Page 4

RAY

L unch with the humans? Not happening. No way.

I don’t care what Raul or Sam say—I’m not going.

Let them argue, guilt-trip me, throw brotherly concern in my face.

It still won’t matter. I’ve been counting the hours until Stacy leaves this mountain.

I’m not about to sit across from her, force a smile, and pretend everything’s fine just because my brothers think my absence might hurt her feelings.

They don’t get it, and I do not give a shit if they do or don’t. As I leave Raul’s cabin, I hear the familiar rumble of my beast stirring beneath my skin. A low pulse builds in my gut—not for escape, but for space. For the wild. For air that hasn’t touched walls.

Let me out.

His voice isn’t words exactly, just instinct crashing through like a wave. He wants to run. To tear through trees, taste the wind, vanish into earth and scent and sky. It’s his nature.

I push the wolf down, though not cruelly. What I need is the opposite—stillness. Control. Space to think. We’re the same, him and I. He’s just louder when the world feels like it’s spinning off its axis.

My boots crunch against the dirt as I put distance between myself and the cabins, heading toward the woods where I’ve always been more at home than any building.

Sunlight flickers through the thick canopy in narrow slants, casting long shadows across the undergrowth.

A few golden beams punch through the green and paint soft halos over dead leaves, mossy rocks, patches of fern.

Cool air kisses my skin the moment I cross into the shade. The hush of the forest wraps around welcoming with its gentle quiet. Peace. Closing my eyes, I envision the tension draining from my body. Enjoying the air, I give myself a moment before putting my attention on my reason for coming.

I came to find her. The Witch of Crawford, Helena.

“She sneaks up on you when you least expect it.”

Sam’s voice echoes in my memory. He’s said that more than once, like some reverent mantra. He talks about Helena like she’s a living myth, a force of nature with lipstick and magic in her blood. He’s never tried to hide his awe and I don’t think he could if he wanted to.

My eyes scan the trees automatically, searching for her shape. That lean frame, that dark hair—Helena, the witch in black. The one who saved this place. The one everyone talks about in hushed, grateful tones. The forest is still and empty. She’s not here. I know she hasn’t been seen for weeks.

Which doesn’t really surprise me. After she defeated Roberta Connors, stopped the darkness that nearly swallowed our world—she could’ve taken a throne if she had wanted. Could have stayed and basked in the admiration of every shifter and human in a fifty-mile radius.

That’s not Helena, though. She had slipped away to my grandfather Edward’s hidden retreat. Back to silence and solitude. Exactly where I wish I was.

“Hey, you.” Her voice cuts through the quiet like light through leaves—sharp, sudden, unwelcome.

No. No, not now.

There’s no mistaking her voice or her scent. I turn slowly, jaw tight, spine stiffening even before my eyes confirm what I already know.

Stacy.

She crosses the invisible line between forest and human world with an effortless strut like she owns the ground beneath her. Striding forward with her eyes locked onto me.

“Sam said I might find you here,” she says, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Then he’s in for an earful,” I mutter, turning away.

“Don’t blame him,” she says, stepping closer. Determined. Unshaken. Her footfalls crunch softly—careful, but steady. She’s not stopping. “I twisted his arm.”

“Why?” I keep my voice flat, cold, eyes locked on a knot in the tree bark ahead of me. “Why bother? Skipping lunch wasn’t a mystery. I thought the message was clear.”

“I’m not here for lunch.”

The air tightens between us, heavy with everything we’re not saying.

“You and Sam?” she says, voice quieter now. “You’re more alike than you think. He did the same thing to Erica. Took off when things got complicated.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. Hard.

“So, what?” I ask. “You came out here to tell me I’m a shitty brother? Or are you calling me a coward?”

“No. God no,” she says, circling until she is in front, leaving me no choice but to meet her eyes. “I came because you owe me an answer. Last night, you said we want different things. I’ve been thinking about that all night and all morning. I still don’t get it. What do you mean?”

I sigh, slow and deep. Shoulders drop. Fine. She wants the truth, then I’m going to give it to her. I need to shut this shit down before it gets out of control.

“You want something real,” I say, low and steady. “A boyfriend. Connection. A future. I don’t. That’s not what I’m built for.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Getting to know someone, holding them, laughing, sleeping next to them—that’s a burden to you?”

“Yes,” I say simply. “At twenty-six? Yeah. I’m too young to tether myself to anyone. Not like that.”

“I’m twenty-six too!” Her voice rises, raw and sharp. “And I’ve been in relationships. I’ve loved people. That doesn’t scare me. Why does it scare you?”

“You’re forgetting something.” I take a step closer, my voice dipping into something darker, heavier.

“You’re human. If things fall apart, you grieve.

You heal. We don’t. For us, heartbreak isn’t a phase—it’s permanent.

” I tap my chest with two fingers. “If I fall in love— really fall—and it doesn’t work out?

That doesn’t just hurt. It will break me.

That happens and it kills something inside.

You ever hear about a wolf losing their mate?

It’s not like a human’s heartbreak. It’s bone-deep. ”

“Ray…”

“You asked me where ‘fun Ray’ went last night,” I cut her off with a hollow laugh in my throat.

“You want to know the truth? That guy—the flirty, makes-you-laugh, makes-it-easy guy? He’s dangerous.

He leads to hope. Hope leads to wreckage.

If he charms you, and something does happen between us, guess what?

It’s not just messy. It turns into a shitstorm.

It’s not only us now, is it? It would involve Raul, Sam and your friends. ”

“So you don’t want a relationship with me,” she says softly, and this time it lands.

She says it not like a question, but like a truth she’s finally willing to admit. I nod. Once.

“It’s not personal. It’s not even about you.

” I breathe in. “I’m close with Raul and Sam.

They love your friends. And those two, Erica and Monica, they trust me too.

And they won’t if they think I’m playing with fire.

We start something, and it goes sideways?

That’s not just awkward. It’s more than just us, it could ruin the whole damn pack. ”

“I love coming here,” she says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” I say, meeting her eyes, trying to be gentler.

“So let’s not ruin it. You’re smart. You’re beautiful.

Hell, you’re hot , Stacy. You’ll meet someone back in New York who’ll take you to dinner, buy you flowers, send you good morning texts, rub your feet at night.

Someone who’ll be everything you deserve. ”

Her eyes shimmer. And I hate that I mean every word. Every. Damn. One. She deserves someone who looks at her and sees forever. Which I don’t. I can’t. All I see is danger. Risk. A chasm I’m not willing to jump across. Not for her or for anyone.

I move past her, slow and steady, accidentally brushing her shoulder with mine. And it hurts. It hurts so damn much.

Because I want to be that guy. I do want to be someone who doesn’t see love as a threat, but I can’t. I’ve lived too long in the shadow of what it could cost. I walk into the trees. My chest aches with every step.

And I don’t look back.

If I do, I might never leave.