Page 5

There’s no shame in her gaze—just curiosity and maybe a flicker of appreciation that stokes the fire already smoldering in my gut.

And that pisses me off as much as it turns me on.

I’m not used to being this exposed, not just physically but emotionally—laid bare before someone who looks at me like she sees all of it and isn’t afraid.

Vulnerable. That’s the word I don’t want to admit.

But here, now, under her gaze? I feel it. And I want her anyway.

Hank’s not with her. Probably for the best. The last thing I need right now is a damn goose with a hero complex while I’m fighting every part of myself not to close the distance between us.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

She crosses her arms. “That’s rich, coming from a man standing barefoot and naked in the woods.”

I don’t move. “It’s protected territory.”

She lifts her chin. “It’s McKinley land.”

“No, it’s Rawlings land. The McKinley’s lost it a long time ago. But it doesn’t matter, it’s not a damn tourist trap.”

Her gaze flicks to the stone. “You find what you were looking for?”

“Depends. You looking for a reason to rile me up today?”

Her lips curve into that maddening grin. “You’re already riled. I think you were born that way. I’m just here for the view.”

The tension’s thick between us—spiked with frustration, heat, and that damn pull I’ve been trying to ignore.

Her scent tangles in my lungs. Sweet. Wild.

Unmistakable. It lingers on the back of my tongue like dark honey and lightning.

I remember how she looked behind the counter—flushed, defiant, mouth ready to make trouble.

My wolf remembers, too. Every muscle in me tightens.

She’s always been fire—fierce, wild, untouchable.

But now she’s something else entirely. She’s not just heat, she’s gravity—pulling at me from the inside out, anchoring and destabilizing all at once.

The air around her hums with tension, her scent like smoke laced with something sweet and unshakable.

She doesn’t just spark desire—she reignites it.

Old want, buried deep, rises raw and reckless, threatening to rip through every wall I’ve built to keep it down.

My wolf stirs again.

Kate takes a slow step forward, glancing at the tracks and the gouge marks. “What do you think they were doing here?”

“Looking for something. Or leaving a message.”

She nods. “My family’s been feeling things beginning to unravel for a while. Old debts. Old feuds.”

“And old mistakes,” I say.

That earns me a glare. “Funny. You left town. We stayed. We kept this place running while you played soldier.”

I step in close, crowding her space. “My family, my pack bled for this town long before I left or put on this badge.”

She doesn’t flinch. “Then act like it.”

Silence stretches between us, thick as smoke. Her eyes flash, not afraid—never afraid—but sharp and daring, like she wants to see how close I’ll get before I burn. I should walk away. Hell, I should’ve never turned around. But I don’t.

My fingers twitch at my side, jaw tightening, every muscle locked against the urge to close that last inch between us. Even with the cold biting at my skin and every instinct screaming caution, she’s the only thing I feel warm near. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to reach for the heat.

I reach out and brush a leaf from her collar.

Slow. Deliberate. My fingers graze the fabric, then the heat of her neck just beneath.

Her breath catches, soft and sharp, and her eyes flick up to meet mine.

For a second, neither of us breathes. Her pulse jumps under my fingertips, and I feel her lean the tiniest bit toward me before she catches herself.

She doesn’t step back. Her breath is still shallow, pupils wide, lips parted like she’s holding back a dozen things she wants to say—or do.

My hand’s still hovering near her shoulder, close enough to feel the electricity rippling off her skin.

Gravity pulls me toward her, but her refusal to take that one defiant step devastates me. She could’ve pulled away.

She didn’t.

“You don’t want this,” I murmur.

Her voice drops to a whisper, thick with challenge. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

The space between us crackles like a live wire in a thunderstorm.

She’s warm—blazing, really—an anchor and a spark all at once.

She’s stubborn in a way that makes me want to press her up against the nearest tree just to see if she’d still talk back with my mouth on hers.

She’s too damn close, and every inch of her proximity makes it harder to breathe.

I want her. Not just physically—though every cell in my body is screaming for that—but wholly.

Viscerally. With a hunger I didn’t think still lived inside me.

A hunger I swore I’d buried in the deserts and dirt of places I left behind.

But she’s not a memory. She’s here. Real. And the pull is unbearable.

And the worst part? I think she knows it.

But the unfamiliar scent still lingers—low, like an echo fading into dark water.

It coils under the trees, hidden in bark and moss, waiting to be noticed again.

Whoever trespassed isn’t just curious—they’re patient.

Calculated. And still close enough to be a threat.

The feeling crawls up my spine, setting my teeth on edge.

This isn’t over.

Someone crossed sacred lines and marked the stone with intent. That’s not just disrespect—it’s provocation. And if they’re bold enough to do it once, they’ll do it again.

Soon.

“I need to finish the trail,” I say, pulling back. “Go home, Kate.”

She doesn’t move. “Don’t tell me what to do, Sheriff.”

I turn, biting back a smile I have no business feeling. The heat of her still clings to me like sunlight after the storm, and I can feel the pull of the wild rising again in my blood.

I don’t bother hiding it. The need to track, to protect, to move —it barrels through me like thunder, and this time I don’t resist.

The mist rolls up from the earth, swirling silver and thick as fog. My skin tingles, muscles stretching and contracting as the shift overtakes me. Lightning cracks in the distance—low and rolling—just as my bones vanish into fur.

When the fog clears, I’m wolf again, and I run.

Because whatever this is between us—this fire, this fight, this line we seem to be daring each other to cross? It’s only just getting started.