Page 11 of Thankful for You
And just like that, he pulled back, his jaw clenched tight. “I can’t do this, Iyonna.”
The pang of disappointment hit me harder than I expected. “What are you so afraid of, Griff?”
His gaze was stormy, conflicted. “I’m afraid of losing you.”
I hadn’t expected that, and his honesty left me reeling. But before I could respond, the bell above the door chimed again, and I was snapped back to reality as Delilah appeared, giving Griff a knowing smirk before turning to the next customer. Griff stepped back, putting distance between us, and the moment was gone, like a thread slipping through my fingers.
We worked through the rest of the morning in a rhythm that felt natural, filling pie crusts, blending spices, and stealing glances when we thought the other wasn’t looking. Every moment with him felt heavier, more charged, like the start of a storm building on the horizon.
Eventually, we found ourselves alone again, the last pie out of the oven and the bakery unusually quiet.
He leaned against the counter, looking at me, his eyes dark and searching. “I should go,” he said, but there was no conviction in his words.
I took a step closer, the distance between us shrinking. “Then go,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper, challenging him to stay.
He didn’t move, and neither did I. My heart pounded, my magic thrumming under my skin like a live wire, pulsing in time with the beat of my heart. The attraction between us was undeniable, and I could see the same pull in his eyes, that same need that was eating me up inside.
And then, before I could second-guess myself, I reached out, my fingers brushing against his. It was a small, simple touch, but it sent a shock through me, like I’d touched pure energy. Griff’s gaze dropped to our hands, his fingers brushing over mine in a way that was both tender and possessive.
His voice was a low murmur, rough and thick with emotion. “Iyonna, I… you’re making it really hard to do the right thing.”
“Maybe I’m tired of doing the ‘right’ thing,” I whispered, stepping closer until I was pressed against him, my heart hammering in my chest.
His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him, and the world around us faded until there was only him, his warmth, his steady heartbeat under my fingers. His face was close, so close that I could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the dark lashes framing his gaze as he looked down at me.
Then, just as quickly, he let me go, stepping back. The distance between us was both relief and agony.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking away. “If I stay… they’ll come. And you’ll be in danger. I can’t put that on you, Iyonna. I won’t.”
The emotion in his voice, the pain and longing, made my throat tighten. “But you already have, Griff. I’m in this whether you want me to be or not. And I can handle myself.”
He shook his head, a wry smile on his lips, but there was no humor in it. “You don’t know what they’re capable of, Iyonna. My family—they’re not like other packs. They don’t stop. They don’t care who gets hurt.”
I reached out, taking his hand, ignoring the flicker of electricity that jolted through me. “Then let’s make them stop. Together.”
He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear, hope, and something deeper that made my heart twist. The unspoken promise in his gaze was both terrifying and exhilarating, a step into the unknown that I was somehow desperate to take.
The doorbell chimed, and Delilah bustled in, giving us a curious glance before turning her attention to closing down the bakery. Griff gently pulled his hand from mine, giving me a look that said everything he couldn’t put into words.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Iyonna,” he murmured, his voice laced with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
And as he walked out into the cold November air, I couldn’t help but wonder how long we could keep walking this tightrope of desire and danger, balancing on the edge of something that felt like both salvation and destruction. Because one thing was clear—the more time I spent with Griff, the harder it became to imagine my life without him.
Chapter Eight
Griff
I was pacing along the side streets of Charcoal City, my steps heavy and my mind buzzing with memories I’d rather keep buried. The chill of the early evening air barely registered as I walked, jaw clenched, fists tight. I didn’t belong here anymore—couldn’t risk staying, not with my past creeping closer every second. But I couldn’t bring myself to leave, not yet. Not when Iyonna was still wrapped up in this mess, in as much danger as I was, if not more.
The wind whipped through the city, carrying the familiar scents of pine, steel, and pavement. But then, beneath it, I caught another scent—wolves. Not just any wolves, either. This was unmistakable. This was them, my old pack, and they were close.
I’d barely registered the realization when I heard the rumble of a car engine coming down the road, the headlights breaking through the gathering darkness. I stepped back, bracing myself, just as the sleek black car slowed, the passenger window rolling down. And there she was—leaning over from the driver’s seat, eyes wide with worry and frustration.
“Griff! What are you doing out here?” Iyonna demanded, her voice urgent, her tone more than a little annoyed.
“I’m handling it,” I said, trying to sound sure of myself, even though I felt anything but.
She narrowed her eyes, her expression hardening as she took in my tense stance, my clenched fists. “Get in the car.”
