Page 16 of Growl Me, Maybe

After the meeting, Jace stalked through the Keep’s back corridor, jaw even tighter, breath shallow. The scent of cedar oil and old parchment followed him, normally grounding, but now it just prickled.

Ezra.

Damn him.

He’d once called Ezra brother. Not by blood, but bond. The way only alpha-born shifters could, raised alongside one another in rites and training. They’d fought side by side in the Old Trials, bled together in the Echo Glen skirmishes when the wards faltered. Once, they’d even laughed under starlight with matching bruises and broken ribs.

But Ezra had always wanted more.

More control. More power. Less diplomacy. Less peace.

When Jace’s father vanished and the mantle passed down, Ezra had shown up within a month—smiling, smooth, full of suggestions about how to “strengthen the Pack” by dissolving the Moonlit Pact and claiming surrounding territories by force.

Jace said no.

Ezra smiled, nodded… and left.

The following year, shifters began disappearing. Rumors of rogue gatherings. Symbols burned into trees. Tensions in the council. Ezra’s shadow stretched longer with every full moon.

Now, he was circling again. Like a vulture.

And the timing couldn’t be worse.

Because now…Jace had something Ezra could take.

He turned the corner toward the main hall just in time to hear laughter echo down from the courtyard.

He froze. He’d recognize that laugh anywhere.

Lyra.

He moved on instinct, barely thinking, boots silent against the old stone floor. Through the arched window, he saw her near the central fountain, head thrown back, curls bouncing as she laughed at somethingLuca, one of his younger enforcers, was saying.

Jace’s wolf snarled.

Luca was leaning in too close. Smiling too much. His hand brushing her elbow like he had a right.

Jace stepped outside before he could talk himself out of it.

“Luca,” he said flatly.

Both of them turned. Lyra’s smile faltered slightly, and Luca stiffened like he’d just been caught sniffing the alpha’s mate.

Not that she was. Not officially.

“Alpha,” Luca said, nodding.

“You’ve got patrol rotation in fifteen.”

Luca looked at the sky, blinked. “Thought that was later?—”

“Do you want me to make it ten?”

Luca mumbled something about checking gear and practically sprinted off.

Lyra raised a brow. “Well, that wasn’t subtle.”

Jace exhaled through his nose. “He shouldn’t be distracting you.”

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