Chapter 26 This Feels Right
Thursday after school, Jackson drove us straight to his place for the study session. The gates of the compound opened for him without a pause. As we passed through I automatically checked the camera positions against the layout I had already memorized. Nothing had changed.
He pulled into the drive, killed the engine, and got out to take my bag before I could reach for it.
“I can carry my own bag.”
“I know you can.”
He carried it up the walk without another word. The moment we stepped inside, the quiet of the house hit me.
“Where is everyone?”
“Gone for the night.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “You cleared the whole place?”
“Figured we could use the quiet.”
We set up at the dining table with books and notebooks spread between us. Close enough that our elbows brushed whenever either of us moved. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of him without even trying.
I tried to focus. For a while I even managed it. Then I hit something that didn’t make sense.
“Wait,” I said, turning my notebook toward him. “How did you get that?”
He leaned in. The sudden closeness made my breath hitch before I could stop it.
“You missed this step,” he said, his voice lower now.
I followed his finger, but my attention slipped almost immediately. Not to the equation — to him. The way he smelled, clean with something deeper underneath. The warmth along my side when he shifted a fraction closer.
A shiver ran through me before I could stop it.
Jackson noticed. Of course he did. He went still, a quiet breath catching in his chest. Then he lowered his head toward my neck, slow and deliberate, giving me every chance to pull away.
I didn’t. Warm breath brushed my skin first, then the soft nuzzle of his nose.
My pulse skittered hard. I turned my head without thinking, and our mouths met.
The kiss was unhurried, deepening only when he slid an arm around my waist and lifted me into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.
When it finally broke, he didn't let me go.
He held me against his chest, his face lingering near my neck as he drew in a long, steady breath.
A low rumble vibrated through him, pleased and unrestrained.
When he pulled back his eyes were dark.
“I missed you,” he said.
“You see me every day.”
His hold on me tightened slightly. “It isn’t the same.”
My hand had come up to the back of his neck, my fingers in his hair, and his rumble shifted when I scratched there.
“My wolf…” He hesitated, then exhaled. “He wants to be closer.”
I rested my forehead against his temple. “Your wolf is dramatic.”
“He’s not the only one.”
I had no answer for that. His hand traced slow circles over my hip while the silence settled around us again.
“I won’t be at school tomorrow,” he said. “Pack business. But tomorrow night — come run with me.”
I almost asked. Then I didn’t. Questions invited questions, and I had too many answers I couldn’t give.
“Shifted?” I asked.
He nodded against me. “I’ll come to you.”
My cat was purring so hard against the inside of my ribs that I could barely hear myself think. I smiled, small but real. “Okay.”
He made a satisfied sound against my collarbone.
We stayed like that longer than I would admit to.
Eventually, I pulled back just enough to reach my notes and finished the methodology draft in his lap, his chin settled over my shoulder, one arm wrapped around my waist. He read along quietly.
At one point he reached past me and tapped a number I had miscalculated.
I hadn’t known intelligence could be so attractive until him.
When we finally packed up, the house felt even quieter than before. Jackson pulled the door closed behind us, then paused on the step.
"Forgot my jacket. One second." He slipped back inside.
I stopped beside the passenger door and waited. The air felt unnaturally still. A prickle ran along my spine, sharp and instinctive, the sense of being watched. I didn’t turn my head. Instead I let my eyes move carefully, scanning the nearby houses and the tree line without giving anything away.
Nothing. Just the usual quiet street and the whisper of leaves overhead.
The feeling stayed anyway.
The front door opened and Jackson came out with his jacket in hand. He locked up behind him and walked straight to the car. He opened the passenger door for me and waited until I was settled before circling around to the driver’s side.
He glanced at me as he turned the key. “You good?”
“Fine.”
He kept looking at me a beat longer, like he wasn’t fully convinced.
“Just tired,” I said.
He didn’t push. He backed out of the drive, and we cleared the gates of the compound a few minutes later. Only once pack territory had disappeared behind us did the unease in my spine finally start to fade.
Jackson dropped me at my door, kissed me once, and told me he would see me tomorrow night. He stayed at the curb until I was inside and the door closed behind me.
Back in my room I locked the door and pulled my laptop out. I scanned the last two days of John’s camera feeds at speed, only stopping when something moved. His routine matched everything I had already mapped. No new visitors. No deviations. Nothing that raised a flag.
I stared at the screen for another second, then closed the laptop.
It didn’t mean I relaxed.
The next evening Jackson appeared at my door with a suspiciously large package tucked under his arm. When he pulled it free, I had to stop and stare.
An oversized yarn ball. Practically the size of a basketball.
I lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth. “Figured your cat might like it.”
She did. Instantly. I felt her surge forward, intensely curious and already charmed by the ridiculous thing.
“You bought my cat a yarn ball,” I said dryly.
“I did.”
“One big enough to tackle.”
His eyes darkened with quiet amusement. “Size matters.”
I crossed my arms, fighting a smile. “She’s already half in love with you. You don’t need to bribe her.”
“I’m not bribing her.” He held my gaze, voice low. “I just wanted to bring something for the most beautiful mountain lion I’ve ever seen.”
The words landed low and warm. Inside me, my cat purred.
I let out a soft breath and shook my head. “Come on. Let’s go before someone sees you carrying that thing.”
We walked into the forest hand in hand, the ridiculous yarn ball tucked under Jackson’s arm. My cat was practically vibrating with anticipation, but even through her excitement she caught it first. The stiffness in his shoulders. The rigid set of his jaw.
Something’s wrong, she pressed, clear and insistent.
I didn’t ask. If he wanted to talk, he would.
When we were deep enough into the trees, I shifted first. My cat dropped onto four paws, shook out her coat, and stretched long through her spine.
Jackson crouched and held out a hand. She went to him immediately, no hesitation.
He ran his palm along her back and she pressed into the contact, rubbing her scent along his arm and shoulder with slow, deliberate pleasure.
He picked up the yarn ball and held it out. Her eyes locked onto it at once. The moment he rolled it forward she pounced hard, batting it through the leaves in a scatter of dirt and pine needles. His laugh followed her, warm and low.
He shifted a moment later. The big wolf stood where the man had been, watching her play with open interest before he circled once and dropped his front legs in a clear invitation to chase. She cuffed him lightly on the ear with one paw and bolted into the trees.
He came after her. She let him catch her, and they tumbled through the leaves until she was on her back with his teeth gentle at her throat and her hind paws braced against his belly. She twisted out from under him and ran again, and he chased again, the rhythm easy and familiar.
They ran until their sides heaved and the first edge of tiredness set in. Together they made their way back toward the clearing where their clothes waited. As the trees thinned they slowed, and the shift came easily, steam rising from bare skin in the cold air.
I got dressed quickly while Jackson did the same beside me.
He pulled his shirt over his head, pushed his hair back, then crossed the few steps between us without a word.
His arms came around me, drawing me against his chest. He was still warm from the run, all heat and steady breaths, and I listened to his heartbeat gradually settle beneath my ear as the last of the wild energy drained away.
After a long moment, he bent to retrieve the yarn ball, brushed the leaves and dirt from it, and tucked it under his arm. Then we started back through the dark trees. I glanced at him as we walked. His shoulders were looser now, most of the earlier tension gone.
“You seem better,” I said. “You were tense earlier.”
He exhaled slowly. “I needed the run. My wolf did too.”
“What happened?”
He hesitated, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “My father summoned me this afternoon.”
I waited.
“He’s chosen a wife for me,” he said, voice flat. “An arranged marriage. He already started the negotiations without telling me. Showed up with a whole folder — photographs, background, everything.”
My stomach twisted, but I kept my voice even. “Who is she?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It might matter to her.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Selene. From a pack two states over. He says it’s strategic. Claims he’s been planning it for over a year.”
“And you told him?”
“I told him no.”
“How did he react?”
“He didn’t, not really.” Jackson looked away for a moment. “Just told me to think about it and started listing everything that was supposedly on the table. He doesn’t take no very well.”
We walked in silence for a few steps. Of course Thomas was behind this — the same man who destroyed my family was now trying to control Jackson’s future too.
“Does he do this often?” I asked.