Chapter 8 #2
Something about him just dominated the space—maybe every space.
Not aggressively.
Not like he was flexing on fronting.
His power simply was.
It radiated around him naturally.
Like gravity.
He stopped beside the table, towering over me even while I sat.
Up close in daylight, he looked almost unfair.
Rugged jaw darkened with scruff.
Broad shoulders stretching the black fabric of his henley tight enough to hint at every hard line beneath it.
Shaggy dark hair brushing his collar.
One brown eye.
One green.
That green one caught the overhead light and seemed to glow for a second.
“You good?” he asked.
Simple.
Direct.
Concern threaded through every word.
“Yes,” I said, suddenly very aware that Matteo was staring at us like this was the greatest entertainment he’d ever witnessed.
“I’m just sitting with my friend Matteo here.”
Wreck glanced down at the boy.
His massive hand settled casually against the edge of the table.
But I noticed the subtle shift in him immediately.
Protective.
Not toward me this time.
Toward Matteo.
And wasn’t that interesting?
Heck, I swear my ovaries started working overtime at the sight.
“Hello, Matteo,” Wreck said.
Matteo blinked up at him fearlessly.
“You sure are big,” he observed.
I choked on a laugh.
One corner of Wreck’s mouth twitched slightly.
“Yeah, I am,” he replied.
“You fight fires? What about bears or mountain lions?” Matteo asked seriously.
The two males behind Wreck snorted softly.
Wreck glanced at me briefly, like he was deciding how honest to be.
“Sometimes,” he said finally.
Matteo nodded solemnly, apparently accepting this as perfectly reasonable information.
His mother returned to the counter just then, relief flooding her face the second she saw everything still intact.
I nodded at her, letting her know we were fine while she handed out orders and dealt with gnarly customers.
“Everything okay?” she asked quickly.
“Yeah,” I assured her. “He’s great.”
Wreck stepped back slightly to give her room.
And I felt it immediately.
The distance.
Not painful.
Not dramatic.
Just noticeable.
Like some invisible thread between us stretched tighter.
Wreck felt it too.
His jaw tightened almost instantly.
The sensation startled me enough that I forgot the other two males were standing there until the dark-haired one gave Wreck an unbearably smug look.
“You gonna introduce us,” he drawled, “or just stand there staring at her all day?”
Wreck’s expression flattened instantly.
The tattooed male smirked openly now.
“Oh, he’s pissed now,” he muttered toward the other one.
Wreck shot both of them a look sharp enough to cut stone before finally sighing heavily.
“Gia,” he said tightly, “this is Havoc.”
The lighter-haired male tipped his chin toward me.
“Pleasure.”
“And Justin.”
The tattooed one nodded once, glowing eyes sharp and observant.
“Nice to meet you.”
Something about both males felt dangerous too, but different from Wreck.
Sharper.
Even wilder somehow.
But neither of them pulled at me the way he did.
Not even close.
“Gia,” Havoc repeated thoughtfully. “Pretty name.”
Wreck growled.
Actually growled.
Low.
Warning-heavy.
The humans likely couldn’t hear it, and yet the entire diner went quiet for a second.
Havoc lifted both hands innocently.
“What? I’m being friendly.”
“Leave,” Wreck said flatly.
Justin’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh.
“You’re making him weirder,” he informed me helpfully.
“Um, sorry about that,” I murmured.
Havoc grinned, then glanced down at Matteo.
The roughness in his expression softened just slightly.
“Later, little man.”
Matteo waved enthusiastically.
“Bye, giant beard guy!”
Havoc barked out a laugh at that while Justin shook his head.
Then both males faded toward the back of the diner, grabbing a booth near the windows where they immediately started arguing about something under their breath.
Or maybe loudly.
It was honestly hard to tell with them.
But even sitting farther away, they still felt dangerous enough that nobody else in the diner seemed eager to bother them.
Wreck stayed exactly where he was.
Watching me.
Watching everyone else, too.
Like he physically couldn’t stop tracking the room around me.
The waitress finally set down my burger and iced tea with a grateful smile.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely.
“Are you kidding? Thank you for sitting with him. The tables are full, let me set him up at the counter so you two can—”
“That’s okay. He’s fine there,” Wreck said, and I could’ve hugged him.
“You sure?” Gabby asked.
“He’s perfect right there. Aren’t you, Matteo?” I chimed in.
“Yes, Mommy, I’m good!”
“Thanks so much. You’re an angel,” she murmured.
I definitely wasn’t.
But I appreciated the vote of confidence.
Wreck stepped back enough as if to let me eat but he didn’t actually leave.
And I was glad.
Why was I so damn glad?
He stayed there beside the booth like some massive, silent bodyguard guarding the perimeter.
Like turning his back on me in a crowded diner physically offended him somehow.
“So, are you stalking me?” I teased lightly.
His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth.
“No.”
Beat.
“I smelled you from outside.”
My stomach did something very illegal.
“Oh,” I said faintly.
That was somehow worse.
Or better.
Both.
I took a bite of my burger mostly because I needed something to do besides stare at him.
Wreck watched me chew like he was trying to memorize the motion.
Good Goddess.
Tonight was going to be dangerous for my sanity.
“Are you nervous?” he asked suddenly.
The question surprised me.
“About what?”
“Tonight.”
Oh.
I forgot Shifters can sometimes scent emotions.
He’d have picked up on my anxiety.
But that he asked about it?
I mean, wow. I wasn’t expecting that.
Maybe he cared.
Maybe this wasn’t just attraction.
Not just biology or chemistry, or whatever.
And maybe he was nervous, too.
I looked up at him, and yeah, I saw it there.
There was actual nervousness tucked beneath all that muscle and intensity, and for some reason that affected me more than the staring had.
“A little,” I admitted.
He nodded once.
“Good.”
I blinked.
“Good?”
“Means you’re taking it seriously.”
My heart fluttered strangely.
Not fear.
Not exactly.
Just awareness.
Of him.
Of the way the air shifted every time he moved closer.
Of how safe I felt sitting there with this massive, dangerous male watching the room like he’d tear it apart if anyone looked at me wrong.
Matteo swung his sneakers under the table.
“You gonna marry him?” the little boy asked suddenly.
I choked on my iced tea.
Wreck froze.
The entire diner seemed to lean in.
“Matteo!” his mother hissed from behind the counter.
“What?” he asked innocently.
I coughed hard enough that my eyes watered.
“Let’s maybe start with dinner,” I managed weakly.
One corner of Wreck’s mouth twitched.
Barely.
But it was enough.
And the way he looked at me afterward?
Not like prey.
Not like conquest.
But like something fragile and precious.
Something he didn’t entirely trust himself to touch—yeah.
I knew right then I’d come to Montana for a reason that had nothing to do with the forest, or the Coven, or the mountains themselves.
And Jeremy Steeler never stood a chance.