Chapter 14 - Grayson
Grayson’s fingers drummed on the neck of his beer bottle as Zane settled into the chair across from him.
“So,” Zane began, leaning back with all the ease of someone who didn’t have the weight of the world—or a town—on his shoulders, “are we gonna talk about it, or are you just gonna brood all night?”
Grayson rolled his eyes. “Talk about what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. The fact that you’re about two seconds away from imploding every time she walks into a room.”
“Drop it.”
“Not a chance,” Zane responded, taking a long pull from his beer. “I’ve known you too long, Kane. You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you’re torn between throwing her over your shoulder and hiding her in a bunker and throwing yourself off a cliff because you can’t handle it.”
Grayson’s laugh was humorless. “You’re an idiot.”
“And you’re deflecting,” Zane countered. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Look, I get it. The bond’s a mess, she’s a mess, and you’re…well, also a mess. But if you keep bottling this up, it’s gonna blow up in your face. Trust me.”
Grayson swirled the bottle in his hand, watching the condensation drip down its side. “It’s not that simple.”
“Since when is simple any fun?” Zane countered with a grin. “What’s so complicated about it? You’ve got a mate. She’s hot. She’s clearly into you—”
“She’s not into me,” Grayson snapped, cutting him off. “The bond is messing with her head. With both of us. It’s not real.”
Zane’s eyebrows shot up. “Not real? The bond exists, doesn’t it? You feel it, right? She feels it? What exactly about that isn’t real?”
Grayson shook his head. “It wasn’t her choice. Hell, it wasn’t my choice, either. I forced this on her. She didn’t ask for it, and now she’s stuck with me because of some screwed-up ritual.”
“Yeah, but she’s still here,” Zane pointed out. “She’s not running for the hills, is she? That’s gotta count for something.”
“She can’t run,” Grayson grumbled. “She’s tied to me.”
“Sure, but she’s also not, you know, actively trying to kill you. That’s a good sign.”
Grayson sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me,” Zane offered. “Because all I see is a guy who’s so scared of screwing this up that he’s not even giving it a chance.”
Grayson’s fist tightened around the bottle as Zane’s words barreled into him, hitting too close to home.
The memory of Emily surfaced again, and it struck him how closely things with her echoed the present situation with Cora.
He’d once thought he could keep her safe by following the mission and choosing duty over instinct, but it had cost her everything. Cost him everything.
She’d trusted him to protect her, and when the bond had gone silent when he’d felt it tear from his chest like a blade, all the justifications he’d clung to had meant nothing.
There’d been no second chances, no time to make it right.
He’d failed her, and the weight of that failure had lived with him every day since.
And now, here he was again, caught between the same pull of duty and connection. Only this time, the stakes weren’t just his. They were Cora’s.
“She deserves better.”
Zane let out a low whistle. “Wow. We’re really going for the martyr complex tonight, huh?”
“It’s not a complex,” Grayson snapped. “It’s the truth. My life is a disaster. My job, my past, my enemies—it’s all a mess. And now she’s caught in the middle of it.”
“And what do you think happens if you keep shutting her out?” Zane asked. “You think that’s gonna keep her safe? Because I hate to break it to you, Theodore and his goons aren’t backing off just because you’re playing the strong, silent type.”
Grayson’s teeth clenched. “She doesn’t need to know everything. The more she knows, the more danger she’s in.”
“The more you keep her in the dark, the more danger she’s in,” Zane countered. “She’s not some fragile little flower, Kane. She’s tougher than you think. But if you keep treating her like she’s breakable, you’re gonna lose her.”
“I can’t lose her,” Grayson admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
“Then stop pushing her away. She’s not a liability, Grayson. She’s your partner, whether you like it or not.”
Grayson leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling as if it might hold some kind of answer. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Yeah, well, none of us do,” Zane said with a shrug.
“It’s different with her,” Grayson muttered. “The bond… It’s too much. It’s like every time I look at her, I—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “It’s too much.”
“And what happens if she finds out you’ve been holding back? About Theodore, about the danger she’s in? You think she’ll thank you for keeping her out of the loop?”
Grayson didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The knot of guilt in his stomach said enough.
“Exactly,” Zane said, reading the silence for what it was.
“Look, I get that you’re trying to protect her.
But lying to her? Keeping her at arm’s length?
That’s not protecting her. That’s controlling her.
And trust me, that’s not gonna end well.
Beyond anything, she can’t properly protect herself if she doesn’t realize how serious the situation is. She deserves to know she’s a target.”
Grayson exhaled sharply and dipped his head as he rubbed the back of his neck. “So what? I just tell her everything? Dump all this on her and hope for the best?”
“Maybe not all at once. Ease into it. Start with the truth about Theodore. Let her know what’s at stake. Let her fight alongside you instead of for you.”
“And if she can’t handle it?”
“Then you help her handle it,” Zane said simply. “You have her back, and we have yours. Use it.”
Grayson stared at his empty bottle. Zane was right, as much as he hated to admit it. Keeping Cora in the dark wasn’t protecting her. It was just making it harder for her to protect herself.
“I’ll think about it,” Grayson finally said.
“Good,” Zane responded. “Because if you don’t, she’s gonna figure it out on her own, and trust me, you do not want to be on the receiving end of that conversation.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“Yeah, but you love me,” Zane said with a wink. “Now, finish your beer. You’re paying for the next round.”
Grayson shook his head, but for the first time in days, he felt as though he could tackle this situation. He didn’t have all the answers—hell, he didn’t have any of them—but maybe he was starting to figure out the right questions.
***
Later that night, Grayson reclined on the couch in Cora’s apartment with one arm slung over his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep.
The quiet of the apartment wasn’t unfamiliar now, but it grated on him tonight.
Cora was asleep in the next room, safe and sound, but he still couldn’t quiet his mind.
He huffed out a breath and adjusted his position, glaring at the ceiling.
Somewhere beyond the thin wall separating the living room from her bedroom, Cora was likely tossing and turning as well.
The thought of her just a few feet away stirred something in him that he didn’t dare name.
It was the same tug that had been pulling at him since the bond had locked them together—desire, yes, but more than that.
A craving for connection, for her presence, for the way she somehow made him feel both grounded and completely out of control.
Eventually, exhaustion won out, and he drifted into a restless sleep.
In his dream, Cora was standing at the edge of the training field with those lavender eyes alight with challenge. She smirked as she raised her hands, and magic sparked at her fingertips.
“Think you can keep up this time?” she teased.
Grayson advanced without answering, but his stupid, lovesick grin gave him away.
She didn’t back down. Her stance was confident, and she kept her attention locked on his.
He didn’t stop until they were a breath apart and the heat between them scorched.
When she tilted her chin up to meet his eyes, he was undone.
“Careful,” she mocked. “You might get burned.”
“You think I’m afraid of a little heat?” he countered, reaching for her waist.
The instant his fingers brushed her hip bones, she melted into him. The electric thrill of her skin against his seared through him, and when she leaned up to press her lips to his, it was fire, consuming and unabated, pulling him under until there was nothing left but her.
Her hands slid up his chest, fisting his shirt, and she moaned against his mouth. The sound shattered what was left of his control. He hauled her closer, and every instinct in his body was screaming that she was his. His mate. His match.
She broke the kiss and smiled with red and swollen lips. His hand came up to cup her cheek and stroke his thumb over her bottom lip. Her tongue darted out to meet the touch, and his breath stuttered.
She pulled his thumb into her mouth, sucking lightly, and he felt his entire world shift on its axis. He wanted her. Wanted all of her—every single thing she had to give, and then some.
With a low growl, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, her legs wrapping around his hips as he backed her up against the nearest tree.
Her lips were everywhere, on his neck, his collarbone, and she arched her back, pressing herself against him.
His mouth fell open as he struggled to keep his thoughts straight.
He needed her. All of her. Needed her naked and panting and writhing under him.
He needed to bury himself inside her, claim her, mark her.
His.
He woke with a jolt, and the dream dissolved like smoke. His breath came hard and fast, and his body was taut with frustration. The apartment was quiet, with the only sound being the faint ticking of a clock on the wall.
Grayson scrubbed a hand over his face, cursing under his breath.
His skin was still flushed, and the remnants of the dream clung to him like a second skin.
He didn’t need this—not now, not when his focus should be on keeping her safe.
Not when she was just a few feet away, sleeping soundly and completely unaware of the effect she had on him.
He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch. Sleeping wasn’t happening, not after that. He needed a distraction, something to burn off the restless energy jittering through his limbs.
Without a sound, he rose and grabbed his boots from beside the door. The night stretched long and silent as he stepped outside. The cool night air did little to calm the heat simmering beneath his skin, but at least out here, he could channel it into something useful.
Grayson moved along the property's perimeter, keeping an eye on every shadow and corner. The defenses he’d already set up around the bakery and Cora’s apartment were solid, but it wasn’t enough.
Not anymore. If Theodore and his people were truly closing in, she needed more than just a watchful eye.
She needed layers of protection, barriers that would buy him time if someone dared to get too close.
He started by reinforcing the wards that now surrounded the property, thanks to Elena’s talismans.
They weren’t his craft—shifters didn’t use magic—but Elena had assured him they’d hold if placed and activated properly.
He crouched by the base of a tree and pulled out one of the small, rune-etched stones she’d handed over earlier.
“The runes do the work,” Elena had explained. “Just plant them deep enough and speak the binding words. Even you can’t mess it up.”
Grayson pushed the talisman into the soil, muttering the unfamiliar Latin phrase she’d made him repeat until it stuck. A faint tug of energy rolled beneath his palm, confirming that the ward had taken root. He brushed the dirt from his hands and moved to the next tree.
By the time he finished double-checking the final ward was still in place, the sky had deepened into an inky black. He straightened and scanned the area again. Everything looked as it should, but the nagging feeling that something was off wouldn’t leave him.
He turned toward the alley beside the bakery, the one where someone had been stalking around the other night.
The quiet here felt too heavy. His senses stretched, searching for any hint of movement or sound.
A flicker of movement at the edge of his vision caught his attention, and he turned sharply, his body coiled and ready.
Nothing.
Grayson got closer to the spot where he thought he’d seen something. The shadows were deep here, but they didn’t feel empty. His wolf stirred, uneasy but not panicked. He circled the area, but after several minutes of searching, he found nothing out of place.
Still, the feeling lingered.
He made his way back to the apartment. It could have been nothing—a stray cat, a trick of his imagination—but he couldn’t afford to take chances. Not with Cora’s safety on the line.
When he stepped inside, the apartment was as he’d left it.
Quiet. Still. He locked the door behind him, leaned against it, and let out a slow breath.
His gaze drifted toward the closed door of Cora’s room.
He could picture her in there, tangled in her blankets, wearing nothing but those skimpy pajamas she wore every night.
The thought sent another jolt of longing through him, and he clenched his fists against it.
This was why he couldn’t afford to let the bond dictate his actions. She was too important—her safety, her life—too valuable to risk for his own selfish feelings. He’d protect her. He’d always protect her. But that was all he could allow himself to do.
Grayson dropped onto the couch again, and the tension in his chest refused to ease.
Outside, the faint rustle of leaves reached his ears, a quiet reminder that the world never truly rested.
Neither could he. Not until Theodore and his men were no longer a threat.
Not until Cora could live her life without looking over her shoulder.
And certainly not until he figured out how to quiet the fire she’d lit inside him.