Page 9 of Craved by the Werewolf (Mystic Ridge Monster Mates #2)

THORNE

" P erfect! Just a little closer together," the photographer called out, gesturing for us to move. "We want to capture that natural chemistry." My arm brushed hers as we shifted, and the spark was instant—an echo of the kiss that neither of us acknowledged.

Two days since the Lookout. Two days since I'd felt her lips on mine, then pull away with talk of LA.

No calls. No texts. Just silence and the memory of her scent.

Now we stood shoulder to shoulder, playing our parts for the cameras while my wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, wanting to claim what it considered mine.

"Can I get a big smile?" A rapid series of electronic clicks followed as the camera captured multiple shots in succession.

Cameras flashing. Teenagers watching with barely contained excitement. Nothing natural about any of it. But I kept my expression neutral, my stance controlled. Haven House needed this. The fundraiser mattered. My discomfort didn't.

"Try to look like you don't want to murder the camera," Vala murmured beside me, her voice carrying just enough humor to take the edge off. But there was something different about her today—softer somehow, more genuine than the sharp-tongued radio host I was used to sparring with.

"This one's good," Lana Martin said from her spot near the Haven House sign, reviewing the shots on the photographer's digital display. "You both look natural."

"Natural," I repeated under my breath.

"As natural as a Greek statue," Vala said quietly, and when I glanced down at her, I caught the hint of a smile. "But a friendly Greek statue."

"I can be friendly."

"Evidence suggests otherwise," she said, but there was warmth in her voice that made something ease in my chest.

"Okay, let's try a few with the kids," the photographer suggested. "This is about community, after all."

The teenagers needed no encouragement. They swarmed around us with the kind of enthusiasm that only came from being the center of attention, and suddenly the formal photo shoot became something else entirely.

"Alpha Thorne!" Lily called out, nudging in next to me. "Is it true you can take down a rogue vampire with just one look?"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Who told you that?"

"Instagram," she said with absolute seriousness.

"Should I be worried you're trying to steal the spotlight in these photos?"

"Only if it gets me standing this close to you," I said, letting just enough of a smile tug at my mouth to make it clear I wasn't entirely joking.

Her fingers brushed my sleeve as she shifted, light as a whisper but enough to make my pulse spike. She gave a soft huff of amusement, the kind that made her eyes warm, and moved to stand beside me.

For half a second, our arms touched—an accident, maybe, but neither of us stepped away. That's when her scent pulled me in again. It slid under my skin before I could brace for it, sparking through my blood and making my wolf go still in the way it did when prey stepped into view.

The next hour revealed a side of Vala I'd never expected. Photo after photo, she was patient with the photographer's requests, gentle with the kids' teasing, and completely in her element talking about Haven House.

"You know," Lily said during a break between shots, "Vala's the one who convinced the Council to fund our art therapy program."

"Really?" I looked at Vala, who had gone slightly pink.

"It wasn't just me," she said quietly. "I just... asked the right questions at the meetings. Got people thinking about why creative expression matters for kids figuring out their newfound abilities."

"She fought for it for months," Theo added. "Did this whole series of interviews with art therapists and former Haven House kids. Made the Council look like jerks if they said no."

The photographer gestured for us to move closer together for another shot.

This time, when Vala placed her hand on my arm, there was nothing hesitant about it.

Her fingers lingered for a second too long, and my wolf caught the hesitation in her eyes—like she was wondering if the contact meant more than it should.

The touch was warm, natural, and my wolf practically purred at the contact.

"No one ever mentioned that," I said, low enough that only she could hear.

"It's not about me," she replied simply. "It's about them."

This wasn't just a cause she supported from a distance. This was like her family, her home, the place that had shaped the woman standing beside me. The realization settled into my chest like a weight.

"Okay, I think we have enough photos," Lana said after another few minutes. "Why don't you two do a quick Q&A session with the kids? They've been working on questions all week."

The Q&A session was easier, somehow. Vala slipped into her radio persona effortlessly, asking the kids about their experiences at Haven House, letting them share their stories with the cameras. She was a natural with them, finding the balance between letting them be heard and keeping things light.

I found myself watching her more than I should have, noting how she remembered names and details from previous conversations, the gentle way she redirected when one of the teens started to get emotional talking about what Haven House had meant to them.

This was what she'd be leaving behind if she went to LA. These kids, this community.

The thought sat like a stone in my chest.

"Alpha Thorne?" Lily's voice broke through my brooding. "What would you say to people who think supernatural youth don't need special support?"

I refocused on the question, on the cameras, on anything except the way Vala was looking at me with those sharp, intelligent eyes.

"Every young person deserves a safe place to figure out who they are," I said. "For kids, that can be even more complicated. Haven House provides that space, along with mentorship from people who understand what they're going through."

"And what does House Party mean to you personally?

" This from Theo, who was clearly going for the hard-hitting journalism angle.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vala watching me—sharp gaze softened by something unspoken.

I didn't look back. If I did, everyone in the room would see exactly what I was thinking.

"It means making sure places like this can keep their doors open," I said simply. "It means these kids get to have what some of us take for granted—community, support, family."

Then Lily turned to Vala. "And what about you? What does Haven House mean to you?"

Vala's smile softened, and her voice dropped just enough that everyone leaned in. "It saved my life when I had nowhere else to go. Haven House taught me that belonging somewhere isn't about fitting in perfectly—it's about finding people who see you for who you are."

The kids hung on every word. So did I.

And then, because teenagers have zero survival instinct, Theo leaned forward with a smirk.

"So... when are you two getting married?"

There was a beat of stunned silence. Vala blinked. I felt my wolf go perfectly still.

From across the courtyard, Kai barked out a laugh. "I'll DJ."

"Next question," I said flatly, though my jaw might've ticked just enough for Vala to notice.

She shot me a look—half amused, half warning—and damn if that didn't make my wolf like the idea even more.

The Q&A session wrapped up a few minutes later, the photographer taking some final shots of us with the kids, all of us laughing at something Lily had said. For a moment, it felt almost normal. Natural.

Like we belonged together.

"I think that's everything," Lana said, consulting her tablet. "Thank you both so much. This is going to be wonderful publicity for Haven House and the House Party."

The kids started to disperse, heading back to their activities, and suddenly it was just me and Vala standing in the Haven House courtyard while the photographer packed up his equipment.

"That was fun," she said softly, adjusting her bag on her shoulder but making no move toward the parking lot. "The kids are... they're everything, aren't they?"

"They are." I watched her face as she looked back toward the building, noting the way her expression had gone soft, almost wistful. "This place means a lot to you."

"I was sixteen and living on the street. Lana found me one night and brought me here."

The confession shattered me. I'd known she'd been at Haven House, but I hadn't known the details. Hadn't realized how desperate her situation had been.

"It didn't matter to Lana that I had no powers, couldn't cast spells or see the future. I was just a scared kid with nowhere to go. But she said Haven House doesn't turn anyone away—that family isn't about what you are, it's about who you choose to become."

I felt something shift in my chest, a deeper understanding of the woman standing in front of me. She'd been an outsider among outsiders, accepted into a community that could have easily excluded her.

"I lived here for two years," she said, looking back toward the building with eyes that were suspiciously bright.

"Learned that being human in a supernatural world—wasn't something to hide from.

Lana and the other kids taught me that belonging somewhere isn't about fitting in perfectly.

It's about finding people who see you for who you are and choose to keep you anyway. "

I wanted to reach for her, to offer some kind of comfort, but something in her posture told me she wasn't finished.

"So yes," she said, finally looking up at me with eyes that were suspiciously bright, "this place means everything to me. These kids, this program, making sure no one else has to feel as alone as I did—it's the most important thing I'll ever do. I'll never walk away from Haven House."

The words hung between us. "How will you manage LA and support Haven House at the same time?"

"I'll find a way."

I could see in her eyes that she meant what she said. "I know you will."

"I should head back to the station," she said, the moment broken. "Prep for tonight's show."

But this time, when I offered to walk her to her car, she shook her head.

"That's not necessary," she said, but there was no rejection in her voice. "I'm perfectly capable of walking fifty feet without an escort."

"I know you are." I fell into step beside her anyway, hyperaware of the space between us, and of the way her sleeve brushed mine again, a small contact that felt far more intimate than it should have and how easy it would be to reach out and touch her hand. "Doesn't mean I can't be polite."

She snorted softly. "You are very polite for a big scary alpha."

We walked to her car in silence, the weight of her confession settling between us. When we reached her car, she turned to face me, and for a moment, the walls she usually kept up were completely gone.

"Thank you," she said. "For doing this with me."

"It's important to you," I said, and meant it. "That makes it important to me."

Something shifted in her expression—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. For a moment, I thought she might say something more, might acknowledge what was building between us.

Instead, she looked down at her keys, and when she looked back up, some of her usual composure had returned.

"I'll see you Saturday," she said.

"I'll be there."

She got into her car, and I stepped back as she pulled out of the parking lot. But this time, as I watched her disappear, it wasn't just desire clawing at my chest.

It was something deeper. Something painful.