If falling for Xavier felt easy, almost natural, then the quiet that followed was anything but.
The city no longer felt entirely welcoming.
It began on a morning that should have been ordinary.
The café was warm and alive with soft chatter, the hiss of the espresso machine cutting through the hum of voices. Misty and I sat near the window, our usual spot, sunlight spilling across the table as steam curled from our cups.
I was midway through stirring my drink when Misty nudged me sharply.
"Scar," she murmured. "Don't look now."
I frowned. "What—"
"Just don't."
Of course, I looked.
Three men had just entered the café, and the air shifted the moment they did. It wasn't dramatic—no sudden silence, no obvious tension—but something subtle, instinctive, brushed against my senses.
Wolves.
The one in front was unmistakable.
Xavier.
He stood tall and relaxed, dark jacket slung over one shoulder, his presence effortless in a way that made people unconsciously step aside for him. His gaze swept the café—and then stopped when it found me.
For half a second, his expression softened.
Then he smiled.
My heart did something stupid.
"Speak of the devil," Misty muttered. "He's with company."
I glanced at the two men flanking him.
One was broad-shouldered with sharp features and a perpetually amused expression, his grin easy and confident. The other was leaner, quieter, his movements precise, eyes alert as if he was cataloging every detail of the room.
Xavier leaned toward them, said something low, then headed straight for our table.
"Scarlett," he said warmly. "Misty."
"Stalking us now?" Misty teased.
Xavier chuckled. "Pure coincidence. I promise."
He gestured behind him. "Mind if I introduce you? These are my friends—Jason and Felix."
Jason gave us a dramatic bow. "A pleasure. Finally meeting the women who've managed to distract Xavier from everything."
Felix nodded politely. "Nice to meet you."
Misty smiled. "I'm Misty. This is Scarlett."
Jason's gaze lingered on me for a fraction too long, something unreadable flickering across his face before his grin returned. "So you're Scarlett."
Something about the way he said my name made my shoulders tense.
Xavier noticed.
"She is," he said calmly, stepping just a little closer to me. "You guys mind if we sit?"
We didn't.
Conversation flowed easily at first. Jason dominated most of it, telling exaggerated stories about training mishaps and city trouble, while Felix occasionally corrected him with dry remarks. Xavier watched more than he spoke, his attention flicking between me and the room like he was guarding something precious.
Or someone.
"So," Jason said casually, leaning back in his chair, "how long have you two been in the city?"
"Not long," I replied. "A few months."
"And before that?"
"The packs," Misty answered smoothly.
Jason's eyes gleamed. "Which one?"
Xavier's voice cut in, calm but firm. "That's enough."
Jason held up his hands, smirking. "Relax. Just curious."
But the mood had shifted.
Felix caught my eye then, his expression apologetic. "Ignore him. He doesn't know when to stop."
"I do too," Jason protested.
Xavier stood a moment later. "We should get going."
His friends rose without argument.
"I'll see you later?" he asked me quietly.
I nodded. "Yeah."
As they left, Misty leaned close. "Your boyfriend's friends are… intense."
"He's not my—" I stopped myself, heat rushing to my cheeks.
Misty smirked. "Sure he's not."
But as I watched the door swing shut behind them, unease settled in my chest.
Something about Jason's curiosity lingered uncomfortably.
That unease didn't fade.
If anything, it grew.
The city no longer felt entirely welcoming.
I noticed it first in small things—the way conversations hushed when I passed certain alleys, how I sometimes felt eyes on my back even when the street looked empty. I told myself it was paranoia, a leftover instinct from growing up in a pack where awareness meant survival.
Still, the feeling lingered.
"Scar, you're zoning out again."
Misty's voice pulled me back one afternoon as we sat at the café once more, half-finished drinks growing cold between us.
"Sorry," I said. "Just thinking."
"About him?" she asked, one eyebrow lifting knowingly.
I groaned. "You're impossible."
She grinned. "And correct."
I couldn't deny it. Xavier occupied my thoughts more than I cared to admit—the way he smiled when he thought I wasn't looking, the way he always walked on the outside of the sidewalk, the way he checked in without making it obvious.
No one had ever been so… attentive.
But Misty's teasing faded as her gaze sharpened. "Scar," she said quietly, "have you noticed anything strange lately?"
My fingers tightened around my cup. "What do you mean?"
"People," she said. "Watching. Lingering. I caught a scent yesterday that didn't belong."
My heart skipped. "A wolf?"
She nodded once. "More than one. And they weren't trying to hide it."
A chill crept up my spine. "Do you think it's about us?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I don't like it."
That night, I told Xavier.
We walked along the river, city lights shimmering across the water like scattered stars. He listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable.
"When did you start feeling this way?" he asked.
"A few days ago. It's probably nothing."
"You don't sound paranoid," he said firmly. "And it's not nothing."
I stopped walking. "You think we're in danger."
He met my gaze, gray eyes darkening. "I think there are things in this world that don't leave loose ends."
The words unsettled me.
"You talk like you know that for sure."
"I do." He hesitated. "Scarlett… there are parts of my life I haven't shared with you yet. Once you know, there's no going back."
My pulse quickened. "Are you in trouble?"
"Not exactly," he said. "But you might be."
Before I could ask more, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, jaw tightening.
"I need to take this."
As he stepped away, unease curled tighter in my chest.
Something was happening.
Across the city, in a forgotten warehouse tucked between abandoned buildings, voices murmured in the dark.
"She's here," one said. "No wolf. Just like the rumors."
"And the Alpha?" another asked.
"He's close," came the reply. "But not close enough."
A low chuckle echoed. "Then we move soon."
Days passed. Tension tightened.
Misty stayed alert. Xavier walked me everywhere.
"Promise me you won't go anywhere alone," he said one night.
"I promise."
I broke it.
The street was quiet. Lamps flickered.
I barely made it halfway down the block before instinct screamed.
I wasn't alone.
Hands grabbed me. A voice sneered, "No wolf. This'll be easy."
Pain flared. Darkness followed.
I woke to chains and cold stone.
"So this is her," a voice said. "The wolfless girl everyone fears."
"You have the wrong person," I whispered.
He laughed. "No. We have exactly the right one."
Miles away, Xavier staggered, fury tearing through him.
"She's gone."
His wolf roared.
And the storm finally broke.