Page 70 of Griffin

“We’ll be okay,” I said, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat. “We’ve always watched each other’s backs.”

Noah let out a shaky breath, holding on a little tighter than I expected.

“Yeah, you’ll be okay,” he said, his tone trying for light but falling short. “You’ve got Michael now.”

I managed a small smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’re not lonely.”

Noah snorted, stepping back and shaking his head. “You think I’m the lonely one?”

“You’ll find your own mate someday,” I said, my voice firm with belief.

Noah’s gaze softened as it drifted back to Dad.

“Yeah, but I was hoping I could introduce him to Dad too, you know? That might be months... years away,” Noah said.

I nodded, my throat tightening. “It’s time,” I reminded him.

Noah exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping as he finally let go of the weight we’d both been carrying.

“It’s time,” he agreed, his voice filled with both grief and acceptance.

We stood there together, looking at the man who had shaped so much of who we were. My cellphone vibrated in my pocket, shattering the solemn mood.

Pulling it out, I saw Michael's name flashing on the screen. Relief surged through me—until the call ended before I could press answer.

I frowned, staring at the screen as if willing it to ring again. My wolf stirred uneasily, an instinctual alarm thrumming through me. Something didn’t feel right.

Michael had mentioned his stalker during his last stream, the way they’d brazenly appeared in his chat room, dropping chilling hints about knowing where we were.

The stalker had somehow pinpointed our exact location at that ice cream shop in Cinderfield, even though it was packed with people. How the hell had they known?

The thought made my chest tighten. My wolf growled softly, the unease clawing deeper.

And now, looking at this single missed call, a terrible certainty settled over me. Something was wrong.

Or worse—something was about to go terribly wrong.

"Noah," I said abruptly, cutting into whatever he was saying. "We'll talk more another time."

Noah blinked, taken aback. "Wait, what? Where are you going?”

"I need to go," I said, already moving.

Chapter 18

Michael

The bus slowed to a stop, its automatic announcement system crackling to life: “Pinewood Avenue.”

The doors hissed open, and I watched as a small group of passengers shuffled on and off.

The driver didn’t move to close the doors right away, though. Instead, an elderly woman approached at her own slow pace.

She gave him a grateful nod before stepping up and glancing around with a sheepish smile. Most passengers returned her smile, unbothered by the brief delay.

I found myself doing the same. No one seemed in a rush today—least of all me.

I wasn’t exactly eager to stream, that was for sure. In fact, I didn’t evenhaveto.

---