Chapter 18 Nora
Nora
Packing a bag shouldn’t have felt emotional.
It was just clothes, toiletries, my favorite cardigan… nothing I couldn’t live without for a few days.
But standing in my bedroom—the same bedroom where Wolf had kissed me breathless last night, where I’d woken in his arms this morning—I suddenly understood the gravity of what I was doing.
Leaving home meant acknowledging danger.
Acknowledging that someone out there knew my routines, my habits… my vulnerability.
Wolf stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching me in that silent, protective way he had.
“How long will I be staying?” I asked quietly, folding a stack of tops.
“As long as needed,” he said. “Could be a week. Could be more.”
I nodded, biting back the tightness in my throat. “Okay.”
He stepped inside, gently taking the sweater from my hands and placing it in the duffel. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“I know.”
A beat. “It still feels like running.”
“It’s not,” Wolf said. “It’s relocating. Strategic and temporary.”
“You make it sound like a mission.”
“It is,” he said simply. “A protection mission. And you’re the priority.”
My heart stuttered.
His tone wasn’t flirtation. It wasn’t exaggeration.
It was truth.
I zipped the bag, then hesitated. “I should probably bring Muffin’s things.”
As if on cue, the cat strutted into the room and sat directly on Wolf’s boot.
Wolf stared down at him. “We’re not bonding.”
Muffin flicked his tail and settled in.
I smiled faintly. “He likes you.”
“He likes stepping on me,” Wolf muttered.
“Same thing,” I teased, and for a moment, the fear loosened its grip.
I gathered the cat carrier, a bag of food, and a handful of toys. Wolf lifted both my duffel and the carrier with one hand, as if they weighed nothing.
“Ready?” he asked.
I looked around my home—quiet, warm, familiar.
The place where I’d felt safe until now.
“Yes,” I said, even though a part of me trembled.
Wolf opened the door first, stepping onto the porch with lethal calm. He scanned the street, then nodded.
“Clear.”
I followed him down the walkway, Muffin meowing indignantly from his carrier.
Halfway to the tavern, we passed Saint and Havoc installing another camera on a streetlamp. Trigger painted “WELCOME TO EAGLE RIVER” on the tavern’s front door—except he’d misspelled welcome, and Havoc knocked him upside the head.
Trigger gasped when he saw the carrier. “IS THE BEAST COMING TO LIVE WITH US?!”
Wolf growled, “Don’t call her cat a beast.”
Havoc squinted. “That’s a cat?”
Saint elbowed him. “Stop. You’ll hurt its feelings. He’s a Maine Coon cat so he’s larger than other cats.”
Wolf ignored all of them, guiding me up the wooden stairs at the side of the building.
At the landing, he pushed open the heavy door.
“Welcome to the Roost,” he said.
The Upstairs Apartment
It wasn’t just an apartment.
It was practically a small hotel floor—renovated with wide hallways, exposed brick walls, warm lighting, and old oak doors repurposed into room entrances. It was beautiful. Seven bedrooms in total.
Each door had a small carved plaque:
WOLF — TRIGGER — SAINT — HAVOC — BLAZE— BEAST — ACE
“This used to be a hotel in the seventies,” Wolf explained. “Fell apart for twenty years. We rebuilt it to live together. Easier for ops. Easier for friendship.”
He said the last word softly, like it mattered more than he wanted to admit.
He guided me to the end of the hall, where a wide archway opened into a massive shared living space—brick walls, leather couches, long windows overlooking the street.
And the kitchen—
“Oh wow,” I whispered. “This is beautiful.”
Trigger popped out of the pantry like he’d been waiting to spring. “RIGHT?! I picked the backsplash!”
Havoc walked by and muttered, “No one lets him have creative control anymore.”
Saint appeared behind Wolf. “We set up the spare room.”
“Spare room?” I asked.
Wolf nodded. “The hotel had a suite. We kept one room open for emergencies. You’ll stay there.”
Trigger clapped. “It’s cozy! And I hid snacks!”
Wolf glared. “Trigger. Don’t hide food in her room. Ignore him.”
Trigger sighed dramatically. “You’re no fun.”
The Spare Room
When Wolf opened the door, I stopped breathing for a second.
It wasn’t just safe.
It was thoughtful.
A queen bed with a quilt. A small bookshelf. A window overlooking the river. Light blue curtains. A rug soft enough to sink my toes into.
“This is… perfect,” I whispered.
Saint shrugged. “We figured you wouldn’t want something too military.”
Havoc set my duffel on the bed. “The bathroom is behind that door. Laundry down the corridor. If you need anything—food, water, weapons—ask.”
Trigger peeked in. “And if you need entertainment, I have board games.”
Wolf shut the door gently in his face.
I laughed, tension easing. “Thank you. All of you.”
Saint nodded. Havoc grunted.
When the others drifted off, Wolf turned back to me.
“Nora,” he said quietly.
“Mmh?”
“You’re safe here.”
I swallowed. “I know.”
“You’re not alone.”
My eyes softened. “I know that too.”
He hesitated—barely—then brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. His gaze lingered on my lips before flicking quickly away.
“I’ll be right outside,” he murmured. “If you need anything.”
“Wolf…”
He met my eyes.
I stepped a little closer—not touching, but close enough that I felt his breath on my cheek.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For all of this.”
The muscle in his jaw flexed. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I want to.”
His voice lowered. “Nora…”
Footsteps thundered down the hall.
Trigger: “WHO WANTS TACOS?!”
Wolf closed his eyes like he was enduring torture.
I bit back a smile. “Your team is… enthusiastic. How did you control him during a mission.”
“They’re idiots,” he muttered. “But they’re good idiots. Trigger, is nothing like this on missions. He’s lazer sharp, and someone I trust with my life.”
“I’m glad.”
Wolf stepped back a fraction, letting me breathe.
“I’ll let you settle in,” he said.
But the look he gave me before turning away—
Warm. Intense. Protective.
—told me he wasn’t going far.