Chapter 5 #2
“Can you?” Damien’s attention returned to Lily. “Are you bringing trouble to this island Miss Mitchell?”
The question hung in the air. She wanted to lie. Wanted to say no, she was safe, no one was coming. But Damien would smell the lie.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I hope not.”
“That’s not reassuring.” Damien looked between them again, clearly weighing his options. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. You can stay—for now. But Gray? This is on you. Any trouble she brings, you handle it. And if you can’t...” He let the threat hang unfinished.
“Understood,” Gray said.
“Good.” Damien headed for the door, then paused. “And Gray? The full moon’s coming soon. Might want to get your... situation sorted before then. Wolves get unpredictable during the harvest moon. Especially unmated males who’ve found their match.”
He left without another word, and the brewhouse felt too quiet, too close. This wasn’t over. Damien would be back and he would demand more details…soon.
"What did he mean?" Lily asked. "About the full moon?"
Gray ran a hand through his hair. This conversation was happening whether or not he wanted it. "Wolves are... affected by the full moon. Stronger. More primal. Less controlled."
"And unmated males?"
"Are fucking insufferable." He turned to face her fully. "Especially when our wolves have decided they've found their mate."
Her eyes widened. "He thinks I'm your—"
"My wolf thinks it." The admission felt ripped from his chest. "Has since you walked in. Which is impossible, because you're a witch, you’re lying to me about why you’re here, and I don’t know what danger you pose to the pack."
She was quiet for a moment, processing. Then, soft as morning mist she asked, “What do you think?”
The question gutted him. Because his human side was just as fucked as his wolf. Despite the lies, despite the danger, despite every rational reason to send her away—he wanted her here. Wanted her safe.
"I think you're going to be the death of me," he said honestly.
She surprised him by laughing, a small and sad sound but real. "That seems to be my specialty. Bringing disaster wherever I go."
"What are you running from, Lily?"
She met his eyes, and for a second, he thought she'd tell him. Until one of the other workers came in, needing help with a delivery, and the moment shattered.
"Tonight," she breathed. "After closing. I'll tell you everything. Just... give me today to figure out how."
He nodded, though his wolf pushed for answers now. "Tonight then."
They returned to their work, the tension different now. It was charged with possibility rather than just suspicion. She hummed while she worked, and he let himself enjoy it. When their hands brushed reaching for equipment, neither pulled away quite as fast.
The beer they made was perfect. Not magically enhanced this time, he was watching for that now, but perfect in the way two people in sync could create something better together than alone.
Ryker came in around noon. "Boss, the new autumn blend is selling faster than we can bottle it."
"Good." Gray was watching Lily add finishing hops, the way she cradled them like something precious. "Double the next batch."
"Already on it. But… There’s more to it than that. I tasted today’s offering and it’s different than before. It’s really good… Exceptional even. I think the new girl's doing more than you thought. Even the earlier batches taste better with her around."
Ryker leaned against the doorframe. "Have you tried the autumn ale we tapped this morning?"
Gray hadn't. He'd been too focused on keeping his hands off Lily to think about anything else.
"Go pull yourself a sample," Ryker said. "The one we kegged yesterday."
Gray moved to the tap, aware of Lily watching him from across the brew floor. The pour looked normal. Clear amber, good head. He brought the glass to his nose and went still.
This batch had been finishing when Lily walked through his door. Standard autumn ale. Solid but nothing different than from before. He'd signed off on it himself.
He took a drink.
Every note sang. The spices didn't just complement each other, they harmonized. The malt carried depth it hadn't possessed before.
"She never touched that batch," Ryker said. "It was already kegged before she got here. But somehow it tastes like she brewed it herself."
Gray looked at Lily over the rim of his glass. Her eyes had gone wide, like she was just realizing the extent of what her presence was doing. Not just when she lost control. All the time.
His wolf stirred with satisfaction. She was making everything better just by being here.
Ryker grinned at him. "Like I said, the normal batches taste different with her around."
Lily flushed but kept working. Despite his concerns, or because of them, Gray felt uncomfortable pride at the praise—possessive and protective in equal measure.
"She knows what she's doing," he said.
Ryker grinned. "Yeah, I can see that. Both of you know exactly what you're doing."
Gray frowned. "Don't you have work to do?"
"Sure, sure." Ryker headed out, throwing over his shoulder, "But, boss? That thing Damien said about the full moon? He's not wrong. Might want to sort this out before your wolf sorts it for you."
When they were alone again, Lily asked, "Would he really? Your wolf? Does he sort stuff without you?"
Gray watched her test the specific gravity, those careful hands steady despite everything. "He might try."
"And what would that mean?"
He moved closer, unable to help himself. Close enough to smell her magic, her fear, her arousal all mixed together. "It would mean claiming you whether you wanted it or not. Marking you. Making sure everyone knew you were mine."
Her breath hitched. "That sounds..."
"Primitive? Possessive? Completely fucked up?"
"I was going to say intense."
He laughed, dark and bitterly. "That's one word for it."
She turned to face him, and they were close. Her lips parted, and he tracked the movement, imagining how she'd taste. Like autumn and magic and his.
"Gray, I—"
"Boss?" Another worker. Another interruption. All a reminder that this was a workplace, not a den, no matter what his wolf thought.
They sprang apart, returning to their tasks. But the air stayed charged between them. Every movement, every breath, and every accidental touch building toward something inevitable.
As the afternoon wore on, Lily's humming grew stronger. His wolf settled under the sound, content in a way it hadn't been since Ash died.
Dangerous. This was all so fucking dangerous.
But when she smiled at him over a successful batch—real and warm and just for him—he couldn't bring himself to care.
Tonight, she'd tell him the truth. Then he'd decide what to do about this impossible situation.
Tonight couldn't come fast enough.