“Everything involving you.”

“Explain.”

“That is dangerous dinner conversation.”

“We have four guards outside and you ordered the steak. Be brave.”

Silas set down his fork.

“He wants your scent in my room. Your clothes in my drawers. Your shoes beside mine. He wants to know what you eat, when you sleep, which sounds mean you are frightened and which mean you are happy. He wants Sophie safe inside pack territory. He wants everyone who sees you to know you are cherished.”

Color rose along her throat.

“And what do you want?”

“The same things.”

Her breath caught.

“But I also want you to choose where your shoes go.”

“Very romantic.”

“I have been told contracts are my strongest courtship skill.”

“By whom?”

“You.”

“Then listen to the expert.”

She held out her hand across the table.

Silas took it.

The contact was gentle. The bond was not. It opened with the memory of her mouth, her new-old name in his voice, and her body pressing close the night before. Desire moved through him, hot and immediate.

Evelyn’s thumb crossed his knuckles.

“You’re doing the thing,” she said.

“What thing?”

“Pretending you do not want to drag me into your lap.”

His grip tightened.

“I am not pretending not to want it.”

“What are you pretending?”

“That wanting it is not making conversation difficult.”

Her smile became slower.

“Good.”

“Good?”

“It would be embarrassing if I were the only one thinking about it.”

Every sound in the restaurant sharpened. Cutlery. Low music. Rain against the window. Her heartbeat.

“Evelyn.”

“Silas.”

“We are in public.”

“In a private room.”

“There is a server.”

“Then we should pay first.”

He signaled for the check so quickly she laughed again.

Outside, the rain had softened. They walked beneath the awning instead of returning immediately to the vehicle.

Evelyn slipped her hand into his coat pocket and linked their fingers there.

The hidden intimacy affected him more than a public embrace could have.

“Was this a good first date?” he asked.

“You threatened no one, broke nothing, and ordered your own food.”

“High standards.”

“I am rebuilding gradually.”

“What is something useless about you?” he asked.

“I can name every winner of the county pie contest since I was twelve. My mother entered every year and never won. She blamed a woman named Carol Fenwick until the day she died.”

“Was Carol cheating?”

“Probably. Her crust was suspiciously consistent.”

“Then we investigate.”

“Silas, it is a pie contest.”

“Corruption begins where good people stop asking questions.”

She laughed hard enough to lean into him.

He wrapped one arm around her, not because danger required it, but because she was laughing and had chosen his body as the place to steady herself.

That difference mattered.

He stopped beneath a streetlamp.

“May I kiss you?”

“You may.”

Silas bent to her.

The first touch was soft. It did not remain soft.

Evelyn’s hands slid beneath his coat, around his waist, and the wolf inside him surged toward every image he had described at dinner: her scent in his room, her shoes beside his, her laughter in the spaces that had never held it.

He backed her toward the brick wall, then caught himself before her body touched it.

She noticed.

“You can,” she whispered.

“The wall?”

“The wall.”

He placed one hand behind her head before easing her against the brick. Her mouth opened beneath his. The bond flooded with heat, trust, and the bright edge of her amusement when his control frayed.

Then her phone rang.

Silas almost destroyed it on principle.

Evelyn saw his face and laughed into his chest.

“It might be Sophie.”

It was an unknown number.

They both went still.

Evelyn answered on speaker. “Hello?”

Static filled the line.

Then a woman whispered, “Is this Evelyn Quinn?”

Evelyn’s hand tightened around the phone.

“My name is Evelyn Reed. Who is this?”

The woman began to cry.

“Kara Wells. They said you escaped Dr. Keene.”

Silas pulled Evelyn against his side and searched the dark street.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Underground. There are six of us. Maybe more.”

A metal door slammed somewhere behind Kara.

Her voice dropped to a breath.

“Please. They are coming back.”

The line went dead.