Page 9

"That's not true."

"Isn't it? The council wants to put magical restrictions on me. You think I need constant supervision. Even Nico talks to me like I'm a child playing with grown-up magic."

Cade paused, silence stretching between them, then moved to sit beside her on the steps. "Can I tell you something?"

"Depends on whether it's going to make me feel worse about myself."

"When I became alpha, I was twenty-seven years old and absolutely terrified," Cade said, his voice matter-of-fact.

"My father died in a car accident, and suddenly I was responsible for the safety and well-being of forty-three pack members.

I had no training, no preparation, and no idea what I was doing. "

Lyra looked at him sideways. "What happened?"

"I screwed up. A lot. Made decisions based on fear instead of wisdom.

Nearly got two pack members killed because I was too proud to ask for help.

" Cade's hands clenched into fists. "It took me three years to figure out that being strong enough to lead didn't mean being strong enough to do everything alone. "

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because power isn't about being perfect from day one. It's about being willing to learn, to adapt, to do whatever it takes to protect the people who depend on you." Cade turned to look at her directly. "Your magic chose you, Lyra. Not because you were prepared, but because you were capable."

Something warm unfurled in Lyra's chest at the unwavering belief in his voice. "You really believe that?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, until Lyra realized she was staring at the way afternoon sunlight caught the gold flecks in his green eyes. She cleared her throat and stood up quickly. "Right. Well. These floorboards aren't going to replace themselves."

"Actually, they might," Cade said, his tone lighter now. "I've seen some impressive household magic in this town."

"Please. I can barely make toast without setting off smoke alarms."

"That's just a matter of practice." Cade stood as well, and Lyra tried not to notice how close he was standing. "Magic responds to confidence as much as technique."

"Easy for you to say. You probably came out of the womb knowing how to control your wolf."

"Not even close." Cade's smile was rueful. "First time I shifted, I got stuck halfway for three hours. Had to have the pack healer come detangle me from my own transformation."

The mental image was so ridiculous that Lyra burst out laughing. "Seriously?"

"Scout's honor. My mother took pictures."

"Please tell me you still have them."

"Absolutely not. They're classified pack embarrassment."

Their laughter faded into something warmer, more connected, and Lyra found herself studying the way Cade's entire face changed when he smiled.

He looked younger, less burdened by alpha responsibilities, and she caught a glimpse of what he might have been like before duty and loss had taught him to carry the world on his shoulders.

"We should probably get back to work," she said, though she made no move to step away.

"Probably," Cade agreed, not moving either.

The afternoon heat was building, and after an hour of heavy lifting, Cade pulled off his flannel shirt and tossed it onto the porch railing.

Lyra tried very hard to focus on the lumber measurements she was supposed to be checking, but it was difficult to concentrate when her peripheral vision kept catching glimpses of broad shoulders and the kind of muscle definition that suggested he did more than just run through the forest for exercise.

"Hand me that level?" Cade asked, and Lyra reached for the tool without thinking.

Their fingers brushed as she passed it to him, and the contact sent a jolt of electricity up her arm that wasn’t due to her unstable magic. Cade felt it too—she could tell by the way his pupils dilated and his breathing changed.

"Thanks," he said, his voice rougher than it had been a moment before.

"No problem," Lyra managed, though her heart was beating fast enough to power the inn's electrical system.

They worked in increasingly charged silence for another hour, the air between them thick with awareness and the kind of tension that made every accidental touch feel significant.

Lyra found herself hyperaware of every movement he made, every shift in his breathing, every time his attention focused on her with the kind of intensity that felt like she was the most interesting thing in his world.

It was when he was positioning a replacement support beam that disaster struck.

The beam was heavier than expected, and when Cade adjusted his grip, a splinter of wood caught the edge of his palm and opened a gash that immediately started bleeding.

"Shit," he muttered, setting the beam down and examining the cut.

"Let me see," Lyra said, moving closer before she could think better of it.

Cade held out his hand, and Lyra found herself cradling his much larger palm in both of hers. The cut wasn't deep, but it was bleeding steadily, and she could feel the warmth of his skin against her fingers.

"It's not bad," she said, though she made no move to let go. "But it should be cleaned."

"I'll be fine. Wolf healing, remember?"

"Still." Lyra looked up to find Cade watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read. "I have a first aid kit inside."

They stood there for a moment, her hands wrapped around his, both of them acutely aware of the intimacy of the contact. Lyra could feel Cade's pulse under her fingertips, strong and steady, and when she looked up, his green eyes had gone dark with something that made her mouth go dry.

"Lyra," he said, her name coming out like a warning and a plea all at once.

That's when her magic decided to make its opinion known.

Power sparked through the space around them like visible electricity, drawn by their proximity and the emotional charge crackling in the air.

Lyra's phone, sitting on the porch railing, started buzzing frantically before the screen went completely black.

The inn's lights flickered in sequence, and somewhere inside, something that sounded like a smoke alarm started beeping.

They sprang apart as if they'd been burned, both of them breathing hard.

"Well," Lyra said, her voice shaky. "That's... new."

Cade was staring at his hand, where the cut had already stopped bleeding. "Your magic. It's..."

"Completely out of control around you," Lyra finished. "Yeah, I noticed."

"That's not what I was going to say."

"What were you going to say?"

Cade looked at her for a long moment, then seemed to think better of whatever he'd been about to reveal. "Nothing. We should get back to work."

But as they returned to their respective tasks, both of them carefully maintaining distance, an unshakable sense told her something fundamental had just shifted between them.

The forced proximity protocol might have brought them together, but what she'd felt when she touched him was entirely separate from magical necessity.

And from the way Cade kept glancing at her when he thought she wasn't looking, she suspected he'd felt it too.