Page 163 of The Moonborn's Curse

"Threk! Wait! That's—!"

They had reached the front entrance.

Threk shifted Hagan like a sack of potatoes, clearly preparing for a launch out the door.

And then, as if changing his mind, he lowered Hagan—more gently—until the wolf's boots touched ground.

They stood there, Hagan bristling, breath coming fast, his shirt slightly askew from the journey.

When Hagan tried to follow him back in , Threk turned, pointing a thick finger at him.

"Stay."

There was enough alpha in the command to make Hagan falter mid-step.

"You may have Alpha blood, but I'm a bear," Threk said calmly. "You have no idea what you're asking for."

Seren arrived last, panting, hair askew. "What—what is wrong with you?"

Threk turned to her, blinking innocently "Griff says I should menace, not throw. Besides, the landlady wouldn't like it."

Seren trailed behind a mixture of shock and fury on her face. "Threk—this is Hagan."

The bear blinked, looking back and forth between them, then shrugged. "You want dinner?"

Hagan blinked at the sudden about-turn.

Threk turned without waiting for a reply. "I'm cooking."

Seren was left fuming at the doorway.

Hagan just smiled slowly.

Dinner was a strange affair. Tense. Laced with unspoken history.

Hagan sat at the table like an uninvited guest. Seren sent him daggers with every look. The only one talking was Threk—loudly, cheerfully.

"Sorry, wolf," he said to Hagan, dishing out steaming rice layered with vegetables and spices. "If you wanted meat, tough luck. She's still a vegetarian."

The scent was amazing, but Hagan barely tasted it. Not with Seren across the table, silent and fuming.

Threk finished his third helping and stood up, stretching. "Time for you to go."

Hagan hesitated before nodding his head. "Thanks for dinner. I'll be back tomorrow."

He tried to catch Seren's eye but she stubbornly refused to look at him. She held the door for him, looking at an imaginary fly just beyond his shoulder and then proceeded to slam the door after him before he could say anything.

Seren rounded on Threk the moment the door closed behind him. "What the hell was that?"

"You have unfinished business with the wolf," Threk had said simply, setting down his plate. "Until that's resolved, you won't move on. It's for the best."

Later, in bed, Seren stared at the ceiling. Still simmering.

But in the quiet, her thoughts drifted back. To the moment his finger touched her arm. To the stray whispers she'd picked up from his mind—thoughts he hadn't meant to broadcast.

Don't look at her mouth. Don't look at her mouth. Don't—damn it.

Smells like cedar and night-blooming jasmine.

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