Grace
The office phone rings for the third time in ten minutes, and I catch it before the second chime. "Whispering Pines Security, how can I help you?"
I listen to the caller, a young werewolf named Jamie who's having trouble with his patrol schedule. His voice is anxious, explaining that he's been double-booked for tonight—both on perimeter patrol and for a training session with newer recruits.
"Let me check the system," I say, pulling up the security company's schedule on the desktop computer. Four days into this job, and I'm already getting the hang of their scheduling software. "I see the conflict. Let me fix that for you."
I quickly reassign another available guard to the training session, making a note in the system. "You're all set, Jamie. You've got perimeter patrol tonight as originally planned, and we've moved someone else to handle the training."
His relief is palpable through the phone. "Thanks, Grace. You're a lifesaver."
I never thought I'd find comfort in answering phones and organizing files, but there's something satisfying about bringing order to chaos. Every report I file, every schedule I fix, every message I relay—it all helps keep the people who are building this sanctuary safe.
Theo emerges from his office, his broad frame filling the doorway. His expression is as stern as ever, but I've learned that's just his default. He nods toward my computer screen.
"Heard you fixed the scheduling conflict," he says, his voice gruff.
"Yes. I moved Liam to the training session since he's certified for that, and kept Jamie on patrol."
Theo studies me for a moment, then gives me a rare, approving nod. "Keep this up, and I might put you in charge of the office," he mutters, already turning to leave.
I try not to smile too obviously at what passes for high praise from the alpha.
I'm still not entirely comfortable around him—his intensity is intimidating—but I appreciate that he judges me on my work, not my species.
Being human in a supernatural security firm could have been awkward, but most of the shifters treat me with a professional respect I wasn't expecting.
The front door swings open, and Jake Mercer strolls in, sandy hair windblown and a half-eaten protein bar in hand. The security company's field coordinator has a perpetual smirk that somehow manages to be both irritating and charming.
"If it isn't our new gatekeeper," he says, leaning against my desk. "Got time to help a desperate man?"
I arch an eyebrow. "Depends on how desperate."
"I filed a report on those hikers we found camping too close to the north border last week. Theo says he never got it, but I swear I put it in the system." He gives me his best pleading look. "Help me find it before he makes me rewrite the whole thing?"
I roll my eyes but turn to my computer. "Name of the report?"
"North Border Incident, filed last Thursday."
A few keystrokes later, I've located his mistake. "You filed it under 'Border Patrol' instead of 'Civilian Contact.' That's why it didn't flag for Theo's review."
Jake groans. "The filing system in this place is impossible."
"It's actually very logical once you understand it," I say, unable to keep the hint of smugness from my voice as I reroute his report to the correct folder.
"You've been here four days," he points out.
"And I already understand the system better than you do." I hand him a printout of his report. "Here. Now Theo has it."
Jake takes the paper, his amber eyes twinkling with amusement. "Remind me never to get on your bad side." He gives me a mock salute before heading toward Theo's office.
I shake my head, but there's a smile tugging at my lips. For someone who's spent years avoiding connections, I'm starting to feel like I belong here—at least a little.
???
At lunch, I escape the office and find a quiet spot under a towering pine tree. The air is crisp with early autumn, and the distant sounds of construction—hammers, saws, and occasional shouts—create a strangely comforting backdrop. I unwrap my sandwich and check my phone.
There's a message from Willow's caretakers. My heart skips when I see they've attached a photo.
Willow grins at the camera, her cheeks streaked with blue paint and her small hands proudly holding up a pinecone covered in silver glitter. Her eyes are bright, her smile wide and uninhibited.
She looks happy.
Something warm and unfamiliar blooms in my chest—a fragile feeling I'm almost afraid to name. For the first time in so long, Willow doesn't look haunted or afraid. She looks like a normal seven-year-old, delighting in making a mess with arts and crafts.
I save the photo, then scroll through my messages. There's one from Eli, sent an hour ago:
Finishing up a meeting with Adrian. Want to have dinner tonight? Just us.
My pulse quickens as I remember our kiss from two nights ago. The way his hands cradled my face so gently, like I might shatter if he pressed too hard. The surprising softness of his lips against mine. The heat that had flared between us, so intense it scared me.
And then—nothing. No pressure. No expectation. He'd simply stepped back, wished me goodnight, and left me standing on the porch, breathless and confused.
I haven't known many men like Eli Greystone. Men who don't take what they want. Men who wait.
I type a response: Yes. I'd like that.
Three simple words that somehow feel monumental.
Leaning back against the rough bark of the pine tree, I let myself absorb the quiet moment.
The sun filtering through branches. The distant sounds of a sanctuary being built.
The lingering taste of my lunch. For the first time in years, I'm not scanning the horizon for threats.
I'm not calculating escape routes. I'm just.. . existing.
No—more than existing. I'm building something. A routine. A job. Relationships.
The thought should terrify me. Instead, I find myself wondering if staying might not be the mistake I've always assumed it would be. If maybe, instead of surviving day-to-day, I could build something real—for Willow, and maybe even for myself.
But doubt creeps in, as familiar as an old scar. What if I let my guard down and danger finds us again? What if I grow roots and lose everything? What if I trust Eli, trust this place, and it all falls apart?
I think about Eli's quiet strength. How he didn't tell me to stop being afraid—he just stood beside me, letting me figure things out at my own pace. How he gives Willow space to be herself, to ask questions about her shifter nature without making her feel different or strange.
I want to move forward, even if it scares me. And maybe the next step is to stop pretending I'm only here temporarily.
An idea forms, something I've been considering since I learned more about shifters. If Willow is going to grow up in this world, I need to understand it better. And maybe... maybe I need to see Eli as he truly is, too.
I finish my lunch, brush crumbs from my jeans, and head back to the office with a new sense of purpose.
???
By four o'clock, I've finished updating the patrol schedules for the next week and organized the incident reports from the weekend. The office is quiet, with Theo out on a site visit and most of the security team either on patrol or in training.
I pull out my phone and scroll to Jenna's contact. We met a few days ago at the Whispering Pines pack community center, and she'd given me her number "just in case." I hadn't planned on using it so soon, but here I am. My finger hovers over her name for a long moment before I finally press call.
The phone rings twice before her cheerful voice answers. "Hello?"
"Hi, Jenna." I clear my throat. "This is Grace Connelly. We met at the community center the other day."
"Grace! It's so nice to hear from you. How are you settling in?"
Her warmth catches me off guard. "Fine, thanks. I'm actually calling because..." I take a deep breath. "I'd like to enroll my sister in the elementary school. Willow."
The words hang in the air for a moment—a commitment I can't take back.
"That's wonderful!" Jenna's enthusiasm is genuine. "We'd love to have her join us. She's seven, right? Why don't we schedule a time for you and Willow to come tour the school? You can meet the teachers, see the classrooms, and we can talk about any specific needs she might have."
"I'd like that." My voice only trembles slightly.
We set up an appointment for tomorrow afternoon, and as I hang up the phone, I exhale slowly. My hands are shaking, but I feel... strong. Like I've just crossed an invisible line I've been afraid to approach for months.
I look around the office, at the maps and monitors and filing cabinets. At the space I've already made my own in just four days. And I realize something that stops me in my tracks:
I'm not just existing anymore. I'm building a life.
And I can't wait to tell Eli.