Page 65 of Griffin

It would have been perfect.

A moment of serendipity where Michael would finally see him for who he was—the one who truly understood him, supported him, worshiped him.

But then that wolf had to show up.

His lips twisted into a snarl at the thought of the man—no, the beast—that had slithered into Michael’s life.

The boyfriend was everything Michael didn’t need.

Rough, predatory, dangerous. The stalker had seen it the moment their paths crossed, lurking on the outskirts of that lunch like a shadow.

Michael’s laugh had sounded forced, his body language stiff. He was clearly uncomfortable with the wolf.

The stalker knew. He always knew.

Because Michael belonged to him.

The stalker’s hands clenched into fists as his mind looped back to that moment in the ice cream shop.

He’d followed them, of course. Carefully. Always from a distance.

The city streets had been his cover, bustling with so many people that the wolf hadn’t noticed him watching from his little nook among the trees.

He was invisible to them, like always, but his eyes missed nothing. The way Michael smiled at the boyfriend, the way they leaned close as they spoke.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Michael wasn’t capable of loving someone else when he was meant to love him.

He had seethed silently the entire time. He wanted nothing more than to rush forward.

To rip Michael away from that wolf, to claw out the boyfriend’s smug eyes, and scream until Michael understood.

But he hadn’t. Because patience was key.

But patience only lasted so long.

In the present, he leaned back in his chair, the old springs groaning under the weight of his anger.

The room seemed to shrink around him as his mind spiraled further into the memory.

He’d been patient for years. Watching, waiting, and fantasizing about the life they would one day share together.

And for what? For some predator to sweep in and destroy everything he had worked for?

His hand shot out, knocking over an empty can. It clattered to the ground, and he didn’t bother picking it up.

His heart was pounding now, rage thrumming through his veins like a storm about to break.

“Michael doesn’t see it yet,” he muttered. “But he will. He’ll see what I’ve done for him, how much I’ve sacrificed. I’ve always been there for him, even when no one else was.”

He replayed the stream again, eyes fixed on the screen. There was that moment—just a fleeting second—when Michael’s smile faltered.

When his gaze flicked toward the camera, and he looked almost... sad.

It was a sign, the stalker told himself.

Proof that Michael wasn’t happy. Proof that he needed saving. From him.

The boyfriend wasn’t just some passing fling. No, this was deeper, more insidious. The wolf was trying to sink his claws into Michael, to claim him, to steal him away.

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