Chapter 7
To say Macy was surprised to see Kaelen standing in her yard talking with Bruce was an understatement. She’d expected silence, not an audience, when she came back down.
She landed softly, feathers melting into skin as her body shifted. Straightening, she brushed her hair back and stepped toward them.
“I’m glad Crows come out clothed when they shift,” Bruce said, smirking as Kaelen’s eyes locked on Macy and refused to let go.
“So am I,” Macy replied evenly, her gaze fixed on Kaelen. “I didn’t expect company. What are you doing here?” The words came out sharper than she intended, but she honestly didn’t care.
Before Kaelen could answer, Bruce hopped down from the log with a little chuckle. “Oh, he’s here to chop your firewood. Been at it a while now. Not bad for a Wolfman with a guilty conscience.”
Macy blinked, caught off guard, while Kaelen shot Bruce a glare sharp enough to kill.
Bruce just stretched, tail flicking. “Don’t look at me like that, Wolfman.”
Macy’s eyes shifted to the neat stack of wood on her porch. Her brow furrowed before she turned back to Kaelen. “Why?”
“Because someone should make sure you’ve got enough to keep warm,” Kaelen said, his voice low but steady, no hesitation in it.
Her first instinct was to snap, to remind him she’d been on her own for years and didn’t need anyone swooping in to play savior. But the words stuck in her throat. The truth was, it felt…good. Almost too good having someone, hell, anyone, think of her needs instead of what they could take from her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, surprised by how soft her voice came out. Her gaze dropped, then lifted back to his. “But you didn’t have to do that.”
“Listen, I—” Kaelen started, but Bruce cut him off.
“Ah, wait a minute. Before things get…you know…mushy, I’m out.” The cat strutted toward the driveway as if he owned the place. Just as he passed Kaelen, he paused and looked up at him. “Don’t fuck this up, Wolfman.”
Kaelen growled low in his throat, eyes narrowing as he tracked Bruce’s retreating form. “I really hate that cat.”
Macy shot Bruce a glare of her own, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her with the hint of a grin. “He means well…most of the time.”
“Yeah, well—” Kaelen’s gaze snapped back to her. His golden eyes searched hers with a weight that made her shiver. He had a stare that seemed to see straight into your soul. “I…wanted to apologize,” he said, his voice rough.
“For what?” Macy asked, brows furrowed as she looked at him.
He dragged in a breath, his jaw flexing hard. “For dismissing you as if what you did for me didn’t matter.” His eyes burned into hers, fierce and unflinching. “You deserved better.”
“Yes, I did,” she said, her heart clenching so tightly it stole her breath.
She had wanted to hear those words, but hearing them from him nearly undid her.
Kaelen didn’t strike her as the kind of man who bent, not even for something as simple as an apology.
“And I appreciate it. I know that wasn’t easy for you. ”
The corner of his mouth tipped up, and hell, he was too handsome when he let himself soften like that. Then came a low, rumbling chuckle that wrapped around her like velvet, warm and dangerous.
“No, it wasn’t,” he admitted, the smile slipping as quickly as it had come. His voice dropped, steady and sincere. “But I meant it. I am sorry, Macy. No one has ever done for me what you did.”
Her cheeks heated, her throat going tight. She tried to brush it off, shifting on her feet like the words made her skin too small. “Yeah, well...the Crows aren’t exactly known for rolling out the welcome mat to outsiders. I should know.”
His frown deepened, golden eyes fixed on her as he crossed his arms. “But you’re one of them.”
A humorless laugh escaped her. “Only when they need something.” The bitterness in her voice surprised even her. “I haven’t lived with the Murder for years. I’m just expected to show my face when it suits them. Lucky you—tonight happened to be one of those times.”
She cleared her throat and looked toward her cabin, needing the distance, the distraction. “I take it Zelda doesn’t think you’re dangerous.”
His brow lifted. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you wouldn’t be here if she did.” She met his gaze evenly, her tone matter-of-fact. “Zelda’s a powerhouse, and Mac would never let anyone dangerous threaten those under his protection.”
“She asked me to stay until she can see if she can help me,” Kaelen said. His voice was steady, but he didn’t elaborate, and the silence after carried a weight she didn’t push against.
Macy nodded. If he wanted to share more, he would. She wouldn’t force it. With a sigh, she glanced back at her cabin. “Are you hungry?”
The startled look that crossed his face nearly made her smile. “What?” His golden eyes widened.
“Hungry,” she repeated, turning toward her porch. “I’m starving, and I doubt you’ve eaten anything. Werewolves eat...right?”
“You’re too trusting, Macy.” His frown cut into her lightness, halting her in her tracks. “You take me at my word too easily. How do you know I’m not lying? Zelda and Mac could have been my meal.”
Macy spun, one brow arched, a snort escaping before she could stop it. “And what would I be? Dessert?”
The second the words slipped free, she wanted to shove them back down her throat. But it was too late. His eyes locked on hers, heat flaring bright and sharp.
A slow smile curved his mouth, dangerous and devastating. “Dessert?” His voice rolled low, like gravel and silk. “Tempting.”
Her stomach dropped. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” he murmured, stepping closer, closing just enough of the space between them to make her heart hammer.
Macy’s breath caught. She forced herself not to back away, even as every nerve lit up under his gaze. Damn him.
“I am serious, Macy,” Kaelen said, turning serious once again. “Be careful who you trust. You know nothing about me.”
Macy turned and continued up the steps to her cabin. “Believe me when I say I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.” Macy opened the door, then looked back at him. “And so far, you haven’t given me a reason not to trust you.”
Macy paused just inside the door, glancing over her shoulder at him. Her blue eyes caught his golden ones, steady and unflinching.
“You think being a Werewolf makes you a monster? Trust me, Kaelen... I’ve met plenty of humans and Shifters who wear that title just fine.” Macy stopped just inside her kitchen and then turned to look at him. “Now, do you like breakfast food? I make a mean omelet.”
Macy knew that more than once she had shocked Kaelen, but what was new?
She shocked many people with her unconventional way of thinking.
She gave everyone the benefit of the doubt until they gave her a reason not to.
So far, other than Kaelen dismissing her as if she didn’t matter, he had done nothing to her except make her think and want things she shouldn’t.
“Omelet would be great.” Kaelen finally replied, then chuckled with a shake of his head. “You are definitely not like anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” Macy smirked as she started pulling food out of the fridge. “Now wash your hands so you can help. You know how to cook?”
“Yes, but I have a feeling if I didn’t, that wouldn’t matter.” Kaelen passed her to wash his hands.
Macy cracked eggs into a bowl, her hands moving automatically, though her thoughts scattered.
Kaelen leaned against the counter, his forearms resting casually yet carrying a tension beneath the surface.
For all his calm, he was a storm contained, an edge waiting to break loose.
And for reasons she couldn’t name, she wanted to be standing there when it did.
She pushed the thought away with a shake of her head, whisking eggs harder than necessary. “So, Mr. ‘I’m-a-monster,’” she said lightly, her tone teasing but her pulse betraying her. “Start frying up that bacon.”
That earned her another quiet laugh, deep and rich, the kind of sound that curled under her skin and lingered there. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he did what she asked.
For a fleeting moment, the heaviness of the past, the grief, the betrayals, and the sharp ache of loneliness seemed to blur. In its place was this: two unlikely souls standing shoulder to shoulder in a cramped kitchen, building something fragile out of eggs and silence.
Maybe, just maybe, it was the start of something neither of them had been ready for, and that thought terrified and yet excited Macy.