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Seren woke slowly to soft light creeping across the ceiling and the familiar sound of Threk's heavy footfalls outside her room.

"I've got plans today," he called through the closed door, his voice muffled. "Don't wait up. Try not to kill anyone."

The door clicked shut behind him.

She yawned and buried herself deeper into the blanket cocoon. The Hollow Moon didn't open until noon, and she planned to use the quiet to edit some photos she'd been putting off. Her laptop blinked sleepily from the desk.

But then-

Ding-dong.

She groaned. Probably Ana, forgetting her keys again.

But as she neared the door, the scent hit her through the tiny gap at the bottom - earthy pine, spice, and storm.

Hagan.

Her eyes narrowed as she flung the door open.

He stood there like a goddamn lost puppy, holding two takeaway cups and a paper bag that smelled suspiciously like her favourite croissants from the bakery on Sixth .

"Can I come in?"

"No."

He nodded, completely unfazed. "These are for you. I'll wait out here."

She stared at the bag.

Then snatched it and the coffee and shut the door in his face.

Of course. Of course, he would remember the first time he ever tried to feed her - stag meat from a fresh kill, which she'd refused flat-out.

He'd never made the mistake of forgetting that she was a vegetarian again .

In Vargrheim, feeding your mate wasn't just a nice gesture. It was a ritual. A declaration.

A promise.

"Who let you in?" she asked through the closed door.

"Threk," he said casually. "He passed me the code yesterday."

She scowled. "You two are getting too close."

Back inside, she sat down with her laptop but barely touched it. Her screen blurred, the croissant half-eaten in her hand.

Because he was still there.

She could feel him .

Moments later, her phone buzzed with a message.

Ana: There's a yummy wolf outside your door. You playing Red Riding Hood to the Big Bad Wolf now?

Seren: He brought pastries. I'm ignoring him.

Ana: Girl... if you don't eat him, I will.

Seren: YOU'RE NOT HELPING.

Ana: Helping who? I'm just admiring those glutes. Is it him ?

Seren: Him? You mean a certain clueless wolf with a name starting with H?.. Maybe.

Ana: I know another word starting with H...

Seren: Please don't.

Ana: Huge . I mean, did you see those glutes? That's not a man, that's a walking thirst trap. What is he packing under those jeans? Because damn.

Seren: ANA!

Ana: Oh yes. I forgot. You don't know, do you?

Seren: I swear to all the gods if you don't stop -

Ana: My poor little virgin. Tell you what. You get tired of him moping around outside, you call me. I'll give him something to do with those thighs...A proper workout...Raawr.

Seren: I am blocking you

Ana: Not the first time. You will change your mind in ten minutes like the last time.

When Seren finally opened the door to get to work, her blouse - a floaty crinkle boho top in muted blues and soft cream patterns -fluttered gently around her as she moved.

It cinched at the waist and framed her collarbones, the neckline loose enough to show a sliver of skin where her heartbeat fluttered beneath.

With it, she wore a pair of black leggings- the kind that clung like a second skin.

They hugged every curve of her backside, which had always been a point of fascination for a certain clueless wolf currently waiting outside with his latest offering.

Hagan's gaze flicked downward-brief, reverent-and she felt it like a caress as if his eyes had fingers and they were sliding slowly over the dip of her spine and the round curve of her arse. He fell into step beside her without a word, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Inside the Hollow Moon, he took a seat at the bar and ordered a Demonbrew .

Griff gave him a warning look from the back. Ryn narrowed her eyes like she was already planning to shank him with a straw. And Ana? Ana leaned across the counter, smiling wide, her ample cleavage on display.

"Well, hello muscles. Are you the dessert?" she purred, casting him a slow up-and-down look. "Because I'm counting carbs today, but I might make an exception."

Hagan blinked, startled.

Seren nearly dropped a tray.

He stayed the entire afternoon, watching. Just watching. Seren spent the rest of the afternoon pretending he wasn't there.

He stepped out a couple of hours later - just slipped away without a word.

Seren noticed immediately. The quiet absence of his gaze. The way the air didn't hum on her skin. Her eyes kept darting to the doorway against her will.

And then - he was back.

She barely had time to school her expression before he crossed the room, wordless and determined. He reached for her hand - his touch warm sparks swirling between their skin - and pulled her gently to his table in the corner.

Without a word, he sat her down and laid out the food in front of her .

The foil packet was still warm, the steam curling from the thermos lid. Spices she knew before tasting. Comfort she hadn't asked for. Care she didn't know what to do with.

He didn't speak.

He watched her as she brought the food to her mouth-silent, steady.

His gaze didn't waver.

Not even once.

There was something almost reverent in the way he tracked her movements, like every bite she took carved into his memory. Like he hadn't seen her eat in years and needed to catalogue every lift of her fingers, every chew, every flick of her tongue against her lips.

But it was more than that.

His gaze was hungry.

Not for the food.

For her.

Raw and scorching, like he wanted to devour her whole. Like the act of watching her eat was the only thing keeping him anchored.

Seren felt the heat rise in her cheeks, and her breath hitched slightly around the next bite. Her fingers trembled just a little, not from fear - but from the intensity in his eyes .

He looked like a man starving.

At a weak moment, she didn't know whether to run... Or open the cage.

With impeccable timing, Ana leaned in as she passed, stage-whispering toward Seren, "He brought lunch and glutes like that? Girl, you sure you don't want me to take him for a test drive first?"

Hagan blinked, startled. Seren nearly choked on her food.

When she finally finished for the day, he followed her home. But when they reached the building, she turned and stared him down.

"No."

"Seren-"

"No."

She opened the door, stepped inside, and looked at Threk.

"Don't let him in."

Threk just raised a hand. "Wasn't planning to."

Hagan remained outside.

The next day was the same. He brought her breakfast. He followed her to work and stayed at what had become "his table" like a silent sentinel .

He brought soft, golden flatbreads stuffed with crumbled cheese and herbs, wrapped in foil and still warm. The scent of toasted cumin and butter filled the pub before she even opened it.

The day after that, it was a neat little box of flaky, rolled bread wrapped around a medley of vegetables sautéed in warming spices, tied with twine and accompanied by a thermos of steaming tea fragrant with ginger and cardamom.

Once, he showed up with a brown paper bag, from which he pulled a box of tiny, perfectly formed triangles-crisp on the outside and warm within, filled with mashed potatoes and peas spiced with coriander, green chilli, and something that made her think of childhood.

Each meal was a memory. A peace offering. And every day, he offered it with the same quiet persistence.

He was a constant shadow. Silent. Steady. Watching her like she was the only thing he'd ever wanted.

When a group of rowdy shifters got a little too familiar with her during their third visit, Hagan's low growl made the glassware rattle.

Threk smirked. "Jealousy looks cute on you."

Griff loomed over. "Scare off any more paying customers and I'll bill you, pup."

But Hagan didn't leave .

Not even when Ryn walked by - stone-faced, black eyeliner flawless as always - and casually drew a finger across her neck while locking eyes with Hagan.

Or when she called out, deadpan, "You break her heart again, pretty boy, I'll break your jaw. With a spoon."

And Seren?

Secretly, when she was in her bed, Seren allowed herself to wonder whether she wanted to kiss him... or kill him.