8. Havoc
Havoc
Cookies at the mall somehow turn into a trip through the drive-thru and an impromptu picnic at the park.
I’m still not entirely sure how the fuck that happens.
One minute, I’m sitting at a tiny mall table watching Matteo demolish three different kinds of cookies while his mother keeps shooting me suspicious looks over the oatmeal raisin.
The next?
The kid announces he’s hungry.
Again.
I stare at him.
“You just ate half a cookie the size of your head.”
“I’m still hungry.”
“Matteo,” Gabriella says, but there’s laughter in her voice.
“What?” He looks at her with complete innocence. “Cookies aren't lunch.”
I point at him.
“Smart kid.”
“You are not encouraging this.”
“Encouraging what? Basic nutritional awareness?”
Her amber eyes roll.
Fuck.
Amber.
I noticed the color before, but in here with all the daylight streaming in from the glass roof, with the weak October sun catching them?
They’re incredible.
Warm brown around the edges, turning almost golden toward the center.
Not Wolf gold.
Something softer.
Warmer.
Like honey held up to sunlight.
Pretty.
Monster practically sighs the word.
“Yeah,” I mutter.
Gabby arches one eyebrow.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
That earns me another suspicious look. Ten minutes later, I’m following Gabriella and Matteo out of the mall.
Twenty minutes after that, there’s enough food spread across a park picnic table to feed a small Pack.
Somehow? It feels fucking normal. And that might be the strangest part.
I don't do this shit.
Picnics.
Malls.
Cookies.
Kids.
My life consists of fire, smoke, mountains, training, and trying to keep Monster from losing his goddamn mind.
But here I am.
Sitting across from Gabriella Santos while her son eats enough food to make me reconsider the possibility that the kid might actually be a Shifter.
Matteo finishes his burger.
Then his fries.
Then half of Gabriella’s fries.
Then he starts eyeing mine.
I stare at him.
He stares back.
“Don't even think about it.”
His little mouth twitches.
“I wasn’t.”
“Bullshit.”
“Havoc,” Gabriella warns.
“Sorry.”
Matteo giggles.
I push some fries toward him anyway. The kid grins like he won something. And fuck me, maybe he did. Because watching him eat does something weird to Monster.
The Wolf is quiet.
Not absent. Never that.
Just content. Watching the boy. Watching his mother. Taking in their scents while they mix with cut grass, damp earth, and the heavy promise of rain still hanging in the October air.
Matteo can sure put away the food. He almost out-eats me. Which is typical for a growing Shifter.
Assuming he is one.
I glance at Gabriella.
She’s cleaning up wrappers, tucking them neatly back into the bag instead of leaving them scattered across the table.
Whatever supernatural blood she carries, she doesn’t want anybody knowing.
I get that. And I know I should leave it alone.
Should.
Instead, every fucking secret she keeps makes me more curious. Not because I think she owes me answers.
She doesn’t.
But because I want to know her.
All of her.
The good shit.
The ugly shit.
The things she laughs about.
The things that put those shadows behind her eyes.
I want to know why she needs money badly enough to work herself into the ground.
Why Matteo carries his favorite things around in that little backpack like he’s afraid he might have to leave without warning.
Why Gabriella sometimes looks over her shoulder when she thinks nobody notices.
I notice.
I notice every fucking thing about her.
And that’s becoming a problem.
A big one.
Matteo launches himself off the bench.
“Can I go play?”
Gabriella looks toward the playground. There isn't another soul around.
“Okay. But stay where I can see you.”
“Okay!”
He takes off.
“Matteo, don't go too far!”
“I won't!”
Gabby watches until he reaches the jungle gym. The boy scrambles up the ladder like he’s been released from prison.
Down the slide.
Back up.
Across the little bridge.
Monkey bars.
Down again.
I lean back against the picnic table and watch him. Twenty minutes pass. He doesn't slow down.
Jesus.
Definitely possible Shifter.
But something else nags at me.
The park is empty. Completely fucking empty. Middle of a weekday. Every kid in Ember Hollow should be in school. My gaze shifts to Gabriella.
“Why isn’t he in school?”
Her body goes still.
Fuck.
And that’s how I know that’s the wrong fucking question.
“What?”
“He’s what, six? Almost seven?” I ask. “Shouldn’t he be in school?”
The warmth disappears from her face.
Just fucking vanishes.
“That’s none of your business.”
Sharp.
Immediate.
Defensive.
Monster rises.
Not angry.
Concerned.
Because that reaction isn't normal. I know caginess when I see it, and Gabriella just threw up every wall she has.
“Gabby, I was only—”
“Matteo!”
Her son looks over.
“It’s time to go.”
His little face falls.
“Please, Mommy! Not yet!”
“Matteo.”
“Please? Ten more minutes?”
Gabriella closes her eyes briefly.
“Okay, fine. Ten minutes.”
“Yes!”
He races back toward the slide. Gabriella ignores me. She immediately starts gathering our trash.
Shit.
I fucked up.
“Gabby.”
“Thanks for lunch.”
“That’s not—”
“But lunch doesn’t entitle you to butt into my life. Our lives. Anyway, I should get Matteo back.”
Shit. I really messed up.
She reaches for the empty drink cups. I move without thinking. My hand closes gently around her arm.
She freezes.
So do I.
Fuck.
Every time I touch her, this happens.
That strange jolt.
Not electricity exactly.
Something deeper.
Monster goes utterly still.
Gabriella slowly looks down at my hand. I loosen my grip immediately, but I don't let her go.
“Don't cut his playtime short because you're mad at me, Honey Girl.”
Her gaze snaps to mine.
Yeah, you’re my Honey Girl.
I said it. And fuck if I’m taking it back.
We’re standing close now. Way too fucking close for a male who has spent weeks telling himself this woman isn't his.
Close enough that I can see her pulse fluttering wildly at the base of her throat.
Close enough to notice the tiny golden flecks inside those amber eyes.
Close enough that her scent fills every fucking breath.
Woodsmoke.
September mornings.
Female.
Gabby.
Mine.
And beneath it, that other thing.
Hidden.
Ancient.
Monster pushes closer.
Ours.
My thumb moves before I realize what I’m doing. One slow stroke against the inside of her arm.
Her breath catches.
Fuck.
My cock hardens.
This thing between us is more than chemistry. Fuck, it kinda feels like fate.
And I know she feels it too.
Whatever this is between us? She definitely fucking feels it.
Her gaze drops to my mouth.
Just for a second.
But I see it. Of course I fucking see it. And suddenly all I can think about is kissing her.
I want to know what that smart mouth tastes like. Want to feel those soft lips beneath mine. Want to slide my hand into all that dark hair and tip her head back. Want to hear what kind of sound Gabriella Santos makes when she stops arguing with me long enough to let me kiss her properly.
Monster practically claws through my chest.
Kiss.
“No.”
Her eyes widen.
“What?”
Fuck.
“Nothing.”
“Havoc—”
“I wasn't prying.”
She tries to pull her arm away. And I release her.
Immediately.
The loss of contact hits harder than it should.
“I was just asking a question.”
“A question about my life, about my son.”
“Yeah.”
“My son is none of your business.”
The words land like a punch.
They shouldn't.
She’s right. Matteo isn't my business. Neither is she.
I know that.
So why the fuck does hearing her say it make something inside me ache?
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Her arms cross over her chest. Defensive again.
“Because you’ve been showing up at my job every night. You ask about my money. Now you’re asking why Matteo isn't in school. What comes next? You want to know what I pay in rent? Check my bank statements?”
“If something's wrong—”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“Stop fucking saying that.”
She recoils slightly.
Fuck.
I lower my voice immediately.
“Don't lie to me, Gabby.”
Her expression hardens.
“I don't owe you the truth.”
“No.”
And that one hurts, too.
“But if there’s something wrong and I can help—”
“I don't need your help.”
“Well, maybe I need to give it.”
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
Silence.
Gabriella stares at me.
Fuck.
There it is. The thing I’ve been trying not to look at too closely.
This isn't only Monster anymore.
It isn't only some primitive Wolf instinct telling me to protect a female I find attractive.
I want to help her.
Me.
Rowan.
The male beneath the Wolf.
I want to make her life easier.
Want to see those shadows disappear from beneath her eyes. Want her to stop looking like she expects the fucking world to come crashing down on her at any moment. Want Matteo in school if he wants to be there. Want Gabriella working one job instead of two.
Want. Need. Mine.
Fuck, I want things I have no business wanting.
Her expression shifts.
Confusion.
Maybe fear.
“What are we to you anyway?” she asks quietly.
My chest tightens.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Her voice shakes now, just slightly.
“What do you even care, Havoc Cross?”
Everything.
I care because you’re everything to me, Gabriella.
The answer rises so fucking fast it terrifies me.
She gestures between us.
“We're just two people passing through each other's lives.”
Monster snarls.
A real growl vibrates through my chest this time. She hears it. Gabriella's eyes widen. I step closer.
“It doesn't feel like that to me.”
My voice comes out rough.
Too honest.
Too fucking vulnerable.
But I can't stop now.
“What-what do I feel like to you?”
“You feel like more to me, Honey Girl.”
Her lips part.
For one heartbeat, hope flickers across her face.
So fast I could pretend I didn't see it.
I do.
And it fucking guts me. Then the walls slam back into place.
“You just like a challenge.”
“No.”
“You don't know me.”
“I want to.”
“Why?”
“Fuck if I know!”
She flinches. I drag both hands through my hair.
“That's the goddamn problem.”
Her brow furrows.
“I've spent weeks trying to stay away from you. Maybe months.”
“Yeah? By sitting at my bar every night?”
“I said trying. I didn't say I was fucking good at it.”
That almost gets her.
Her mouth twitches. But then she looks toward Matteo. And I see the exact moment she remembers why she can't let herself laugh. Why she can't let this be easy.
“I can't be a challenge for you, Havoc.”
“You're not.”
“I have a son to take care of.”
“I know.”
“He comes first.”
“He fucking should.”
Her amber eyes fly back to mine. Something changes between us. Maybe she expected an argument.
She isn't getting one.
I might be a feral bastard, but I’m not competing with a six-year-old for his mother's attention.
Hell, one of the things I like most about Gabriella is the way she loves that kid.
“I don't have time for games,” she whispers. “I can't do casual. I can't have some fun little thing with the hot firefighter until you get bored and move on.”
“Hot firefighter?”
Monster preens.
“Shut up. You know you’re hot.”
I didn’t until she said it.
But it’s not the fucking point.
“Who said anything about casual?”
Her breathing changes.
Mine does too.
There it is.
That fucking pull again.
I take one step towards her. She takes one back.
Not afraid. Never afraid.
Overwhelmed maybe. Which is exactly how I fucking feel.
“Gabby—”
“No.”
She shakes her head.
“I can't.”
“Can't what?”
But she doesn't answer.
“Come on, Matteo.”
“Already?”
“Now, baby.”
The kid hears something in her voice and immediately obeys. That tells me more than I want to know.
He grabs his backpack and runs over.
Gabriella takes his hand.
“Gabby.”
She starts walking.
“Gabriella.”
Nothing.
Fuck.
“Gabby!”
She stops. Doesn't turn. And for a second, I have a thousand things I want to say.
Tell me what's wrong.
Tell me what you're running from.
Tell me why your kid carries his whole fucking world in a backpack.
Tell me why your scent makes my Wolf insane.
Tell me why touching you feels like coming home when I haven't had one of those in years.
Tell me why the thought of you walking away feels so fucking unbearable.
But I don't say any of it. Because she told me she couldn't play games.
And for the first time, I realize neither can I.
“I don't know what this is either,” I say finally.
Her shoulders tense.
“But I'm not fucking playing.”
Slowly, Gabriella looks back at me.
Those amber eyes hit me straight in the chest.
Vulnerable.
Wary.
Beautiful.
For one heartbeat, neither of us moves.
Then Matteo tugs on her hand.
“Mommy?”
The moment breaks. Gabriella turns away.
I watch them leave.
We’re close to the place she rents. Just a few streets over, in fact. and it’s daylight. I know she’ll be safe.
Still, Monster pushes hard against my skin.
Follow.
“No.”
Mine.
“They're not.”
The Wolf snarls.
I stare after the dark-haired woman and the little boy beside her until they disappear around the corner.
My chest feels fucking hollow.
Mine, the Wolf snaps again.
“Not yet,” I mutter.
Monster goes silent.
And fuck me.
I don't know which one of us said it first.