Page 3 of Falling for My Shifter Defender

Grace's lips press into a tight line, her reluctance to engage evident. But before she can pull Willow away, I sense Adrian approaching. His scent carries notes of authority and suspicion.

"Is there a problem, Eli?" His voice is all business, his eyes assessing the situation with cold precision.

Grace stiffens, recognizing the power in his stance. Her heart rate spikes—I can hear it, a frantic drumming that makes my wolf pace restlessly. She's terrified, but she lifts her chin, meeting Adrian's gaze.

"I apologize for the interruption," she says, her voice steadier than her pulse. "My sister wandered off."

Adrian's eyes narrow. "Staff aren't permitted to bring family members to events."

"I know." Grace swallows hard. "I'm not actually staff. I... borrowed the uniform."

Shit. I almost laugh despite the tension. She snuck in. My mate has balls.

"You infiltrated a private event," Adrian states flatly.

"I needed to find you." Grace's fingers twist in the fabric of her skirt. "Or—whoever's in charge of the sanctuary."

Adrian's posture shifts subtly. "Why?"

I watch as Grace struggles with herself, the battle between pride and necessity playing across her face. It's fascinating, this conflict—and it makes me curious. Who is this woman, and what is she running from?

"We need somewhere safe," she finally says, the words clearly costing her. "I heard... I heard there was a place being built. For people like Willow."

Adrian's gaze flicks to the child, reassessing. "And what exactly is your sister?"

"Half-shifter," Grace says, her voice dropping. "Wolf."

The pieces click into place. The girl's uncanny perception. The way she recognized what I was. The strange pull I felt toward her—not mate, but pack.

"Where are her parents?" Adrian asks, his tone softening almost imperceptibly.

Grace's jaw tightens. "Dead. Hunters."

The single word hangs in the air between us. I see Adrian's expression harden, memories of his own losses reflected in his eyes.

"Please," Grace adds, the word sounding foreign on her tongue. "We've been running for months. I just—I need to know if there's a place for her."

I can see it in the stiff set of her shoulders, the way her grip on Willow tightens—she's about to bolt. One wrong word from Adrian, and she'll disappear into the night. And something in me rebels at the thought of letting her walk away.

Before Adrian can respond, I step forward. "Let's talk outside," I say, keeping my voice low and calm. "No pressure. Just a conversation."

Grace's eyes meet mine, wary but desperate. Something flickers in her gaze—confusion, maybe, at the intensity with which I'm looking at her. The hesitation is brief, but then she exhales and nods.

"Adrian," I say, not looking away from Grace. "I've got this."

Chapter 2

Grace

The night air cools my flushed skin as we step outside, away from the suffocating opulence of the ballroom. My heart still hammers against my ribs—partly from being caught, partly from the intensity of the man walking beside me.

Eli Greystone. That's what the other man called him.

He moves with an easy confidence, tall and broad-shouldered in a way that should intimidate me but somehow doesn't. Moonlight catches in his tousled brown hair and highlights the strong line of his jaw, softened only slightly by the hint of stubble. When he glances down at me, his hazel eyes crinkle at the corners, warm and unexpectedly kind beneath stern brows. There's something about him—a steadiness, a quiet strength—that makes my usual wariness falter.

He leads us to a stone bench beneath strings of fairy lights, far enough from the main entrance that we won't be overheard but close enough that I can still map our escape route if needed. I keep Willow close, my hand firm on her shoulder even as she strains toward a cluster of fireflies dancing near the manicured hedges.

"You can let her explore a bit," Eli says, nodding toward the fireflies. "We're safe here."

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