Mia couldn’t sleep.


    The wind whispered against the windows, curling like fingers around the edges of the cabin, but it wasn’t the cold or the storm that kept her tossing beneath the quilt. It was the ache of wanting answers. The knowledge she carried secretly now. And the man who slipped into the woods every night like he belonged to them more than the world indoors.


    She lay curled in bed, the worn quilt pulled up to her chin, listening to every creak and groan the cabin made as it settled into the deep of night. The silence between those sounds was louder. In it, her thoughts roamed wild.


    She’d seen him. That night. The shift. The wolf. The curve of his spine as it elongated, the flash of muscle rippling like moonlight over water, the quiet ease of something impossible made real. It hadn’t been a dream, no matter how often she tried to convince herself otherwise. And yet, every time he returned and looked at her with those steady, knowing eyes, with the warmth that lived behind his silence, she wondered if it even mattered.


    He wasn’t a monster. He was Ronan.


    And she was beginning to think she was falling for him.


    She sighed, pressing a hand to her fluttering chest. Her heart had no idea what to do anymore—leaping at the sound of his footsteps, skipping a beat when his fingers brushed hers, aching at the space between them that always felt too wide.


    It was stupid. Or maybe dangerous. Or both.


    She watched the clock tick past midnight.


    Her eyes kept drifting to the window beside her bed, straining to see through the veil of snow-dusted glass. There was no real reason to look—she already knew what she wouldn’t see. Ronan was gone again, off into the dark for one of his nightly walks.


    She had liked going out with him, even if it was just in the twilight hours before true darkness. She hadn’t felt the inescapable fear she’d expected. Instead, she’d felt safe. Alive. A little more like the girl she used to be—the one who fled to the woods every chance she got, who believed the trees could keep secrets, and the stars had answers.


    She slipped out from under the quilt, the cold floor making her shiver. Wrapping the quilt tighter around her shoulders, she padded softly into the front room. The world outside was painted in silver and shadow, moonlight reflecting on snowbanks and frost-kissed trees. Her breath fogged the glass as she leaned in closer, scanning the edge of the woods.


    And then she saw him.


    Dark silhouette, slow and purposeful, emerging from the trees like he’d been born from them. Her heart squeezed tight in her chest. There was nothing monstrous about the way he moved. He looked… calm. Tired. Human, yet not. Whole. She watched him shift in the shadows—one moment wolf, the next man—his clothes pulled on quickly as if he’d done it a thousand times before.


    Her breath caught in her throat. It was beautiful in a way she hadn’t expected.


    When the front door creaked open a few minutes later, Mia was already curled on the couch, pretending she’d just wandered in for water or warmth—not because she’d waited up for him like someone caught in a spell she couldn’t shake.


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    Ronan paused when he saw her. His brow furrowed slightly. “You okay?”


    She nodded, then hesitated. “I couldn''t sleep.”


    He stepped inside fully, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. “Bad dreams again?”


    Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah. I guess they just stuck around tonight.”


    Ronan walked over, kneeling beside the couch instead of sitting. “Want to talk about them?”


    Mia shook her head. “Not really. I don’t even remember them all that well. Just… feelings. Fear, mostly. Like something was coming for me and I couldn’t move.”


    He was quiet for a long moment, studying her face. Then he said, “You’re safe here, Mia.”


    “I know,” she whispered. And she did. Somehow, despite everything—despite the unanswered questions, the hidden truths—she believed that. “Still,” she added, her voice barely above a breath, “when you’re not here, the dreams aren’t so bad. Everything feels better when you’re here.”


    Ronan exhaled slowly, as if her words stirred something heavy in him. “I don’t go far. I always come back.”


    She nodded, eyes dropping to her hands in her lap. “I know. But I still worry. Even if I don’t have a good reason to.”


    He shifted, his knee brushing the couch. “I’d never let anything happen to you.”


    “I didn’t make it easy for you at first,” she said with a small, rueful smile. “I was scared, and very stubborn. Sorry.”


    “You had every right to be,” he replied, his voice low and steady.


    She looked up, meeting his eyes. “You still protected me anyway. Even when I gave you every reason not to.”


    Ronan tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening. “I’ll always protect you, Mia.”


    A warmth bloomed in her chest, quiet and slow. Her heart fluttered. Her skin buzzed like someone had brushed their fingers along every nerve. That electric tingle surged through her like a slow-moving current, and she tried not to visibly react to it.


    Gathering courage she didn’t quite know she had, she whispered, “Would you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep? I think it would help.”


    He didn’t answer right away. Just studied her for a beat longer. Then he nodded.


    “Of course.”


    Mia leaned back into the cushions as Ronan rose and sat beside her this time, careful but close. The couch was small, and their bodies naturally brushed—shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. She tucked her legs up and leaned slightly against him, the side of her head brushing his arm.


    And oh, she fit perfectly there.


    His warmth soaked into her through the blanket and her borrowed flannel pajamas. His scent, earthy and clean, wrapped around her like a second comforter. Every inch of her body felt acutely aware of his presence. Her heart beat so loudly she wondered if he could hear it.


    She let her head drop slightly, resting gently against his bicep. His arm didn’t move. He didn’t shift away.


    Instead, he let out a slow breath and leaned just a little into her, enough to let her know he was choosing this moment too.


    “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper against the quiet of the room.


    “For what?” he asked, voice low and warm.


    “For being kind. For staying. For protecting me even when I made it hard.”


    He was quiet for a beat, and then he said softly, “I’ll always protect you.”


    The words wrapped around her like a promise, sinking deep.


    The fire crackled low in the hearth, and Ronan’s breathing was steady beside her. She memorized the cadence of it. She closed her eyes and let her hand rest lightly over her chest, as if trying to keep her heart from fluttering away entirely.


    And in the safety of that single word—always—she finally drifted off. Her head against his shoulder, her heart dancing a dangerous little waltz she knew would only get harder to ignore.


    But for now, she didn’t need to decide. For now, she just let herself feel.