Chapter 6 - Grayson
Grayson crouched in the shadow of the alley across from Cora’s building with his phone in hand and a pair of earbud wires trailing into his jacket.
The camera feed from the tiny surveillance devices he’d placed around her apartment streamed onto the screen, showing the quiet street, her door, and the windows facing the alley.
It wasn’t a perfect setup, but it was enough to give him some peace of mind.
Not that peace was a luxury he seemed capable of these days.
The wolf paced inside him, restless and growling with every second that passed without incident.
Every car that slowed, every shadow that stretched too far, sent a jolt of tension down his spine.
It was the bond. That much he knew. It heightened his instincts and turned his usual edge into something more primal, more demanding.
And being this close to her? It was like standing at the edge of a cliff with the wind at his back, threatening to push him over.
Then there were the nights.
Grayson had claimed her couch as his spot. It was far from comfortable—too short for his frame and with cushions that had seen better days—but he endured it. He’d slept in worse places during missions. The issue wasn’t the couch; it was the bedroom a few steps away.
His wolf tugged at him every night. It was like a low, constant pull urging him toward Cora’s door.
It was instinct, intrinsic, and frustratingly persistent.
His body insisted that he needed to be close, to protect her, to ensure she was safe.
He told himself it was just the bond. It had to be.
Anything else was dangerous territory, and he wasn’t going there.
Not when every inch of her posture and every cutting remark made it clear she wanted him as far away as possible.
The worst part wasn’t even the couch itself.
It was the moments just before sleep when the bond made its presence undeniable.
The magic rushed through his veins, whispering insistently in the quiet.
Protect. Stay close. Be hers. He ground his teeth every time, forcing himself to ignore it, to resist the pull.
Cora deserved her space, and he wasn’t about to make things harder for her.
But the strain was wearing on him, and his patience was already thin.
“You’ve got to stop hovering,” she’d said earlier that day. “It’s creepy.”
He didn’t hover. He protected. There was a difference. But there was no telling her that.
The phone vibrated in his hand, snapping him out of his thoughts. Ryder’s name flashed on the screen, and Grayson swiped to answer.
“Tell me you’ve got something,” Grayson said, keeping his voice low.
“Depends on what you mean by something,” Ryder replied. “Voss’ goons have been sniffing around the eastern edge of town. They haven’t crossed the line yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“And the rest of the pack?”
“Patrols are doubled. Zach’s leading the night shifts.”
“And Voss?”
“Laying low. For now.”
Grayson didn’t like that. Voss wasn’t the kind of man—or shifter—to retreat without a plan. If he wasn’t moving openly, it meant he was working behind the scenes, pulling strings in ways they couldn’t see yet. And with Cora still in his crosshairs, the danger felt closer than ever.
“I’ll keep an eye on things here,” Grayson declared. “Let me know the second anything changes.”
“Will do. And Kane?”
“What?”
“Maybe take a break or something. You’re in this too deep.”
The line went dead before Grayson could reply, not that he would’ve bothered. Rest wasn’t exactly a priority right now. Not when every instinct screamed at him to stay alert.
He pocketed the phone and straightened, looking back over the street. Everything looked quiet. Normal. But he knew better than to trust appearances.
By the time he climbed the stairs to Cora’s apartment, his mood had soured further. He unlocked the door with the spare key he’d insisted on keeping and stepped inside, finding her at the small kitchen table, a cup of tea in her hands and her laptop open in front of her.
She looked up, and her expression immediately shifted to a frown. “Do you ever knock?”
“I live here,” he reminded her, closing the door behind him. “Why would I knock?”
“Because it’s polite?” she suggested. “What if I’d been… I don’t know, doing something private?”
“Like what?” he asked, arching a brow.
Her cheeks flushed, and she scowled. “That’s not the point.”
He let it go, shifting his attention to the laptop. “You’re still researching?”
“Obviously,” she replied, lifting her cup to her lips. “Someone has to figure out how to break this bond.”
“And what have you found?”
“Not much,” she admitted. “Unless you’re interested in cautionary tales and vague warnings about ancient magic.”
“I’m not.”
“Didn’t think so.”
Grayson moved to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to scan the street below. It was quiet, as expected, but his wolf didn’t relax. It hadn’t relaxed since the night of the auction.
“You know, if you’re going to stand there brooding all day, you might as well start paying rent.”
He let the curtain fall back into place and turned to face her. “I’m not brooding.”
“You’re brooding,” she insisted. “It’s your default setting.”
“Do you ever stop talking?” he asked, though there was no heat behind the words.
“Do you ever smile?” she shot back, tilting her head.
Grayson sighed and leaned against the wall. “You’re awfully chatty for someone who claimed to need space.”
She shrugged. “You’re here. Might as well make it interesting.”
Before he could respond, a knock at the door interrupted them. Grayson tensed immediately, shifting to a defensive stance.
“It’s probably Laila,” Cora said, standing. “She said she might stop by.”
“Let me,” Grayson insisted, moving ahead of her. He opened the door carefully, relaxing only when he saw the familiar face on the other side.
Laila stood there with a bag in one hand and a knowing look on her face. “Relax, big guy. I’m not here to cause trouble.”
Grayson stepped aside, letting her in.
“Hey,” Cora greeted her. “What’s that?”
“Just some pastries,” Laila explained, setting the bag on the counter. “Thought you could use something sweet.”
Cora smiled, and Grayson found himself watching her a little too closely. Something about the way she lit up around her friend, the way the tension in her shoulders eased, made the bond pull at him even harder.
Laila glanced at him, quirking her brow. “And you? Do you eat things that aren’t meat and coffee?”
“I eat,” he said flatly.
“Good to know. Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Just wanted to check in.”
After Laila left, the silence between them settled like an invisible third party. Cora busied herself unpacking the bag.
“You don’t have to keep doing this,” Grayson finally said.
“Doing what?”
“Pretending everything’s fine.”
She froze for a moment before continuing to unpack. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about how not fine everything is.”
“Fair enough, but if you ever want to…”
“I won’t,” she said, cutting him off. “But thanks.”
Grayson let the subject drop. For now, keeping her safe was enough. Everything else—the bond, the pull, the way she got under his skin—would have to wait.
***
The early morning streets of Bellefleur were quiet, which felt more like a warning than a reprieve.
Grayson walked half a step behind Cora as she descended the stairs, watching every shadow, every flicker of movement at the edges of his vision.
The bond hummed low in his chest, a constant, nagging reminder that she was close—too close for his peace of mind but not close enough for his wolf’s liking.
“Do you always look like you’re planning to murder someone, or is that just a special treat for me?” Cora’s voice broke the silence, tinged with the usual sarcasm that had become her armor.
“Habit,” he replied, narrowing his eyes on a figure across the street. Just a pedestrian, or so it seemed, but his instincts had been screaming louder than usual this morning, and he didn’t like dismissing anything as coincidence.
“Well, it’s a little much for the bakery crowd. Try not to scare off the regulars, okay?”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he muttered, his attention darting to the mouth of an alley as they passed. Empty. For now.
Cora sighed, clearly picking up on his tension. “I know you’re convinced the boogeyman is going to jump out of a bush or something, but you can’t live like this forever.”
“I can,” he corrected. “And I will. Until we know you’re safe.”
She rolled her eyes and let out a long, dramatic breath. “You’re exhausting.”
“You’re welcome.”
Their banter might have seemed normal to an outsider, but every step Grayson took felt like balancing on a knife’s edge.
He wasn’t just watching for danger; he was anticipating it.
The organization hadn’t gone silent for no reason, and the knot in his gut told him they were far from finished with Cora.
The scent hit him just as they rounded the corner toward the bakery’s entrance. Subtle at first but distinct—an unfamiliar shifter who was too close for comfort. His entire body went rigid, and the wolf inside him growled.
“Cora.” She glanced at him, startled. “Keep walking. Don’t stop until you’re inside.”
“What? Why? What’s—”
“Just do it.” He didn’t have time for explanations. His hand brushed her lower back, steering her forward as he slowed his pace.
“Grayson, what the hell is going on?” she hissed, twisting to look over her shoulder.
“Go,” he ordered. “Now.”
She started to hesitate, but something in his tone must have convinced her because she turned and headed toward the bakery without another word. Grayson stayed where he was, letting the distance between them grow just enough to draw out the stalker.
He caught the scent again, stronger this time, coming from the opposite side of the street. A man lingered near a lamppost. His posture was casual, but his eyes tracked Cora with predatory focus. Grayson didn’t recognize him, but the way the man moved was all the confirmation he needed.
Grayson stepped into the man’s line of sight, making no effort to hide his approach. The stalker’s gaze flitted to him, and something like recognition flashed across his face before he straightened, and his demeanor changed from predator to neutral observer in the blink of an eye.
“Nice morning for a walk,” the man commented. Too calm.
“You’re following her,” Grayson stated, not bothering with pretense. “Why?”
The man smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea, friend. Just out for some fresh air.”
Grayson’s wolf snarled, surging against the restraints of his control. “You’re not local.”
“And you’re very protective,” the man countered. “Interesting.”
Grayson didn’t reply. His wolf pushed harder, demanding action, but he held back—for now. The man’s smirk faltered under his deadly stare, and his confidence cracked just enough to betray the truth. He was scared.
“Walk away,” Grayson ordered. “Whatever you’re here for, it ends now.”
The man’s fingers twitched like he was debating a fight. But Grayson took another step forward, letting his wolf bleed through just enough to make his point. A faint growl rumbled from deep in his chest, and the man’s composure broke.
“Fine,” the stalker conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Message received.”
Grayson didn’t move until the man turned and disappeared down the alley. Even then, he waited, listening for any sign that the stalker had doubled back. When he was satisfied the man was gone, he turned and headed for the bakery, his pulse still pounding with barely contained adrenaline.
Cora was waiting just inside the door, watching the scene. “What the hell was that about?” she demanded once he stepped inside.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Grayson said, brushing past her and scanning the room for any other threats.
“Not good enough,” she snapped, stepping into his path. “Who was that? Why were you talking to him?”
Grayson met her glare with one of his own. “Someone who didn’t belong here. He’s gone now.”
“And you’re sure he’s not coming back?”
“Positive.”
Cora didn’t look convinced, but she sighed, frustrated, and stepped aside. “You can’t just keep playing the lone wolf, you know. If something happens, I deserve to know about it. I can’t use my magic because of this stupid bond, which means, like it or not, I have limited options to defend myself.”
“I will keep you in the loop,” Grayson promised. “When it’s something worth knowing.”
She rolled her eyes and turned toward the counter. “You’re impossible.”
“Better than reckless.”
Cora didn’t respond, but he caught the way her shoulders tensed as she busied herself with setting out pastries. The encounter had rattled her, even if she wasn’t willing to admit it.
It had rattled him too, though he’d never let her see that.
Later that evening, back at the apartment, Grayson paced the small living room as his mind replayed the encounter over and over.
The man’s calm demeanor and the subtle way he’d positioned himself pointed to someone trained, someone used to blending in until it was time to strike.
The thought made his wolf snarl with frustration.
Cora sat on the couch, watching him with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”
Grayson stopped but didn’t sit. “We need to be ready.”
“Ready for what?” she asked. “Another random guy in the street?”
“It wasn’t random. He was following you. Watching you.”
Cora’s confidence wavered for a moment, but she recovered quickly. “And you scared him off. Problem solved.”
“For now. But he’ll report back. They’ll know you’re still here. That you’re still with me.”
“So what do we do? We can’t just keep hiding forever.”
“We won’t, but we need to be prepared. You need to be prepared.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” he said, crossing the room and standing in front of her, “you’re right. Without your magic, you’re a sitting duck. We’re starting training sessions. You need to learn how to defend yourself, with or without magic.”
Cora blinked, clearly surprised. “Training? Like…fighting?”
“Fighting. Strategy. Awareness,” he clarified. “If something happens and I’m not there, you need to be able to handle it.”
“Wow. You really know how to make a girl feel safe.”
“This isn’t a joke, Cora. You can’t rely on me for everything.”
She flinched but visibly shook off whatever thought seemed to go through her head. “Fine. But don’t expect me to enjoy it.”
“I don’t care if you enjoy it. I care if you survive.”
Cora held his gaze for a long moment before finally nodding. “Okay. When do we start?”
“Tomorrow,” he said without hesitation. “First thing.”