Chapter 4 Theo
FOUR
THEO
Theo approached the porch with the measured stride of an alpha on pack business. Not the desperate lunge his instincts were demanding. He was the Alpha of the Vance Pack. He had control. He had discipline. He had—
She raised an eyebrow at him. One single, devastating eyebrow.
“Can I help you?”
Her voice was dry. Unimpressed. Not a hint of the deference he usually got when people realized who he was.
Theo stopped at the base of the porch steps, looking up at her. Bad tactical position. He didn’t care.
“What did you do to the wards?”
The eyebrow climbed higher. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“Theo Vance. Alpha of the pack that protects this territory.” The words came out harder than he intended. More growl than speech. “The wards you activated have been dormant for thirty years. Half the town registered that surge. I need to know what you did and how.”
She stared at him for a long moment. Then her mouth curved—not quite a smile, more like the beginning of one that had been intercepted by annoyance.
“I signed a deed.” She uncrossed her arms long enough to wave a hand at the inn behind her. “I didn’t summon anything. The house had… opinions about the transaction.”
“That deed lit up every ley line in Haven Shores.”
“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”
Beck made a sound that might have been a strangled laugh, quickly disguised as a cough.
Theo ignored him, his focus narrowing to the woman in front of him.
To the stubborn set of her jaw. The challenge in her stance.
The way she planted herself without flinching, even with an alpha wolf glaring up at her.
“The ward lines need to be checked.” He took the porch steps two at a time, closing the distance between them. Professional. He was being professional. “That kind of surge can cause instabilities. Dangerous ones.”
She tilted her head to look up at him—because he had nearly a foot on her, and at this range that was suddenly, devastatingly apparent.
“By all means.” Her voice was steady, but awareness flickered in her expression. Recognition of the charge building in the air between them. “Check your wards. Don’t let me stop you.”
The ward anchor was behind her. To reach it, he’d have to step past her. Into her space.
Theo moved.
The scent of her crashed over him—closer now, stronger. That honey-and-sea-salt combination that was going to haunt his dreams. He could feel her magic, too, brushing against his senses. It flickered responsively when he got near, like flame reaching for oxygen.
Their gazes caught. Held.
He watched her pupils dilate. Watched the pulse jump in her throat. Watched her magic spark—turquoise flickers at her fingertips—before she clenched her fists and locked it down.
They both stepped back at the same instant. A foot of space that should have been nothing and felt like miles.
“Two minutes.” Beck’s voice drifted up from the base of the steps, rich with amusement. “Two minutes and she’s already yelling at you. I like her.”
The woman—Avine, that was her name, Sue Tidewell’s great-niece, the witch who’d turned his carefully ordered world upside down—turned to look at Beck. Tension bled from her shoulders.
“I wasn’t yelling.”
“Aggressively not-yelling, then.” Beck climbed the steps with none of Theo’s intensity, stopping at a respectful distance and offering a hand.
“Beck Driscoll. I’m his beta, which basically means I apologize for his personality on a semi-regular basis.
He’s usually less growly.” A pause, head tilting in consideration.
“Well, no. He’s always this growly. But usually people are scared. ”
Avine shook his hand. Her posture eased another fraction, and possessiveness curled through Theo’s gut at the sight of her fingers in Beck’s grip.
Stop it.
Avine released Beck’s hand and turned back to Theo. Her gaze was steady. Challenging. “I’m not scared of growly.”
Beck’s grin widened. “I really like her.”
“Beck.” Theo’s voice carried a warning. “The wards.”
“Right. The wards. The very important wards that definitely require your personal attention and aren’t at all an excuse to stand near the pretty witch.” Beck’s expression was innocent. His tone was anything but. “I’ll check the perimeter.”
He vanished around the side of the inn before Theo could respond, leaving him alone with Avine and the weight of everything unsaid.
The ward anchor was set into the foundation of the porch, hidden beneath decades of overgrown roses. Theo crouched to examine it, grateful for the excuse to break eye contact. To breathe air that wasn’t saturated with her scent.
The stone hummed beneath his fingers—alive, thrumming with more power than it had held since before he was born. The activation had been clean. No corruption. No instability. Old magic recognizing a new keeper and deciding, for the first time in decades, to wake up.
Theo straightened, brushing dirt from his hands. “This cliff has rejected people violently. Repeatedly. The wards you activated haven’t fired in thirty years for a reason.”
“And yet here I am.” She spread her arms, indicating the intact building around them. “No drowning. No attempted vehicular manslaughter. The house seems to like me.”
It did. He could sense that much. The inn’s magic was content. Whatever test the building applied to potential owners, Avine had passed.
That didn’t mean she was safe.
“The ward activation will have attracted attention.” He chose his words with care. “The whole town registered it. That includes parties who might not have your best interests at heart.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a fact.” He met her gaze directly.
Let her see the seriousness there. “Haven Shores is a sanctuary, but it’s not without its dangers.
The surge has been making magic unpredictable.
Old alliances are being tested. And you announced your arrival to every supernatural being on the Pacific coast.”
Concern flickered across her face—quickly suppressed. “I can take care of myself.”
“I’m not suggesting otherwise.” Though his wolf wasn’t agreeing, loudly and insistently. “The pack protects Haven Shores. That includes you now, whether you want it or not.”
Avine’s expression hardened. “I spent fifteen years having someone else decide what I needed. I won’t sign up for another tour.”
“That’s not—”
“I won’t be locked up.”
The words hit Theo like a punch to the sternum. He saw it then—not armor alone, but scars. Scars that came from being controlled, diminished, boxed in. He recognized them because he’d spent a decade running from his own version of the same trap.
I thought running was strength. It was cowardice.
His father’s voice echoed in his memory: A real alpha needs no one. He’d spent years proving that wrong, building a pack that relied on each other, that supported instead of controlled.
But he understood the instinct to refuse help. Understood it better than she could know.
“Protection isn’t a cage.” The words were sad. Soft. “But I hear what you’re saying.”
Avine blinked. Whatever she’d expected him to say, that wasn’t it.
“The pack monitors the ward lines as part of our agreement with the coven.” Theo stepped back, giving her space. Giving himself space, too, because being this close to her was making it hard to think. “I’ll have someone check them weekly. Standard procedure. Not special treatment.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then I’ll respect that.” He would. It would kill him, but he would. “But I hope you’ll reconsider. The wards connect to the entire town. If anything destabilizes here, it affects everyone.”
She studied him. Weighing. Assessing. Looking for the trap.
“Weekly checks.” Her voice was measured. “With advance notice. And I reserve the right to tell you to leave.”
“Fair enough.”
Beck materialized from around the corner, timing impeccable as always.
“Perimeter’s clean. Ward stones are stable.
Whatever she did, the magic liked it.” He directed the last part at Avine with a friendly nod.
“The house hasn’t been this happy since before the Marsh-Vance thing.
Which nobody talks about, so don’t ask.”
“The what?”
“Exactly.” Beck grinned. “Welcome to Haven Shores, Avine Bell. It’s going to be a wild ride.”
Theo was already moving toward the truck. Had to. Because if he stayed any longer, he was going to do something ill-advised. Say something revealing. Acknowledge what his wolf had been screaming at him since the moment he’d laid eyes on her.
“Theo.”
He stopped. Turned.
Avine stood in the doorway of her inn, one hand on the frame. The light behind her turned her into a silhouette—dark hair, determined posture, the faint glow of magic still clinging to her skin.
“Thank you.” The words seemed to cost her. “For… hearing me.”
“Get some rest.” His voice was low, scraped thin. “The house chose well.”
He turned away before he could see her reaction. Climbed into the truck. Sat there gripping the door handle until his fingers ached.
Beck slid into the passenger seat without comment. For once.
They were halfway down the cliff road before he spoke. “So. Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Cool. Cool, cool, cool.” Beck stretched his legs out, perfectly casual. “Ulna called. Asked if we needed backup. I told her you were handling a sensitive situation.”
“Beck.”
“She asked if ‘sensitive situation’ was code for ‘found his mate.’ I said no. I lied.”
Theo’s grip tightened on the wheel. “It’s not—I don’t—”
“Whatever this is? You don’t have to figure it out alone.”
The words landed in his gut, heavy and true. He filed them away, along with everything else he wasn’t ready to examine.
They drove in silence through the dark streets of Haven Shores.
Past Gilly’s Brew & Bite, still lit up and busy with the evening crowd.
Past the cobblestones of the Old Wards District, where candles flickered in shop windows.
Past the harbor, where boats rocked gently at their moorings and the lighthouse swept its patient beam across the water.
His town. His responsibility. His home.
And somewhere on the cliff above it all, a witch who’d walked into his life and turned everything sideways.