Page 29 of Growl Me, Maybe

Shadows stretched long and soft. The old gas lamps flickered with charm-light. A gentle hush blanketed the town, like the trees themselves were listening in. The air was cool, but the space between him and Lyra was warm—electrified with the current he was refusing to acknowledge.

“You looked uncomfortable,” she said suddenly.

He blinked down at her. “When?”

“Earlier. When you walked into the café.”

He exhaled through his nose. “I’m not a karaoke kind of guy.”

“I noticed,” she teased gently. “But you still came.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He hesitated, eyes on the path ahead.

“I owed you,” he said at last. “After what I said. How I acted. I wanted to– I want to apologize.”

She was quiet for a beat. “You didn’t owe me. But I’m glad you came anyway.”

He glanced at her and the ache that had been pressing behind his ribs all day shifted.

She was radiant. Not because of the spell she’d sung, not because of the attention she’d drawn, but because she was just…her. Chaos and warmth. Wit and vulnerability. A whirlwind wrapped in soft skin and sharp instincts.

“You were right,” he said softly.

Lyra blinked. “About what?”

“I’ve been pushing you away.” His jaw flexed. “I didn’t know how to let you close without everything else slipping.”

She slowed slightly, eyes searching his.

“And now?” she asked.

Now?

Now he wanted to kiss her until the world stopped spinning. Wanted to pull her into his arms and feel her melt into him like magic always had a home there.

But he didn’t say that.

Instead, he said, “I don’t want you to stop being you.”

Lyra stopped walking altogether, standing just beneath a flickering lamplight, the gold catching in her hair like fireflies.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she said, half-laughing.

“Probably.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the air thick with everything unsaid.

Then Lyra tilted her head. “You really don’t sing, huh?”

Jace smirked. “Only in wolf form. And only when it’s full moon and I’m alone in the woods.”

“Tragic,” she said. “You’re missing out.”

“Maybe next time, you’ll drag me up there.”