Chapter 12
Levi
“Oh, sorry,” he said quickly, tugging at the hem of the shirt. “I didn’t really think when I put it on.”
I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms.
“You don’t need to apologize,” I told him.
He glanced up uncertainly.
“You look great in it,” I informed him.
That only made the blush deepen. Mason cleared his throat and shifted the conversation quickly. “What are you making?”
I turned back to the stove, hiding my grin.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I said. “I just grabbed whatever was in the fridge.”
Mason stepped closer, peering over my shoulder. One eyebrow slowly lifted.
“French toast isn’t much?” he asked.
I laughed. “Hey, compared to what some of my brothers can cook, this is gourmet,” I said.
I flipped the last piece onto a plate and grabbed another fork.
“It’s my favorite breakfast,” I added. “Growing up with a bunch of brothers meant quick meals. French toast was my mom’s go-to when she needed to feed everyone fast.”
Mason smiled faintly at that. “Sounds chaotic.”
“You have no idea,” I told him.
We sat down at the small table by the window.
Sunlight had grown stronger now, filtering through the trees outside and spilling across the wooden floor. Mason took a bite and hummed quietly.
“Okay,” he admitted. “This is actually really good.”
“High praise,” I said solemnly.
He rolled his eyes but kept eating. The quiet between us felt easy and comfortable. The word domestic came to mind, and I hadn’t expected that.
Watching Mason sit across from me, wearing my shirt and stealing the last piece of French toast from the plate, something warm settled deep in my chest.
I could get used to this. The thought came uninvited, and surprisingly, it didn’t scare me. When we finished eating, we both leaned back in our chairs with matching groans.
“Too much?” I asked.
“Definitely.”
I stood and stretched.
“Well, there’s a solution,” I told him.
Mason looked up. “What’s that?”
“Run it off,” I suggested.
His eyes lit slightly. “In human form?”
I grinned. “Nope.”
That got his attention.
“You’re suggesting we shift?” Mason asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “There’s a spot in the woods nearby. Private. Has good trails.”
He stood slowly, interest clearly winning over the lingering sleepiness.
“Alright,” he said. “Lead the way.”
The forest greeted us with cool morning air and the soft rustle of leaves underfoot.
We walked side by side along a narrow path that twisted through tall pines and thick underbrush.
Sunlight flickered between the branches above us, creating shifting patches of gold along the trail. Mason glanced around, curiosity bright in his eyes.
“You come out here a lot?” he asked.
“When I need the quiet,” I told him.
Eventually the trees opened into a small clearing beside a shallow creek.
“This is it,” I said.
Mason looked around slowly. “Nice.”
“Ready?” I asked him.
His smile answered the question. A moment later bones shifted and reshaped. The familiar rush of transformation moved through me, muscles tightening as fur burst along my skin.
When it finished, I shook out my thick gray coat. Across the clearing, Mason’s coyote form stretched and yawned.
Smaller than my wolf, he was lean and quick. His ears perked toward me.
For a moment we just watched each other. Then Mason darted forward suddenly and bumped his shoulder against mine before sprinting toward the trees.
It was a clear invitation. My wolf surged forward instantly. Challenge accepted. I launched after him.
We raced through the woods like shadows, weaving between trees and leaping fallen logs. Mason was fast, quick on his feet, darting left and right with playful unpredictability.
I caught up long enough to tag him lightly with my nose. He yipped in mock offence and bolted again. The sound that escaped my throat might have been a laugh.
Time blurred. Eventually we slowed near the creek, both of us panting slightly.
Mason flopped onto the grass, tongue lolling happily. I dropped beside him, chest rising and falling as the cool air washed over us.
For a while we just lay there. My wolf stretched lazily inside me.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this carefree. I watched him roll onto his back, paws kicking slightly in the air like he didn’t have a care in the world.
I wanted more of this, more mornings, more runs through the woods, and more quiet moments learning who Mason really was.
* * *
The run left my muscles pleasantly loose and my lungs burning in the best way.
By the time we made our way back through the trees toward the cabin, the morning sun had climbed higher, warming the forest floor and burning off the lingering chill in the air.
Mason walked beside me, barefoot, his hair still a little wild from the shift.
He looked happy, relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen before. Every few seconds he glanced at me like he was still riding the high of the run, a quiet grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“That,” he said finally, stretching his arms over his head, “was exactly what I needed.”
I snorted. “You’re the one who turned it into a full sprint.”
“You chased me,” he said.
“You started it.”
He bumped my shoulder lightly. “You enjoyed it.”
I couldn’t argue with that. By the time we reached the cabin steps, both of us were sweaty and covered in bits of leaves and dirt.
Mason wrinkled his nose slightly as he brushed something off his arm.
“Okay,” he said. “I might need a shower.”
I opened the door and stepped inside.
“Funny,” I said casually, kicking the door shut behind him. “I was thinking the same thing.”
He followed me down the short hallway, pausing when I pushed open the bathroom door.
The shower was small but functional. Enough space for one person comfortably. Two would be a squeeze. I leaned against the doorframe and folded my arms, watching him.
“We could save water,” I said.
Mason blinked.
“Save water,” he repeated.
“Yeah.”
His eyes narrowed slightly as realization dawned.
“You’re suggesting we shower together?”
“I am,” I told him.
He stared at me for a long second. Then a slow smile spread across his face.
“You’re very environmentally conscious,” he said.
“I try.”
He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat of his skin.
“You say that,” he murmured, “but something tells me that’s not your main motivation.”
I shrugged. “Multiple benefits.”
Mason huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” I said softly, reaching out to hook a finger lightly through the hem of the shirt he was still wearing, “you’re still here.”
His breath caught just slightly. For a moment neither of us moved. Then Mason pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it toward the sink.
“Well,” he said, turning toward the shower, “we shouldn’t waste water.”
I grinned and followed him in. The warm spray hit my shoulders first, steam quickly filling the small space. Mason stood under the water, tilting his head back as it soaked through his hair.
For a moment I just watched him. The way droplets ran down the line of his neck, and how his shoulders relaxed as the heat worked into his muscles. Eventually he noticed the staring.
“You planning on just watching?” he asked.
“Considering it,” I answered.
He rolled his eyes and grabbed the shampoo bottle, squeezing some into his palm.
“Turn around.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Bossy,” I told him.
“Turn. Around.”
Chuckling, I obeyed. A second later his fingers were in my hair. The sensation surprised me.
Mason worked the shampoo through slowly, massaging my scalp with careful fingers. It was gentle, unhurried, and comforting in a way I hadn’t expected.
My shoulders loosened under his touch.
“Not bad,” I murmured.
“High praise,” Mason said.
I hummed as he rinsed the shampoo out, fingers trailing lightly through my hair before he nudged my shoulder.
“Your turn,” I told him.
I switched places with him. Mason faced the wall now, head ducked slightly under the spray.
I poured a small amount of shampoo into my hand and stepped closer. My fingers slid into his hair. He made a soft sound almost immediately.
“Good?” I asked him.
“Don’t stop.”
I smiled. His hair was softer than it looked, dark strands slipping between my fingers as I worked the shampoo through.
The shower filled with quiet sounds, of the water hitting tile, our breathing. The occasional soft laugh when one of us bumped the other in the cramped space.
When we finished, Mason grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist while I did the same. He leaned against the counter, still slightly flushed from the heat.
“That might’ve been the best post-run shower I’ve ever had,” he admitted.
“High praise again,” I said.
“Don’t get used to it,” he shot back.
I laughed. Eventually we got dressed and stepped back outside. The walk to Nico and Tony’s house wasn’t long.
The forest path wound through familiar territory, sunlight flickering through the leaves above us. Mason walked close beside me, hands occasionally brushing mine as we moved.
Neither of us commented on it. When their house came into view through the trees, Mason slowed slightly.
“Well,” he said, “this is me.”
I nodded. Part of me didn’t want the morning to end.
“You free later?” I asked.
His smile returned. “We’ll see.”
For a moment we just stood there. Then Mason stepped closer and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.
“See you later, Levi,” he said.
Before I could respond, he turned and jogged up the steps toward the house. I watched him go, and then I turned to head back toward the trail.
“Levi.”
The voice stopped me cold. I turned and Dane stood a few yards away, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. My mood dropped instantly. I had a feeling I knew what this was about.
“What do you want?” I asked.
He pushed off the tree slowly. “I was actually looking for you.”
“That’s never good news,” I muttered.
His eyes flicked briefly toward the house behind me. “Tony’s still digging into Mason.”
Right. Tony’s investigation. I’d completely forgotten about it. Something in my chest hardened.
“That’s not necessary anymore,” I said curtly.
Dane frowned. “What?”
“I said it’s not necessary,” I told him more firmly.
His gaze sharpened. “You’re serious.”
“Yes,” I told him.
“You just met this guy,” Dane pointed out.
“And?”
“And now you trust him completely?” Dane demanded.
“Of course,” I told him.
Dane stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Levi…”
“No.” I held up a hand. “Drop it.”
He didn’t.
“You’re getting attached too quickly,” he said flatly.
I felt irritation spark in my chest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” Dane shot back. “He’s a stranger.”
“He’s not—”
“He showed up out of nowhere,” Dane continued, voice rising slightly. “And suddenly you’re defending him like he’s family.”
My hands curled into fists.
“Careful,” I warned.
Dane stepped closer. “Someone has to be.”
The air between us thickened instantly. Years of brotherhood meant we both knew the signs. Tension, posture shifting, and the subtle readiness before a fight.
“You think I’m stupid?” I said quietly.
“I think you’re blinded,” Dane corrected.
My temper snapped. In two quick strides I closed the distance between us, grabbing the front of his shirt.
Dane didn’t back down. His hands came up, gripping my arms hard enough to bruise.
For a second it looked like we were about to tear into each other. The forest went silent around us. Then Dane exhaled slowly through his nose and shoved me back.
I released him at the same time. We both stepped away, breathing hard. Neither of us wanted to be the first to throw a punch, but it had been close.
“Just be careful,” Dane said finally.
My jaw tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told him.
He studied me for a long moment. Then he shook his head slightly.
“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said.
I didn’t answer. Instead I turned sharply and stalked back toward the trail, anger still burning hot in my chest. Behind me, Dane didn’t follow.