Page 40

Isleep like the dead.

Not just tired—spent. Wrung out and discarded by everything that’s happened. I don’t lie down in Ray’s bed; I collapse into it, boneless and silent, crushed beneath the weight I’ve been carrying.

Nothing pulls me back. Not the roar of drills or the staccato hammering echoing from the workshop. Not even the low thunder of engines that usually jolt me awake in panic. I’m submerged beneath it all, floating in the dark warmth of exhaustion. My body refuses to wake, and my mind doesn’t even try.

It’s close to midnight when Ray checks on me. I sense him more than see him. His quiet presence in the doorway stirs some level of awareness despite his careful, light steps. He’s gentle in a way I’ve learned to associate with him—something that still surprises me.

He doesn’t speak. Just pulls the sheets up with a soft touch and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice right at the shell of my ear. It sends a warm shiver through me, and I feel... safe. Protected. Not just from the world—but from him. From everything he’s capable of.

Because let’s be honest. I’m half-naked, in his bed, and completely at his mercy. I wouldn’t stop him if he made a move. Iknowthat. Iwanthim to want me—but he doesn’t even try.

He climbs into bed and lies beside me. He falls asleep, like holding space for me means more to him than feeding any need of his own. And barely aware, I think—God, that’s noble.Rare. That’s a man.

It’s not Ray who finally drags me back from unconsciousness. It’s the sound of my friends that wakes me.

Erica’s laugh is unmistakable—loud, crass, unapologetically full of life. Monica’s is softer, melodic, but they blend together into something familiar and beautiful. For a moment, it grates against the last threads of sleep—but then, I smile.

The sound reminds me of who I was before the chaos. Before blood and wolves and whatever the hell we’re tangled up in now.

I come fully awake in an empty bed and drag myself upright, then make my way to the railing. I look down into the kitchen, sunlight pouring through the windows. Golden and warm. The scent of fresh coffee and toasted bread hits me. It makes me realize how long it’s been since I felt like myself.

“I’ve missed this,” I say, leaning on the railing, watching my friends with quiet gratitude.

“What, being awake?” Erica teases, grinning up at me like she’s been waiting for the punchline since yesterday.

“The three of us. Together, you blonde, mess.” I smirk, letting the warmth in my chest rise. “Though—yeah, fair. I kinda earned the sarcasm,” I add, catching the time. “I practically slept through a whole day of my life.”

Monica shakes her head, her voice gentle and motherly.

“Don’t be hard on yourself, honey. After what you went through, it’s no wonder you crashed.”

“Yeah,” Erica mutters, barely hiding a smirk. “Not repeating my advice, though—I’m not in the mood to dodge flying objects.”

“What was it?” I ask. Monica gives her the kind of glare that could melt granite.

“Ride a lumberjack,” Erica says flatly, sighing like we’re the ones letting her down.

“You really are a mess.” I laugh, and it feels good. It feels real. “But you seem... different. Happier. Spill.”

Her eyes light up, mischief sparking in them.

“The boys came up with a plan about what to do with that creepy compound while you were out. They’re going to do something about it.”

My stomach tightens. There’s something more to this—I don’t know what, but I feel it.

“And?” I prompt.

“AndI’mplaying a pivotal role,” Erica says with a wide grin, completely unapologetic. “They’re planning to confront the guy behind that security firm. And guess who gets to distract the guards with her ‘sexy looks’?”

I blink. “Aren’t you scared?”

She sighs, already bracing for the argument she knows is coming.

“No, Stacy. I’m not scared. You saw me handle that wolf-shifter in New York.”

“I know,” I say, already heading for the stairs. “Just... don’t do anything until I talk to Ray.”