Chapter 24
Thursday afternoon at The Roost had become something of a ritual. My favorite table by the window, a cup of tea, a stack of assignments to grade. The autumn light filtering through the glass, painting everything in shades of gold.
I’d made it through most of Tyler’s problem set—still struggling with vector notation, bless his heart—when the door chimed.
My head lifted automatically, the way it always did now.
Axel. I exhaled at the welcome sight of him, trying to ignore the flutter in my belly.
The memories of how hard he made me come last night.
He filled the doorway the way he always did, broad shoulders blocking out the afternoon sun. His eyes found mine immediately, that invisible thread between us pulling taut. He gave me a slight nod, then made his way to the counter.
Iris brightened when she saw him. “Axel! Your usual?”
“Yes, thank you.”
I watched them interact—Iris’s slightly flushed cheeks, the way she lingered over making his coffee, the bright smile she gave him when she handed over his chocolate-chocolate-chunk cookie. He barely seemed to notice, already turning toward me.
Warmth settled in my chest as he approached.
This man. This impossible, wonderful man.
Last night’s tension had melted into something softer by morning—a kiss pressed to my temple when he handed me my coffee, his hand lingering at my back as I headed out the door.
A kiss on the back of my hand when he said goodbye after taking me to campus.
Small touches. Careful ones. Like he was testing the waters after our argument. After I’d chosen to trust him anyway.
I liked it. Maybe too much.
“Ready to go?” He stood over my table, cookie in one hand, coffee in the other.
“Just about.” I shuffled my papers together, tucking them into my bag. “Let me just get everything together.”
I stood, ready to shoulder my bag when Axel shuffled his cookie to the hand holding his coffee and grabbed it, shouldering it instead.
“Such a gentlemen,” I teased. But now I knew he was—truly. Especially knowing how old he was.
That thought settled heavy on me. He’d come from a different time. A different world, really.
We made our way to the door. He opened it, of course, balancing his coffee and cookie.
“See you Saturday, Becca!” Iris called from behind the counter, just before I slipped out.
“Sure thing! Can’t wait.”
Axel’s eyes narrowed as we approached his truck. He unlocked it and opened the door for me. “Saturday?”
“Yep!” I hopped in and buckled up, reaching for my bag. “The Fall Fling.”
I could feel Axel’s gaze burning into the side of my face. He didn’t move. Just stood there, one eyebrow raised as he digested this. “You’re going to that thing?”
My lips parted. “It’s the Fall Fling! Everyone’s talking about it. An event to celebrate literally my favorite time of the year. Of course I’m going. I promised Iris I’d meet her there. She offered to pick me up but your place is a little out of the way and I know how you are about your privacy.”
“You were going to go alone.”
“I was going to meet Iris there. That’s not alone.”
“That’s alone.” His voice was a low growl. “Blackthorn is still out there. You think he doesn’t know about this festival? Or how much you love autumn? The whole bloody town’s been talking about it for weeks.”
“Axel—“
“You’re not going alone.”
“I won’t be alone. Iris—“
“Is human. Can’t protect you from a witch.”
Neither could he, but now didn’t seem like the best time to point that out.
I glanced up through the windshield and my eyes caught on Iris standing at the counter in The Roost. She was staring straight out the window.
At us. At Axel, who still had his coffee and cookie in one hand, the other braced on the door as he scowled down at me.
She was scowling, too. Probably wondering why he was just standing there instead of getting in the truck.
I pulled my gaze away and said, “So what, I’m supposed to just hide inside your cabin forever? Never do anything normal?” My frustration bubbled up. “Moving here was supposed to be a new life for me. I’m making friends. I refuse to let Ambrose take that away.”
“I’m not asking you to hide.” He exhaled and his shoulders dropped. “I’m asking you to let me come with you.”
“To the Fall Fling?”
“Aye.”
“You. At a crowded harvest festival. With live music and dancing and hundreds of people.”
His jaw clenched. “I can handle it.”
“Axel, you hate crowds. You literally live in the middle of nowhere specifically to avoid people.”
“I hate the idea of you unprotected more.”
The words hung between us. Simple. Direct. Utterly sincere.
I studied his face—the hard set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand gripped the door like he was physically restraining himself.
“It’s going to be loud,” I warned. “And crowded. And there will be children running around hopped up on apple cider and candy. Booths. Activities. And I’m going to want to experience all of it. If you can’t handle that—”
“I’ll survive.”
“You might have to dance with me.” I lifted a brow, teasing.
Something shifted in his expression. The tension didn’t leave, but something else crept in alongside it. “That so?”
“It’s a fall festival, Axel. There’s a whole barn dance thing. It would be weird if we just stood there.”
“Suppose I could manage a dance or two.”
“With other people watching.”
“Let them watch.” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “Let them see you’re mine.”
My heart stuttered. There was that word again. Mine. But this time he didn’t take it back. Didn’t amend it or qualify it or slap an expiration date on it.
“Okay,” I said softly.
“Okay?”
“You can come. But if you get overwhelmed—“
“I won’t.”
“But if you do, you’ll tell me. Deal?”
He held my gaze for a long moment, then nodded once. “Deal.”
He finally slammed the door, rounded the truck, and got inside. He set his coffee in the holder and put his cookie bag on his lap to buckle up. Then he put the truck in reverse, pulling out of the parking spot. As we drove out of town, I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips.
Axel at a harvest festival. This was going to be interesting.
He ate his cookie and sipped his coffee while he drove. Me, on the other hand, I gazed out the window, already rethinking the outfit I wanted to wear. Because if Axel was going to be my date, then I wanted to drive him crazy. And that meant I needed to be strategic.
Saturday afternoon, I stood in front of Axel’s bathroom mirror, second-guessing myself for the fifth time.
The morning had been good. Better than good, actually. We’d made another attempt at the cave, and Axel had lasted a full hour before I saw the signs creeping in—the tight jaw, the shallow breathing, the way his eyes kept darting to the shadows. I’d called it before he had to, and he hadn’t argued.
Progress!
We went a full hour. Deeper than we’d ever been. Which meant we were getting closer. I could feel it.
The last two days had passed quickly. Axel had been...softer. More open. Stealing kisses when I walked past him in the kitchen. Pulling me against him on the couch while we watched the fire. Holding my hand during our drive to campus Friday like it was the most natural thing in the world.
There hadn’t been any more messing around, though. Not since Wednesday night. But the distance from the beginning of the week? Gone. Replaced by something that felt almost like dating. Like we were a real couple figuring things out.
Tonight definitely felt like a date. Our first real one, if I was being honest.
I smoothed down my skirt one more time. It was a burgundy skater style piece that came mid-thigh—short enough to be flirty, long enough to be appropriate for a family event.
I’d paired it with sheer black tights and a chunky cream sweater that was cozy but fitted, showing off my curves without being obvious about it.
My ankle boots with a low heel completed the look, ideal for dancing and walking around on uneven ground.
I’d curled my hair, let it fall loose around my shoulders. Added a bit more makeup than usual—some mascara, a touch of blush, a berry lip that matched my skirt. All in all, I looked...good. Festive. Like someone who had a date to the Fall Fling with a gorgeous, complicated werewolf.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the main room.
And promptly forgot how to breathe.
Axel stood by the fireplace, and he looked...
God.
He looked like something out of a magazine.
Or a fantasy.
Dark jeans that fit him perfectly. A charcoal button-down that stretched across his shoulders, the fabric straining just enough to hint at the muscles underneath.
He’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows—of course he had—showing off those forearms that did things to me.
His hair was brushed back from his face, still a little wild but intentional now.
And his beard—he’d trimmed it close, neat, framing that sharp jaw in a way that made my mouth water.
The scar cutting across his face didn’t diminish anything. If anything, it made him look dangerous. Powerful. Like someone you didn’t want to mess with.
Like someone who could protect you from anything.
“Wow,” I managed.
His gaze tracked down my body and went dark. “Fuck me.”
“Good fuck me or bad fuck me?” I grinned because I already knew the answer.
“You’re wearing that?” His voice had dropped an octave.
“That’s the plan.” I did a little spin, letting the skirt flare. “What do you think?”
His eyes fixed on my legs. On the sheer black tights that covered them but left absolutely nothing to the imagination. I watched his throat bob as he swallowed.
“You’re going to freeze.” It sounded like an excuse.
“I’ll be fine. The barn is heated, and we probably won’t be outside visiting the booths for too long. Plus, my sweater is warm.”
“You should cover up. Wear pants. Or a longer skirt.”
I bit back a grin. “Should I?”