Page 8 of Curses and Casualties
Just as our laughter begins to fade, the sound of footsteps echo from around the corner of the building. Ryan’s body tenses again, his stance shifting slightly as he prepares for another potential threat. But instead, Ethan and Scarlett emerge from the shadows, their expressions relaxed.
“Coast is clear,” Ethan announces. “Anything out front?”
“Nothing,” Ryan says quickly, shooting me a warning glance that I can’t help but ignore.
“Except a very suspicious feline,” I add, grinning.
Ethan raises an eyebrow. “What kind of feline?”
“A tabby cat,” Ryan answers, his tone firm and serious, as though we’d had a run-in with an actual threat. Then, turning to me, he narrows his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching in an attempt to stifle a grin. ‘You’re going to pay for that later,’ he tells me through our bond.
A shiver of anticipation runs through me as his words echo in my head, making me grin wider. ‘Can’t wait,’ I shoot back, just as Scarlett chimes in.
“Enough of the mind talking, you two. We have supplies to gather here. That tiny breakfast we had barely touched the sides.”
As if on cue, my stomach growls, echoing her sentiment. Ryan chuckles, pulling me closer to him with an arm around my waist. “Guess we better get to it then.” He scans the area one lasttime. “Georgia and Ethan, you go inside. Scarlett and I will keep watch out here. If anything feels off, Georgia and I can alert each other through the bond.”
I nod, trying to quell the nervous flutter in my stomach. “OK. Let’s do this.”
Ryan releases me reluctantly. “Be careful, love. In and out, remember?”
“I remember,” I assure him, squeezing his hand before following Ethan toward the building’s entrance.
As we climb the stairs to my floor, every creak and groan of the old building sets my nerves on edge. Ethan moves with silent grace beside me, his whole body transformed from the casual friend at breakfast to a predator on the hunt. His shoulders are loose but ready, each step placed with deliberate care to minimize sound. Even in human form, he radiates that dangerous wolf energy—alert, deadly, protective.
At my door, I fumble with my keys, my hands shaking slightly. Ethan places a steadying hand on my shoulder. “Take a deep breath,” he whispers. “I’ve got your back.”
I nod, inhaling deeply before sliding the key into the lock. The door swings open with a familiar creak, revealing the dim interior of my apartment. Everything looks exactly as I left it, yet it feels like stepping into a stranger’s home.
The scent hits me first—vanilla candles, lavender detergent, the earthy comfort of old paperbacks. It should feel like return. Instead, it just feels strange, like I don’t really belong here anymore. Luna stirs uneasily, finding the familiar human scents both comforting and wrong somehow.
Was home. Now just a den we used to know,she observes, and I feel a pang of loss for the simple life I’d lived here.
“Let’s make this quick,” Ethan says, gently ushering me inside and locking the door behind him. He immediately movesinto what I recognize as a defensive position, keeping himself between me and any potential entry points.
We move efficiently through the apartment, gathering cash, clothes, and supplies. I stuff everything into my largest backpack, trying to prioritize necessities over sentimentality.
As I reach for a framed photo of my family, a floorboard creaks out in the hall. Ethan and I freeze, exchanging alarmed glances.
“Did you hear that?” I whisper.
‘Ryan!’I send urgently through our bond. ‘Someone’s outside my apartment!’
His response is immediate, concern flooding through our connection. ‘Get out. Now.’
But Ethan’s already moving, his body coiled with tension, eyes flashing amber as his wolf rises close to the surface. He holds a finger to his lips, then slowly moves toward the front door with the fluid grace of a hunter stalking prey.
My heart pounds in my chest as Ethan looks through the peephole while I strain to listen for any further sounds. The silence stretches, broken only by the faint ticking of a clock in the living room.
After what feels like an eternity, Ethan relaxes slightly. “Must have been the building settling,” he murmurs. “We should go.”
I nod, zipping up the backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. “Yeah, let’s?—”
The words die in my throat as Ethan pulls the front door open and a familiar figure stands silhouetted in the doorway. I gasp.
“What are you doing here?”
Chapter 4
