16. James
James
I didn’t realize how quiet it had gotten until Rafael went still beside me.
We were halfway back from a supply run, the sun dipping low behind us. The asphalt still held the warmth of the day, but the breeze had turned cool and sharp.
We’d taken the alley behind Bear & Bun as a shortcut, still laughing about Cyrus’ latest croissant disaster.
He’d tried to flavor them with lavender and lemon zest but ended up with something that tasted like soap. We were making plans for dinner. I figured something greasy, probably burgers.
I was thinking about how nice it’d be to curl up on Rafael’s couch with our feet tangled together and cartoons playing in the background.
I remember the scent of yeast and sugar still clinging to Rafael’s hoodie. The weight of his hand brushing mine. That particular brand of quiet peace that only came with him.
It had been a good day, until it wasn’t. Rafael’s whole body went tense like a wire stretched too tight.
His stride slowed, and a low growl rumbled up from deep in his chest. It vibrated through the air like the first crack of a coming storm.
“What is it?” I asked, even though part of me already knew.
We weren’t alone.
I caught it next. A scent riding the wind. Not familiar. Not friendly. Feral. Foreign. Oil and sweat and smoke and power. Predatory, heavy with aggression.
My wolf bristled beneath my skin, hackles rising.
Rafael stepped in front of me without a word just as three figures slid out of the shadows ahead of us like oil slicks. Two more flanked us from behind, boxing us in.
Five.
Big men. Thick-necked and broad-shouldered. Covered in tattoos that looked more like warnings than art.
Shifters, all of them. Definitely not locals. Their grins stretched too wide. Too hungry.
“Well, well,” one of them said, voice sharp and high like a hyena’s laugh. Coyote, maybe. Lean build. Crooked teeth that caught the light. “Look what we have here. Lovebirds out for a stroll.”
Rafael didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His hand flexed at his side, claws half-shifting, his body already a wall between them and me.
“You don’t want to do this,” he said, voice low and deadly calm.
Another shifter stepped forward, heavier set with scars down one side of his face like claw marks that never healed right.
“See, it’s not about wanting. Orders are orders. We’re just here to deliver a mesSean.”
“You delivered it,” Rafael said. “Now back off.”
Crooked Teeth tsked, wagging a finger. “Not quite. The boss said to make it memorable.”
Then they moved. It was chaos.
Rafael roared, half-shifted now, his claws fully formed. He lunged first, slamming into the nearest guy and tearing through him like he was made of paper.
Blood sprayed across the alley wall. The shifter howled, collapsed. But the others didn’t falter.
Two flanked Rafael from either side, slamming into him with the force of wrecking balls. One caught him in the ribs, the other punched low.
Rafael staggered but didn’t fall. His bear took over and it was pure fury, wild and brutal.
He fought like something out of a nightmare. There was no hesitation, no mercy. He caught one by the collar and slammed him into a dumpster so hard it dented.
Another came at him with a tire iron and got his arm broken at the elbow with a single swing of Rafael’s clawed hand. But there were too many of them.
While Rafael handled two, the others regrouped. A baton came out. It was made of metal, humming with electricity, and they circled like jackals around a wounded lion.
I tried to move, to help, to do something, but a hand grabbed my collar from behind and slammed me into the brick wall hard enough to rattle my teeth.
The breath rushed out of me in a painful gasp.
“Stay down, sweetheart,” the coyote said, leaning in close. His breath stank of meat and cigarettes. “This ain’t about you. Well actually. It is.”
That’s when the truth hit. This was because of me.
Avery had sent them. Of course he had. New muscle. He’d escalate probably after Callum, Beau and the others gave him a warning. And now, now they’d come not to collect, but to punish.
I watched in horror as one of the shifters lunged forward, baton crackling with sparks, and jammed it into Rafael’s side.
The scream he let out…I’ll never forget it.
Rafael dropped to one knee, blood bubbling at his lips. He still tried to rise. Still tried to protect me.
“No!” I screamed, trying to wrench free, but I was slammed back against the wall again.
“You don’t get it, do you?” the coyote sneered. “We’re not here to kill him. Just break him enough that you listen.”
I surged forward anyway, fists flying. Stupid. Reckless. I caught the coyote in the chin, heard the crack of teeth. And then his fist hit me, low in the gut. Hard.
The alley spun. I dropped like a stone.
“Easy now,” he said, crouching over me. His fingers gripped my shirt. “We’re just here to make sure the mesSean is clear.”
Behind him, I saw Rafael struggling to get up again. He was bleeding badly now. One eye swollen shut. Chest heaving. But he still looked at me. He still tried.
“The said he was given two days to leave. We give you seven days,” the coyote whispered. “One week. Payment. In full. Or next time? We bring knives. Start carving off little souvenirs.”
Then they were gone. Fading into the shadows like ghosts. No sign they’d ever been there, except the blood. So much blood.
I crawled to Rafael, hands shaking. “Raf? Rafael. Hey, stay with me. Stay with me, please.”
His eyes opened, unfocused. “James…?”
“I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay,” I whispered.
He coughed, blood staining his lips. “Are you… hurt?”
I choked on a sob. “No. No, I’m fine. But you shouldn’t have…why did you?”
He didn’t answer. Just reached for me, hand slick and warm with blood.
I pressed mine over his. “Hold on, okay? Just hold on.”
I fumbled my phone out of my pocket, fingers trembling so badly I could barely unlock the screen. My hands were slick with Rafael’s blood, smearing across the glass.
I finally hit the call button with the edge of my knuckle, pressing it to my ear like it was the only thing tethering me to reality.
“Callum,” I choked out when he answered. “It’s bad. We’re behind Bear & Bun. Rafael’s hurt. He’s bleeding, they ambushed us. Just get here, please.”
My voice cracked somewhere in the middle, raw and strained. I couldn’t even remember what else I said.
“We’re on our way,” Callum said, ending the call.
Then it was just me and Rafael and the blood soaking into the cracked pavement.
I sank to the ground fully, drawing Rafael’s head into my lap as gently as I could. My hands were shaking, useless.
I tried to press my hoodie against the wound at his side, but it wouldn’t stop bleeding. The dark stain spread and spread. My chest hollowed out as panic set in, a deep, swallowing pit.
“Raf?” My voice was small. I didn’t recognize it. “Hey. Stay with me, okay? You’ve gotta stay with me.”
His eyes fluttered. His brow creased like he was in a dream he couldn’t quite shake.
“You’re… still here,” he muttered, voice gravelly and faint.
“Of course I’m here,” I whispered. “Where else would I be?”
He tried to shift again, instinct maybe, but his body jerked and he groaned, muscles seizing with pain. I placed a hand on his chest, right above his heart.
“Don’t move. Help’s coming. You’re gonna be okay,” I told him.
But I didn’t know if that was true. The blood kept coming. I couldn’t stop it, and it was my fault.
I sat there in the dirt, cradling him with my shaking arms, heart pounding so violently I thought I might pass out. My mind kept circling the same thoughts, the same sickening truth.
This was on me. They came for him because they couldn’t touch me the way they wanted to. Because Rafael had made it clear I wasn’t alone anymore. I mattered to him.
Because he stood between me and everything Avery had been threatening since the moment he slithered into my life. They hurt him because of me.
It was my name on that damn contract. My brother’s signature might’ve been on the original debt, but I was the one who kept it alive. Who paid it. Who kept the secret. Who let it fester.
And my stupid, brave, and infuriating Rafael, he’d put his body between me and the fallout. Without hesitation. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
The guilt pressed on my chest like a weight I couldn’t lift. Every drop of blood soaking into the ground beneath us screamed a truth I couldn’t run from: I thought I could handle it.
Thought I could keep it contained, keep it from touching anyone else. I’d thought it was over.
After Callum and the others found Avery. After they confronted him. After they warned him to leave Sugarpaw Springs.
I wanted to believe that had been enough. I needed to believe it. But this?
This was Avery’s answer.
This was a mesSean. He had no plans of leaving. He’d never planned to walk away. No, he was escalating. Pushing back harder now that he knew I had backup.
Now that he knew someone actually cared about me, and I had let my guard down.
I looked down at Rafael again. His skin was pale beneath the copper smears of blood. His breathing shallow, his body trembling with every intake of air.
He was a fortress of a man. My bear was strong and stubborn, but he was human too. Mortal. Breakable. And Avery had broken him to make a point.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, brushing a blood-matted curl from his forehead. “I’m so damn sorry.”
His lips twitched, just barely. “Don’t… cry,” he rasped, voice rough and barely more than breath.
“I’m not crying,” I lied, the words thick in my throat, barely held together by sheer will.
But the tears betrayed me anyway. They tracked down my cheek, hot and relentless, carving lines through the grime and dried blood.
I could taste salt on my lips, feel the tight ache in my chest every time I tried to hold the next sob back. How could he be worried about me? Me?
He was the one who had nearly bled out in my arms, the one whose blood still stained my skin.
His lashes fluttered against bruised skin, his breathing shallow, chest rising and falling like it hurt with every inhale. And yet… he was worried about me.
That cracked something in me wide open.
“You’re unbelievable,” I whispered, brushing my fingers lightly through his hair, careful not to disturb the cut along his temple. “You’re half-dead, and you're telling me not to cry?”
His eyes fluttered open, just a sliver. But it was enough. Enough for me to see the flicker of emotion there. The pain. The worry. The stubborn affection that refused to fade, even now.
He made a sound that might’ve been a laugh or a groan. Maybe both.
A flicker of movement caught my eye, and then Callum was there, crouching beside me, his face tight with fury and worry.
Beau followed right behind him, followed by Cass, already unzipping a first aid kit.
“Crap,” Beau breathed when he saw Rafael’s injuries.
“He needs a healer. He needs someone now,” I said, trying not to sound hysterical. “They stabbed him. With something. Some kind of stun weapon too.”
“We’ve got him,” Callum said, his voice steady. “You did good, James. You kept him awake.”
I wanted to scream I didn’t do good, I failed, but I swallowed it. I couldn’t afford to fall apart now.
They worked quickly. Cass pressed gauze against the wound while Callum radioed for transport, his voice clipped and lethal.
Rafael groaned once when they shifted him onto a stretcher, but he didn’t fully wake. I didn’t let go of his hand until the last possible second.