Page 64 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

“I’m sure.”

I very slowly climbed to my feet, leaning against the wall for support. I cleared my throat, trying to process this unexpected reprieve. “I think you should keep learning self-defence. With someone else, obviously.”

Felix considered this for a moment. “You can keep going with it,” he finally said quietly, looking away again. “If you want.”

I stared at him. “Really?”

“Yes.” His cheeks had gone pink. “You’re, um… a good teacher. But I want one thing in return.”

I cocked my head, waiting.

“I want my hoodie back. It’s my favourite.”

My face burned with shame as I crossed the room to the kitchen counter. I hadn’t allowed myself to put it back in my bedroom where it had lived. Where I could bury my face in it and pretend, just for a moment, that Felix was mine.

I picked it up, the soft fabric still carrying the faintest trace of that scent that drove my wolf wild, and I held it out to him. Our fingers brushed as he took it, the brief contact sending a jolt up my arm. Felix jerked his hand back quickly.

Something crackled in the air between us. Like we were balanced on the edge of something that could either save us or destroy what little trust we’d managed to rebuild.

“I promise I can make this not weird, Felix,” I told him. “I promise I can behave completely normally.”

Like I’m not completely obsessed with you.

Like you’re not the last thing I think about at night, and the first thing I think about when I wake up.

Like my wolf doesn’t howl your name every time you walk away.

Like I don’t memorise every expression that crosses your face.

Like the thought of losing you doesn’t make me want to tear the world apart.

Like I’m not completely and utterly in—

“I believe you,” Felix said. “Or at least, I believe you’ll try.” He gave me a lopsided smile that made my heart lurch.

God, how had I got so lucky?

It was unfathomable.

But one thing was clear, absolute: I would spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of that smile.

Present Day

December 2026

18

Felix

Theo pushed through the bookcase entrance, shaking his head before anyone could ask. He held up a clear plastic evidence wallet containing the tiny listening device that we’d found on our lightbulb.

“Nothing,” he said grimly. “Not even a partial print. Whoever planted this knew what they were doing.”

Seb nodded, unsurprised. “I hadn’t really expected them to leave prints, but it was worth checking.”

Before we handed it over to Theo to take to his station’s lab, we’d dismantled the device. This was some serious tech, top-of-the-range components, custom fabrication, encrypted transmission, frequency hopping to avoid detection. Its long-life battery was rechargeable using the photovoltaic strips around the device—it had been feeding off the light bulb. Bespoke firmware, no manufacturer markings.

The most frustrating part was the timeline. We had no idea if this thing had been recording us for six months or six hours. The lightbulb fixture on the stairs sat perfectly in a camera blind spot.