Page 8 of Growl Me, Maybe

She didn’t leave.

He glanced up. “Something else?”

Calla cocked her head. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

“I didn’t realize that was something you noticed.”

“I’m observant. Also, Petra’s been whispering about your ‘new employee situation’ like it’s a soap opera.”

Jace frowned. “It’s not a situation.”

Calla plopped into the chair across from him, arching a brow. “Then why are you asking Petra to keep an eye on her?”

“I’m not?—”

“You are.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s nothing.”

Calla leaned in. “It’s not nothing if it’s making you glower more than usual. Which is impressive, considering your baseline is ‘thundercloud with a jawline.’”

He didn’t dignify that with a response.

She waited.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I just need to know if she’s… adjusting. To the town. To the Keep.”

Calla’s eyes sparkled with something dangerously close to amusement. “Why?”

“She’s your cousin.”

“She’s also an adult. And capable. And, from what I’ve seen, probably the best thing to happen to the Keep in ages.”

He stiffened. “You don’t know her work ethic.”

Calla’s gaze softened. “No. But maybe you don’t either.”

Jace looked away.

He didn’t want to admit it, couldn’t admit it—butLyra unsettled himin ways that had nothing to do with her chaos magic and everything to do with the mate-bond pulsing just under his skin. Every time she was near, his instincts clawed at him. Claim her. Protect her. Touch her.

It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t manageable.

So he buried it. Like he buried everything else that didn’t fit in the neat, cold lines of duty.

Calla rose, brushing nonexistent dust from her trousers. “She’s good for this place. And maybe good for you, too—if you’d pull your head outta your ass long enough to see it.”

He glared. She smirked. And then she was gone.

Jace sat there long after the door clicked shut, staring at the fire until his wolf huffed softly inside him, pacing behind his ribs.

Outside, dusk fell over Celestial Pines like a velvet cloak. The lights in the town flickered to life, glow globes over storefronts, enchanted candles on porches, soft illumination curling around ward stones set in the sidewalks.

And down in the courtyard, Lyra danced with Milo, twirling in circles, making her skirt flare like flower petals. She didn’t know he was watching. Didn’t know how tightly he was wound.

And she couldn’t know the truth clawing beneath his skin.

Because if she did… she’d run.

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