Chapter 23
The coffee maker gurgled in the background as Axel poured two mugs, his back to me. I watched him from my spot at the island, chin propped on my hand, still wearing the oversized sleep shirt I’d claimed as my own. His shirt. One of many, now.
He set a mug in front of me without comment. Without letting our fingers brush. Without that little smile he usually gave me in the mornings.
Monday felt like a lifetime ago, but it had only been yesterday since he’d called me “mine” and then amended the words, putting an expiration date on them. It had hurt more than I cared to admit. Which is why I’d closed the bedroom door last night without inviting him in.
He hadn’t pushed. Hadn’t knocked. Hadn’t done anything except respect my wishes, giving me space to process.
So why did that feel so awful?
“Eggs?” He was already at the stove, reaching for the carton.
“Sure. Thanks.”
Polite. Careful. Like we were roommates instead of...whatever we were.
Basil chose that moment to thump loudly from his enclosure, demanding attention. I turned to look and found both bunnies pressed against the acrylic, watching us with their little noses twitching.
“Already fed them,” Axel said without turning around. “Did their boxes too.”
“You didn’t have to—“
“Wanted to.”
Sparse words. That was all I’d gotten since we returned last night. Short sentences. Practical information. The bare minimum of communication.
Needing to move, I got up and opened the enclosure to give the buns some free roam time, then returned to the island.
I wrapped my hands around my mug, letting the warmth seep into my fingers.
The cabin smelled like coffee and woodsmoke, autumn creeping through the seams of the windows.
October had settled in properly now. The trees on our drive to campus had exploded into color—burnt orange and deep crimson and bright gold.
Normally it would have made my heart sing.
Today it just made me tired.
My phone buzzed on the counter. I glanced at the screen.
Elle
Any cave progress this weekend?? Dying for updates
Right. I hadn’t updated her since Saturday’s attempt. Before everything went sideways at my office and derailed my day. Before Axel sat through my lectures like a growly, overprotective gargoyle. Before he called me his and then reminded me it was only temporary.
I typed back quickly, keeping the phone tilted away from Axel. Not that I was hiding anything. It just felt...private. Elle was my space. My friend from before all this.
Me
Much better. Got maybe 40 min in before we turned back. Real progress.
I considered telling her about my office, but that was better left for a phone call.
Elle
Yes!! At this rate you’ll reach the chamber soon. Once you have the witchbone knife, the Blackthorns lose all their leverage. You’re going to kick this curse’s ass!
Me
That’s the hope.
Elle
How are things otherwise? You and the grumpy wolf figure your shit out yet?
I glanced up at Axel’s broad back, at the way he moved efficiently through the kitchen, plating eggs and toast. He cared about me. I knew that. He showed it in a hundred small ways—the meals, the decorations, the way he’d sat through hours of physics lectures just to keep me safe.
But caring wasn’t the same as choosing. And me? I wanted to be chosen.
Me
Still complicated.
Elle
Ugh. Men. Call me later this week?
Me
Will do.
I tucked my phone away as Axel set a plate in front of me. The eggs were perfect, as always. A sprinkle of herbs from his greenhouse. Fresh toast with butter. A small bowl of cut fruit on the side.
He took the seat beside me, maintaining a careful distance.
We ate in silence.
Time blurred together after that.
Tuesday’s lectures went smoothly enough. Wednesday’s lab session ran long when Tyler needed extra help understanding vector components to work out the math for his acceleration tests. Dev stayed after to discuss the upcoming exam, and Sonny nearly took out a row of stools with his skateboard.
Normal. All of it—achingly normal.
Except for the parts that weren’t.
Axel drove me to campus each morning, walked me to my first class, picked me up each afternoon.
He sat in the back of my lecture halls like a silent sentinel, arms crossed, daring anyone to look at me wrong.
My students had started whispering about him—the mysterious, scarred man who showed up every day.
A few theories had circulated. Bodyguard.
Jealous boyfriend. Witness protection handler.
I didn’t correct any of them. I also didn’t tell him to stay home. Which meant my poor buns weren’t getting the free roam time they needed in the mornings. I tried to make up for it in the evenings with extra toys and plenty of time to wander around before bed. But…I still felt a little guilty.
Temporary, I reminded myself. It was just temporary. They were loved, and spoiled, and they would deal.
At home—because that’s what the cabin had become—we maintained our careful choreography. Axel cooked. I graded papers. The bunnies demanded attention and treats. We existed in the same space without really touching.
It was maddening, especially because I was to blame.
I’d shut him down after the “mine” moment.
I’d gone silent on him, closed the bedroom door making it clear I was hurt.
Making it clear I wanted space. That’s what he was giving me.
The question was, who would budge first?
Was it my call? Was I the one who needed to make the next move? Or him?
Vera called Wednesday afternoon while I was in between lecture and lab, still furious about the office break-in. I’d sent her a few texts Monday and Tuesday. As an ER nurse, she worked twelve hour shifts, sometimes longer, and it was hard for our schedules to align.
“I’m booking a flight,” she threatened. “I’m going to find Ambrose and—“
“Vee, no. I’m safe. I promise.”
“You’re staying with some random wolf you barely know!”
“He’s not random. And I know him better than you think.”
She made a skeptical noise. “Becs, I just... I worry about you. All alone out there.”
“I’m not alone. That’s the point.”
We talked for another twenty minutes. She extracted a promise that I’d call her immediately if anything else happened. I extracted a promise that she wouldn’t do anything drastic without consulting me first.
Sisters.
By the end of Wednesday’s work day, the tension in my chest was wound so tight I could barely breathe.
The leaves outside my office window—my temporary office, borrowed from a colleague on sabbatical—blazed with color.
Students walked by in cozy sweaters and boots, clutching pumpkin-spiced everything.
Signs for the Fall Fling had appeared on every bulletin board, every lamppost.
Saturday. I blinked, coming back to myself. The Fall Fling was Saturday.
I still hadn’t told Axel. Iris and I had made plans to meet there. It was something to look forward to. Something normal and fun and completely unrelated to curses or caves or complicated werewolves who couldn’t decide if they wanted me long term or not.
I needed this.
Axel was waiting in the parking lot when I emerged from my office. Same spot—the no parking zone. Same brooding expression.
But when I climbed in, something felt different.
He didn’t immediately pull out of the lot. Just sat there, hands on the wheel, looking straight ahead.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Aye.” A pause. “Don’t like the distance between us.”
I blew out a breath. Because neither did I. And it looked like he was making the first move to amend that—something I was incredibly grateful for. “Me either.”
“Made something special for dinner.”
I blinked. “Special? Axel, everything you cook is special.”
He picked at the wheel’s stitching with the tip of his thumbnail. “Thought you might like it more than the others. Maybe.”
Was he…nervous? Damn it. Why did I find that so endearing?
His jaw worked, like the words were costing him something. “Been a long week and we’re only half through.”
Understatement of the century. But the fact that he’d noticed, that he’d done something about it...
“That sounds really nice.” My words were soft. “I love the idea of a special dinner.”
He nodded once and then backed up, navigating us out of the lot and then town.
I kept my gaze out the window the entire drive. Soft folk music played in the background, the radio turned low. It was…perfect. Autumn was my favorite season and this was the place to spend it. In fact, I didn’t really want to spend it anywhere else ever again.
The trees were too stunning. It made my heart full and warm. The promise of crisp air, Halloween approaching, and then the holidays. The reprieve after a sweltering summer.
It was just…the best season.
The cabin came into view as the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. Smoke curled from the chimney. The porch lights were already on, illuminating the pumpkins and hay bales, the twinkling string lights and lanterns he’d put up for me.
When I stepped inside, I stopped dead.
The dining table—which we rarely used, preferring the island—was set with beautiful place settings.
Cloth napkins. Wine glasses. Candles flickering in the center, casting warm shadows across the room.
The bunnies were in their enclosure, already fed from the looks of their empty pellet bowls, contentedly munching hay.
“Axel...”
“It’s nothing fancy.” He moved toward the kitchen, his back to me. “Just thought we could use a proper meal. Together.”
My throat went tight. “What’s the occasion?”
I was fishing. Hoping he’d says something like, I changed my mind. Or, let’s make this thing more permanent between us.
He paused, one hand on the refrigerator door. When he spoke, his voice was rough. “Do I need an occasion to feed my—“ He stopped. Swallowed. “To feed you?”
My hopes fell, but I decided not to push. Not yet.
“Can I help with anything?”
“Already done. Just need to plate it. Go wash up. Relax.”