Page 8 of Bound to the Minotaur (Hillcrest Hollow Shifters #2)

She lingered in front of the candy display.

It wasn’t long—just a flicker of hesitation as she passed the shelf—but my eyes were trained to catch the smallest shifts.

Her gaze snagged on a bar of dark chocolate with sea salt, then moved on like it hadn’t.

But I saw the want there: quiet, reluctant.

Like she didn’t think she was allowed to want something small and sweet.

As she rounded the end of the aisle, I plucked the bar from the shelf and dropped it into the basket without a word. She didn’t notice—too wrapped in her own head, again. I wondered how long she’d lived like that—tiptoeing around her own desires like they were landmines.

When she gave me a faint, uncertain nod—her version of saying she was done—I made for the counter.

Her feet followed slowly. Avis, on the other hand, trotted straight up with the self-importance of royalty, snatched a bag of cat treats from a lower shelf, and added it to our pile with a proud mrrow .

I huffed but didn’t argue.

Luther stood behind the counter, his mouth already twitching with the start of a smile.

A vampire, older than me. Lean, sharp-featured, and always five seconds from saying something that made me want to break furniture.

“Good morning,” he said, his eyes not on me but on Kess.

“And you must be the reason this surly bastard has made two trips into town in one week.”

My jaw locked. I didn’t answer, but I sure as hell did my best to glare holes into the meddling bastard.

Kess, though, surprised me. She gave a small smile—not fake, but practiced—and rolled a shoulder like it didn’t matter.

“Just passing through. My car decided otherwise. Guess I needed a new start anyway, something far from the Big Apple.”

New start. The words rang through my chest like a low bell. She said it so easily, but I could feel the weight of it. A woman like her didn’t come this far to start over unless something was chasing her.

Luther nodded, his smile widening, but his eyes flicked to me with meaning behind the amusement. “Ah, I see. Well, you’re in good hands. This bull of a man here is as dependable as they come.”

The joke landed gently. Kess didn’t react—didn’t catch the hint—but I did. I shot him a glare so sharp, it could’ve cut steel. He lifted his hands in mock apology, that same damned smirk on his face.

The transaction couldn’t finish fast enough. While Kess gave the shop owner puzzled glances as she tried to figure out what he meant, I stuffed things into a bag as fast as my big hands allowed. “Let’s go,” I muttered, gathering the bags and stepping aside for Kess. “We’re done here.”

She followed me out, Avis twining around her boots and nearly tripping her as we stepped back into the pale daylight. The town had only gotten noisier in our absence—more eyes, more questions hanging in the air like storm clouds.

This time, I didn’t hesitate.

I braced the grocery bags in one arm and offered her the other.

She blinked, surprised, but took it. She was small beside me, her hand light and chilled from the store.

I guided her to the truck, waited while she reached for the door handle, then gave in to the instinct that had been gnawing at me since we got into town. Fuck, since I’d first laid eyes on her.

I helped her up.

Just a hand at her waist, lifting lightly, steadying her as she climbed into the passenger seat. She didn’t protest—maybe didn’t even notice. But I did. The curve of her waist burned against my skin, its shape imprinting itself onto my brain, etched in stone.

Avis leapt into her lap the second she settled, purring loudly, shamelessly begging for his prize.

I tossed the unopened bag of treats at him, and he batted it like a soccer ball, triumphant.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I could feel them.

The eyes. Peeking from the diner windows, from behind curtains, over porch railings. Watching her. Watching us .

My ears burned. My hands clenched the wheel.

Small towns were a curse. And the worst part?

A dangerous part of me… didn’t mind the attention.

Not with her sitting beside me. I wanted everyone to know that she was off-limits, that all those bachelors were shit out of luck.

She was mine . Mine the way Chardum’s single glance spoke about his Rosemary—his soulmate.

The way Kai’s eyes screamed mine whenever he looked at his Freya, the elusive lynx shifter who had finally settled down for him.

We drove out of the town center without speaking. The road sloped gently upward, winding back toward the shop, the cabin, the solitude I used to cherish. Pines blurred past in green-gray streaks, and, somewhere in the distance, a hawk called out once, sharp and piercing.

Home was just ahead.

And this time… I wouldn’t be walking into it alone. Too many parts of me liked that thought. It was a thought so powerful that it felt like it outweighed the sense of dread pulling in my gut. The warning of the danger that still clung to my fragile Kess with the backbone of steel.

The blue eyes glimmered like sapphires from behind her sleek glasses as she turned her gaze from the landscape to me. She looked calmer now, more at ease than when we were in town—almost as if she, too, appreciated the calmness of my home on the outskirts. The quiet of a home as isolated as mine.

Why did that make me feel like she belonged here, like I shouldn’t let her go at all?