Page 25 of Falling for My Shifter Defender

I laugh. "Not today. We're looking for some school clothes for Willow."

Marlene's eyes light up when she spots Willow. "Well, aren't you just the cutest thing! The children's section is in the back corner. We just got some new fall items in."

As Marlene leads them toward the children's section, she gives me a knowing look over her shoulder. My jaw tightens. I recognize that look—it's the same one Maya gives me whenever Grace's name comes up. Apparently, I'm more transparent than I thought.

Willow is already holding up shirt after shirt, seeking Grace's approval for each one. I hang back, content to watch as they move through the racks together. Grace's dark hair falls forward as she bends to help Willow with a button, and my fingers itch with the sudden, unexpected urge to brush it back from her face.

My wolf paces restlessly beneath my skin. The protective instinct that's always been part of me—the need to guard, to shelter—finds its focus in them. Not because they're weak, but because they matter. Because somehow, in the span of just a few weeks, they've become important to me in a way I didn't expect.

My wolf knows it. Has known it since they first stepped into our territory.

Mine to protect. Mine to care for.

This—quiet moments, laughter in colorful aisles, a child excited about new clothes—this is what we're building at the Sanctuary. Not just walls and wards and security systems. A life worth protecting. A future where families like Grace and Willow can simply exist without looking over their shoulders.

"What do you think?" Grace's voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I look up to see Willow twirling in a sparkly purple skirt that matches her backpack.

"Stunning," I say, and Willow beams. "You'll be the best-dressed kid in school."

"Can I get it?" she asks Grace, who nods with a soft smile.

"Yes, but only one skirt. We need practical things too."

As Grace helps Willow pick out a few more items, I wander through the store, stopping when something catches my eye. It's a soft, forest-green sweater that would complement Grace's warm brown eyes perfectly. Without overthinking it, I grab it in what I hope is her size, along with a few other small items I've noticed her eyeing or mentioning—a bottle of lavender lotion, a patterned scarf, and a paperback book I saw her looking at in the window of the bookstore earlier.

I'm at the register, paying for my purchases, when I feel Grace's presence behind me. Even before she speaks, I know it's her—her scent reaches me first, followed by the quiet sound of her breathing.

"What are you doing?" she asks, her voice low.

I turn, holding the bag. "Just picking up a few things."

Her eyes narrow. "For who?"

Before I can answer, Willow appears at her side, eyes widening as she spots the green sweater peeking out of the bag. "Is that for Grace? That would look so pretty on you!" She turns to Grace with a gleeful grin. "Please say yes?"

I lift a brow and murmur, "You heard the boss."

Grace rolls her eyes, but her cheeks flush a delicate pink. The color spreads down her neck, and my wolf watches with fascination. I wonder how far that blush extends.

She gives a reluctant nod. "Fine. But this doesn't count toward the loan."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I say, trying not to look too pleased with myself.

Our fingers brush as I hand her the bag, and the brief contact sends a jolt through my system. My wolf surges forward, hungry for more contact, and I have to consciously pull back.

We finish our shopping, and as we head back to the truck, I can't help but notice how different Grace looks compared to when we arrived. There's a lightness to her steps, a softness around her eyes that wasn't there before. She's still cautious—still scanning the street, still keeping Willow close—but she's also allowing herself small moments of joy.

"Thank you," she says quietly as we walk, the words so soft I almost miss them. "For today."

I glance at her, surprised. "You don't need to thank me."

"I know. That's...that's why I am." She doesn't meet my eyes, but the admission hangs between us, weighted with everything she's not saying.

My wolf preens at her acknowledgment, and I have to bite back a smile. "You're welcome."

Willow skips ahead of us, her new backpack bouncing against her shoulders, then glances back with a mischievous grin that immediately puts me on alert. That look reminds me of Maya when she's about to say something outrageous.

"You two should kiss," she announces with the blunt honesty only a child can muster. "You like each other."

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