Page 47 of Noah

Jackson chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ll make it up to you by letting you cook tomorrow.”

“Generous of you,” I said dryly, making him laugh.

We fell into comfortable conversation as we ate, the kind that felt easy and natural. But then Jackson set his fork down and gave me a thoughtful look.

“You planning on participating in the run, I mean the Hunt?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. I help oversee the event and handle the preparations, but I don’t actually compete.”

Jackson hummed, considering that. “That makes sense. But what if we went on a run? Just the two of us.”

I looked at him, caught off guard by the suggestion. “A run?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I want to shift with you. Just us. No summit, no packs, no responsibilities. Just running.”

The idea settled into my mind, and I found myself picturing it—our wolves moving in sync.

The world fading away as we ran through the forest together, no expectations, no pressure. Just us.

I liked the idea. A lot.

A slow smile pulled at my lips. “That sounds… perfect.”

Jackson grinned, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Then it’s a date.”

When we arrived at the pack lands together, walking side by side. I noticed the way some of my pack mates glanced at us, their curiosity clear.

Same with Jackson’s pack. It wasn’t surprising—we hadn’t exactly made a public announcement about whatever this was between us.

Dating? Courting? We were wrestling with something, that much was certain.

And honestly? I didn’t mind letting everyone know.

Sneaking around wasn’t ideal anyway, and if anything, I wanted them to see. I wanted them to understand that Jackson and I were… something real.

So when we reached the area behind the pack house, where the packs were gathered, I reached for Jackson’s hand.

He didn’t hesitate, threading his fingers through mine, his grip warm and steady. A few heads turned, but I ignored them. Let them see.

Eventually, though, we had to part. I was needed elsewhere, and so was he. But I was reluctant to let go, and judging by the way Jackson hesitated, he felt the same.

Still, duty called.

I made my way to one of the stations, where my pack mates were taking attendance for the Hunt.

Someone handed me a checklist, and I busied myself with marking names, grateful that at least I wasn’t responsible for Adrian’s pack.

That would have been a nightmare.

Griffin was nearby, talking to another pack mate about how this year’s event was different from the older version of the Hunt.

“Used to be about taking down the most prey animals,” Griffin said. “Now it’s just a race between shifters.”

I nodded in approval. “I think it makes the event more fun and lighter,” I added, checking off another name.

Griffin hummed in agreement.

But then, nearby, I overheard a voice that made my stomach tighten.

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