” I corrected, but I was smiling too. “Though I’m still not convinced this isn’t all an elaborate setup to get me to join some weird small-town cult.”

“Not a cult.” His eyes caught mine, intense enough to make my breath catch. “Just Cedar Grove.”

“Right. Because that’s so much better.” I forced myself to open the door before I could do something stupid like ask him what he meant. Or worse, lean closer.

“Kai.” His voice stopped me halfway out of the car. When I looked back, his expression was softer than I’d seen it all day. “Welcome home.”

My scar tingled, a warm pulse that spread through my whole body. I needed to leave. Now. Before I started believing him.

“Goodbye, Marcus,” I managed and fled to my car before I could see his response.

In my rearview mirror, I watched him wait until I’d started my engine before pulling away. The gesture was protective. Possessive. Terrifying in how right it felt.

Six months, I thought, gripping the steering wheel. I just had to survive six months of this. Of them. Of him.

I was so screwed.

Chapter 7

STONE BROTHERS

Marcus stood at his office window in the historic Stone Building, the morning sun warming the century-old glass. From his second-floor sanctuary he had a perfect view of Cedar Grove’s town square spread beneath him like an offering. The room still held echoes of its past: hand-carved moldings, a massive stone fireplace, and floor-to-ceiling windows that had witnessed generations of Stone alphas watching over their territory.

But Marcus had eyes only for one figure, small and perfect in the morning light.

Kai.

His wolf surged forward at the sight, clawing at his control. The scent of honey and rain andminelingered in his nose, making his fangs itch beneath his gums. Nine years. Nine years they’d waited, watching from afar as their little mate grew into himself. And now here he was, finally in their territory, close enough to touch—to claim—and Marcus could barely contain himself.

He tracked every movement, drinking in details he’d been denied for too long. The way Kai’s delicate hands wrappedaround that pathetic excuse for lunch. How his throat worked when he swallowed, that slender neck begging for claiming bites. The slight curve of his spine as he leaned back, face tilted to the sun like a flower seeking warmth.

Marcus’ fingers traced the window glass, imagining the feel of Kai’s skin instead. His wolf howled with the need to protect, to possess, to provide. Their mate was too thin, those oversized clothes doing nothing to hide how small and vulnerable he was. Even from here, Marcus could see the shadows under his eyes, the slight tremor in his hands that spoke of too much caffeine and too little real food.

A child’s laugh drew Kai’s attention, and Marcus found himself leaning closer, pressing against the century-old glass. He watched as Kai called out to a little girl with untied shoelaces, his face softening with natural concern. Soon he had three children gathered around him, teaching them the bunny-ear method with infinite patience.

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