She tilted her head, studying him with those green eyes—so like Junie’s and yet completely different. Where Junie’s gaze was sharp and assessing, always looking for the joke, this woman’s was curious. Analytical. The look of someone who examined things carefully before forming conclusions.
“You’re Beck, aren’t you?” She extended a hand. “I’m Rosemary. Junie’s cousin.”
Beck stared at her hand like it might bite him.
Take it, the wolf demanded.Touch her. Know her scent. CLAIM?—
He took her hand.
The contact was electric. Not metaphorically—literally. A spark jumped between their palms, magic he didn’t know he possessed, reacting to magic he didn’t know she had. Rosemary’s eyes widened, and she jerked back like she’d been burned.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know.” A lie. He knew exactly what it was. “Static electricity?”
“That wasn’t static electricity.” Her analytical gaze had sharpened, suspicion creeping in. “That was… different.”
Tell her, the wolf urged.She’s ours. She needs to know.
Beck had watched Leo fight his lion’s recognition for weeks. He’d seen what happened when a shifter tried to force a bond on someone who wasn’t ready. Whatever this was—and it was definitely real—it needed to unfold at her pace, not his wolf’s.
“I’m sorry.” He forced his voice into a semblance of normal. “Junie didn’t tell me she had a cousin coming.”
Rosemary’s tension eased slightly. “She didn’t know until last week. I’ve been traveling—research expedition in the South Pacific. I wasn’t sure I’d make it back in time for the celebration, but…” She shrugged. “Family’s family.”
“Marine biology.” Beck remembered now—Junie mentioning a cousin once, years ago. The non-magical branch of the Reed family. “You study… fish?”
Rosemary’s laugh was unexpected—low and hushed, nothing like Junie’s bright cackle. “Among other things. Cephalopods, mostly. Octopi. Squid.”
“Fascinating creatures, octopi.”
“You know anything about them?”
“Absolutely nothing. But I’m very willing to learn.”
There it was—that smile again, surprised and genuine. Beck’s wolf preened.
“Can I buy you a drink?” The words came out before Beck could stop them. “To apologize for the… static electricity.”
“You want to buy me a drink to apologize for a thing that wasn’t your fault?”
“I want to buy you a drink because I want to buy you a drink. The apology is a convenient excuse.”
Rosemary studied him again, that analytical gaze taking his measure. Beck held still, letting her look, trying not to seem as desperate as his wolf felt.
“One drink,” she said eventually. “But only because the open bar is making me feel guilty about not socializing.”
One drink turned into two.
Two turned into three.
By the fourth, they’d abandoned the bar entirely and found a quiet corner of the garden, away from the dancing and the noise and the well-meaning relatives who kept trying to drag Beck onto the dance floor.
Rosemary talked about her research—a six-month expedition studying deep-sea ecosystems, cataloging species that had never been documented. Her eyes lit up when she described the creatures she’d encountered, the mysteries still waiting to be solved in the ocean’s depths. She was passionate and brilliant and completely oblivious to the supernatural world her cousin inhabited.
Beck talked about the brewery, about pack life (carefully edited), about growing up in Haven Shores. He made her laugh with stories about Theo’s disastrous attempts at cooking and Avine’s ongoing war with the inn’s enchanted plumbing.
He didn’t tell her about the wolf. Not yet. That conversation required more than a party and four glasses of champagne.
