Chapter 4 - Grayson
Grayson’s wolf wouldn’t shut up. It prowled at the edge of his mind, pacing with every step, every noise, every subtle shift in the forest around them.
The bond had amplified its instincts to a level he hadn’t expected, turning even the faintest crack of a twig into a potential threat.
It wasn’t just protective but possessive, which was a problem.
“You’re doing it again,” Cora commented.
“Doing what?” he asked, not breaking stride.
“You get this furrowed-brow, doom-and-gloom look. It’s very dramatic.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. She’d wrapped her arms around herself against the chill, and her steps were uneven as she picked her way over the rocky trail.
Despite everything—the blood on her wrists, the exhaustion in her gait—her defiance hadn’t dimmed.
Her chin was tipped up, and her glare was fixed squarely on him.
He couldn’t decide if it annoyed him or impressed him. Probably both.
“Just keeping an eye out,” he explained, turning his attention back to the trees. “You’d prefer I didn’t?”
“An eye out for what?” she asked. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Unless you think Voss has GPS on us, I think we’re safe for five minutes.”
He didn’t answer. It wasn’t worth explaining to her how deep the network ran, how shifters like Voss didn’t rely on technology when they had hunters who could track a scent for miles.
He hadn’t been in Bellefleur for months, but thanks to that auction, he knew the darkness crept around its edges, spilling out into places like this.
Cora didn’t know it yet, but she was caught in the middle of something much bigger than either of them.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she pressed, quickening her pace to catch up to him. “Why are you so twitchy?”
Grayson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Because I’d rather not get ambushed. Again.”
“Fair,” she admitted, though her tone held a trace of sarcasm. “But maybe you could tone down the ‘lone wolf on a mission’ vibe. It’s exhausting.”
He glanced at her again, and despite himself, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Lone wolf?”
“Well, yeah. That’s your whole thing, right? Broody, stoic, allergic to teamwork?”
“I’m not allergic to teamwork. I work black ops. It’s all teamwork.”
She snorted. “So where’s your team now? Or are you just playing solo hero today?”
Grayson huffed out a breath. He wasn’t about to explain the intricacies of black ops operations to her, let alone the fact that the rest of his team didn’t even know he’d gone this deep.
This mission had been personal from the start, a way to bury himself in something—anything—that didn’t involve returning to Bellefleur and facing the ghosts he’d left behind.
“You don’t need to know where they are. Just that they’re out there.”
“Cryptic. Love that.”
He didn’t respond. Talking to her was dangerous, and not just because she wasn’t sharp, but because she was too sharp.
She poked at his defenses, and if he wasn’t careful, her questions might slip past the walls he’d built over years of staying detached.
He couldn’t afford to let that happen. Not when the bond was already pulling him toward her in ways he couldn’t control.
His wolf shifted uneasily again, and he clenched his fists, forcing the feeling down. He needed to stay focused. Cora wasn’t his mate. She couldn’t be. The bond was a spell, not fate, and letting his wolf think otherwise wouldn’t do anyone any good.
The memory hit him before he could stop it—a flash of soft laughter, warm hands, and the hollow ache that followed.
He hadn’t thought of her in months, maybe years.
The mission didn’t leave room for grief, and he’d learned to bury it deep enough that it didn’t surface.
But now, with the bond tugging at him and Cora’s presence disrupting every carefully constructed barrier, it all felt too close.
“Grayson?” Cora’s voice pulled him back. “You spacing out again?”
“Just thinking.”
“Well, stop thinking so loud. It’s weird.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her fully. “Do you ever stop talking?”
“Not when the company’s this riveting,” she shot back.
Grayson stared at her, trying to piece together how someone who had been through what she’d been through still had the energy to argue with him at every turn.
She should’ve been terrified, quiet, compliant.
Instead, she constantly challenged him like she didn’t realize how precarious their situation was.
Or maybe she did realize it, and this was her way of fighting back. He couldn’t decide which option annoyed him more.
“Look, I get that this isn’t exactly a vacation for you either, but if you’re going to keep dragging me through the woods, maybe try not acting like I’m the enemy.”
“You’re not the enemy, but you’re not my priority either.”
“Good to know.”
Grayson’s wolf growled, low and insistent, but he ignored it. Whatever pull the bond was creating, it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. His life didn’t leave room for connections, especially not ones forced by magic and circumstance.
Still, as they continued walking, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing back at her every few minutes and checking for any sign of weakness or hesitation.
Her steps wobbled occasionally, but she never asked him to slow down, never complained about the bruises forming on her bare feet or the cuts on her wrists.
She was stronger than he’d given her credit for, and he hated that his wolf noticed it, too.
“You grew up there, didn’t you?” Cora’s question startled him, breaking through the quiet like a stone thrown into still water.
“Where?”
“Bellefleur,” she answered, glancing at him sideways. “You act like going back there is some kind of death sentence.”
Grayson didn’t answer right away. He hadn’t planned to talk about it—not with her or anyone—but the bond tugged at him again, loosening his grip on the silence he’d held onto for so long.
“I left a while ago. Didn’t think I’d have to go back so soon.”
“Why’d you leave?”
He thought about lying, but something in her expression stopped him—the same defiance that had annoyed him earlier now felt almost…comforting. Familiar.
“Because staying meant being reminded that I’d lost everything I cared about.”
Cora didn’t press him for more, which he was grateful for. They kept walking, and the conversation faded into silence once more. Grayson’s wolf paced restlessly in his mind, and he knew this was only the beginning.
***
By the time Bellefleur came into view, Cora was limping, though she tried to mask it by straightening her posture with every step.
Grayson noticed, of course. He noticed everything.
The wolf inside him bristled every time her pace faltered, its instinct to protect her stronger than ever thanks to the bond.
It didn’t care that she was stubborn as hell or that she’d probably bite his head off if he suggested she stop and rest.
He kept his mouth shut, knowing it wasn’t worth the argument, and adjusted his pace to stay just ahead of her. Leading, not waiting.
Bellefleur wasn’t much to look at. It was a scattering of weathered buildings, pot-holed streets, and enough trees around its borders to give it the illusion of privacy. From the looks of her, Cora had grown up in a bigger town and wasn’t used to its quiet charm. Or maybe charm wasn’t the word.
“Where exactly are you taking me?” she asked after a beat, breaking the silence.
“To Ryder,” Grayson said. “And Zach. They’ll help.”
Cora stopped mid-step. “Oh, great. More bossy shifters. Just what I need.”
“You want to do this on your own?”
“No,” she admitted, lifting her chin. “But I’d like a say in who decides to play knight in shining fur.”
He exhaled through his nose and resumed walking. “Ryder and Zach are pack. They won’t hurt you.”
“Comforting,” she muttered, falling back into step behind him. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled about this whole ‘bonded to a witch’ situation.”
“They’ll get over it,” he said flatly.
“Uh-huh. And what if I don’t?”
“You don’t have to like it. You just have to survive.”
Cora blinked, clearly startled by the sudden intensity in his voice, but she recovered quickly. “Wow. Romantic.”
Grayson ignored her sarcasm and gestured toward the weathered building ahead. “We’re here.”
The safe house was on the edge of town. It was a plain, utilitarian structure that had been used by Bellefleur’s pack for years.
It didn’t look like much—just another worn-down building in a town full of them—but it served its purpose.
Grayson pushed open the door and motioned for Cora to go inside first. She hesitated, glancing around as if expecting an ambush.
“It’s empty. For now.”
“For now,” she repeated with a scowl, stepping inside.
“The guys are in the back.”
The interior was spare but functional. A table sat in the center of the room, surrounded by mismatched chairs, and a small kitchenette was tucked into the far corner. The faint scent of coffee lingered, a reminder that Ryder and Zach had been using the space.
Footsteps echoed down the hall, and a moment later, Ryder appeared. His brow furrowed as his gaze flicked between Cora and Grayson. “You’ve got some explaining to do. You’re not supposed to be anywhere near here while you’re under cover.”
Cora folded her arms, standing her ground. Grayson stepped forward, blocking her from Ryder’s scrutiny. “Not here to argue. We need to talk.”
Ryder’s frown deepened, and his eyes shifted back to Cora. “I recognize you. You’re Laila’s friend, right? The witch who just moved to Bellefleur?”
Cora nodded. “That’s me. Though I wasn’t planning on being dragged into whatever this is.”
Zach took in the bruises and the tension in her stance. “You look like hell. What happened?”
“She was at the auction,” Grayson interjected. “I pulled her out.”
Ryder’s focus snapped to Grayson. “Auction? You mean Voss’ operation? You’re supposed to be undercover, Kane. What the hell were you doing exposing yourself like that?”
Grayson’s wolf stirred at the implicit challenge but kept his voice steady. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Didn’t have a choice,” Ryder repeated. “You think that’s gonna fly? You blew months of work for one witch.”
Grayson didn’t flinch. “If you’d seen what I saw, you’d have done the same.”
Zach’s gaze flicked back to Cora, studying her more closely now. “What’s he talking about?”
Cora opened her mouth, but Grayson stepped in again before she could answer. “She was on stage—part of the sale. I couldn’t leave her there. Especially once I found out she was from Bellelfuer.”
Zach tilted his head. “Wait, isn’t there some kind of magical bond required for that? I heard the auctions have rules. Buyers have to bind themselves to the witches they purchase.”
Grayson’s shoulders tensed as he avoided looking at Cora. “There’s a bond,” he admitted. “It was part of the ritual. We didn’t have a choice.”
“We?” Cora questioned. “I definitely didn’t choose this.”
“That makes two of us,” Grayson bit out, though his voice lacked its usual edge.
“And now she’s bonded to you.” Ryder’s expression darkened, and he breathed slowly, frustrated. “Damn it, Grayson. Do you have any idea what kind of mess you’ve made?”
“I’m aware, but there’s no undoing it now.”
Ryder swore under his breath. “So not only did you blow your cover, but you brought his attention right back here. Do you know what that means for the pack?”
“It means we need to prepare,” Grayson said. “Voss won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”
“And what exactly does he want?” Zach asked as he glanced at Cora again.
“Me,” Cora answers quietly. “He wants me back. He considers the sale revoked since Grayson’s black ops.”
Zach let out a low whistle. “You really stepped in it this time, Kane.”
Grayson ignored him. “We need patrols. Double coverage around the perimeter. Anyone who sees something suspicious reports it immediately. No one acts alone.”
“And her?” Ryder asked, nodding toward Cora. “What’s the plan there?”
“I’ll handle it.”
Cora rolled her eyes. “You say that like it’s supposed to make me feel better.”
“It’s not,” Grayson countered. “It’s supposed to keep you alive.”
“Touching, but maybe next time, try asking me what I want instead of deciding for me.”
“You want to stay alive, don’t you?”
“I don’t need anyone to look out for me.”
“You don’t get a choice. Not anymore.”
For a moment, the room fell silent. Cora glared at Grayson, and he stared back. Finally, Ryder cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “You taking her to your place?”
“She won’t stay there,” Grayson stated as though it was already decided.
“Damn right, I won’t,” Cora added.
“Then where?” Ryder asked.
Grayson turned to Cora. “You have a place?”
Her glare faltered, but she nodded. “Above Laila’s bakery. It’s small, but it’s mine.”
“Then we’ll go there, but I’m staying with you.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“You’re not safe alone. If Voss finds you, he’ll kill you just to send a message to Black Ops. Staying together is the only way to keep you alive.”
For a moment, Cora didn’t speak. Finally, she nodded, though her expression was anything but happy. “Fine. But no barking orders.”
Zach snorted, and Ryder gave Grayson a long, pointed look. “You’d better keep us updated.”
“I will. And Ryder? Tighten the patrols.”
Ryder nodded. “Already on it. Just be careful.”
Grayson stepped outside, finding Cora already a few paces ahead. For now, she was safe. But he knew better than anyone how fragile safety could be.