His shoulders squared. One hand lifted as he spoke, fingers cutting through the air in sharp, controlled gestures. His back seemed to tense each time he emphasized a point.
He wasn’t yelling, but there was restrained intensity in every movement. Like he was holding a line and daring someone to push him off it.
Levi didn’t back down. He was fighting for me again. A packless coyote he barely even knew.
The seconds dragged.
Then Levi’s shoulders eased, just slightly. He gave a small nod and handed the phone back to Gino.
Gino shook his head once, then turned toward the rest of the group. He lifted his hand in a short, sharp signal.
Everything changed in an instant.
The casual chatter of the other two wolves died mid-sentence. Within seconds, they were moving, packing up equipment, slinging bags over their shoulders, heading toward their trucks in efficient, practiced coordination.
Did it work? Was I going with them?
Levi turned back toward me.
The smile he gave me was small at first, then it widened just enough to soften the sharpness of his features. The morning light caught in his eyes, the dark mossy green turning a shade lighter at the edges.
“C’mon,” he said, stopping in front of me and holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”
He stood there with his hand extended like the decision had already been made, that there was no question I was coming with them.
I stared at his hand for half a beat too long before I placed my hand in his.
Chapter 3
Mason
I’d heard about Pecan Pines long before I ever moved into that cabin on the outskirts of town.
A shifter town that had finally settled into something quieter after years of unrest. Safe, now, or at least, safer than it used to be.
Neighbors knew each other here. Humans and shifters mixed more than they used to.
I’d heard about the monthly markets that spilled out onto the streets, stalls lined up under the sun while people lingered too long just talking. At night, lights were sometimes strung between poles, music drifting late into the dark.
I’d never gone.
Even after settling into the cabin, I’d kept my distance. Now I was being dropped right into the middle of it.
I sat in the back seat of Gino’s truck, clutching my duffel tighter than necessary. Somewhere up front, soft country music played low through the speakers.
The cab smelled faintly of coffee and engine oil, with an undercurrent of wolf. It pressed in on me from all sides.
My phone buzzed once. My breath hitched.
I slid my hand into the duffel as casually as I could and silenced it. When I looked up, Gino was still focused on the road, one elbow braced against the door, eyes forward.
Levi twisted slightly in the passenger seat. His expression didn’t change at all.
“You’ll be staying at Tony and Nico’s place for the time being,” he said easily. “They’ve got a spare room you can crash in.”
I nodded. Even in the dim light of the truck, his eyes still caught mine. I noticed the faint crinkle at the corner when he smiled, like it was something he did often enough for his face to remember it.
The truck eased to a stop. Gino pulled over along the curb in front of a small diner and cut the engine.
