[Claire’s POV]
Five days of penthouse captivity, and I'm starting to understand why people in witness protection programs go insane. I've memorized the ceiling tiles in seventeen different lighting conditions.
I corner Hugh during his morning coffee ritual, which is the only time he's vulnerable to negotiation.
Well, that and when I'm naked. But I'm trying to be strategic here.
"I need to see Chris, my best friend," I announce, blocking his path to the refrigerator. "Today. Now. Before I start having conversations with your houseplants."
He sets down his mug with deliberate care. "Claire."
"Don't 'Claire' me in that tone. I need human interaction that doesn't involve werewolf politics or existential mate bond discussions. I need normal."
His jaw does that tight thing when he's torn between Alpha instincts and boyfriend instincts.
Yes, boyfriend.
We're calling it that now because I've decided unilaterally, and he can argue later.
"You can take Theo," he finally concedes. "He stays with you the entire time. You text me every thirty minutes, and you're back by sunset."
"Deal. Absolutely. You're my favorite werewolf boyfriend who's definitely not being overprotective." I kiss him quickly before he can change his mind. "Safety will be my middle name. Claire Safety Winters, reporting for duty."
"Your middle name is Margaret."
"Not anymore. I've rebranded." With a chuckle I leave the room to dig out my favorite top—because that’s what I really need right now, feel put together and in control—and leave with Theo in tow.
When we pull up to the café that Chris and I have claimed as our territory since sophomore year, the familiar smell of roasted beans hits me, and something in my chest unknots.
Chris is already there, having commandeered our usual corner table. She launches herself across the café with her signature enthusiasm.
"Finally! I was starting to think you'd been kidnapped by aliens or joined a cult." She pulls back, eyes sliding to Theo with interest that's immediately obvious. "And who's this tall drink of water?"
"Chris, this is Theo. He's my new driver. And a bodyguard. Long story, involves my dad being paranoid, don't ask." I slide into the booth, and Theo settles beside me with easy confidence.
"Bodyguard?" Chris's eyebrow rises. "That's very mysterious and also kind of hot. What are we protecting Claire from? Her own terrible life choices? Because if so, you're going to need backup."
Theo laughs, warm and genuine. "I think she's doing alright so far. Though the jury's still out on some recent decisions."
He shoots me a knowing look that makes me want to kick him.
"Interesting." Chris leans forward, deploying what she calls her "full interrogation mode." "So, Theo the Hot Bodyguard, what do you do when you're not following my best friend around?"
"Mostly trying to figure out how someone gets themselves into situations that require a bodyguard in the first place. It's very enlightening."
His grin is pure mischief and I already know how it’s affecting my friend.
"Also, I've gotten really good at standing intimidatingly in the background while looking vaguely threatening."
"You don't look very threatening right now. You look like you should be modeling watches or starring in a romantic comedy where you're the charming best friend who steals the show."
Chris is not subtle. Has never been subtle. Will die having never learned what subtle means.
"Is that a compliment or a career suggestion? Because I'm open to both."
I watch them banter, Chris touching his arm when she laughs, Theo leaning in when he responds.
It's like watching a masterclass in flirting disguised as casual conversation, and for two glorious hours, I'm just Claire. Not the girl with supernatural drama, not someone's mate, not a target.
Just a nineteen-year-old having coffee with her best friend while they roast her life choices and debate whether the barista's man bun is ironic or sincere.
Then Theo's phone rings and when he glances at the screen, his expression shifts to something professional. "Sorry, I need to take this. Work stuff."
He excuses himself to the sidewalk outside and the moment he's gone, Chris pounces.
"Okay, spill. What's actually going on? Bodyguards, living away from your dad—something's up, and I want details."
"It's complicated." I stir my latte with unnecessary focus. "Family stuff. Dad's being extra protective after some security concerns."
"Security concerns. Right." She narrows her eyes, then her gaze drops to my neck and her expression shifts to something knowing and delighted. "Oh my god. Is that a hickey?"
My hand flies to my throat instinctively, which is basically a full confession.
"I KNEW IT!" Chris's squeal makes several patrons turn and stare. "You're sleeping with someone! I can see the evidence right there on your neck, and you have that glow—the 'someone's been giving me regular orgasms' glow!"
She leans across the table, eyes sparkling. "Details. Now. All of them. Who is he? How long? Scale of one to earth-shattering, because that mark is telling me we're in earth-shattering territory."
"Chris—"
"Don't 'Chris' me. You've been holding out, and that's a friendship violation. I need names, descriptions, possibly a full PowerPoint presentation."
"I can't really talk about it right now." I glance toward Theo outside, still on his call. "It's new, and complicated, and there are factors I can't explain."
"Factors." She sits back, studying me. "Mysterious factors. Bodyguards. You've basically vanished for weeks, and your dad's assistant keeps giving me the runaround when I ask where you're staying." Her eyes narrow. "Something happened."
I don't answer, which is answer enough.
"Is he famous? A spy? Both?" She leans forward again. "Are you dating James Bond and didn't tell me? Because if so, our friendship is in serious jeopardy."
Despite everything, I laugh. "He's not James Bond. He's just... private. And there are circumstances that make it complicated to go public right now."
Despite everything, I laugh. "He's not James Bond. He's just… very private. And there are circumstances that make it complicated to go public right now."
"But you're happy?" Her expression softens, concern mixing with excitement. "Like, actually happy? Because you look happy, Claire. Happier than I've seen you in a while."
The question catches me off guard. Am I happy? I'm terrified about half the time, confused about the rest, and apparently cosmically bonded to a werewolf who keeps hiding things from me. But yeah. Despite everything, I'm happy.
"Yeah," I admit quietly. "I'm happy."
"Then I approve." She reaches across and squeezes my hand. "Whoever this mystery man is, if he makes you smile like that, he's got my blessing. But you're introducing me soon, understood? I need to give him the best friend interrogation."
"Understood. I'll arrange the interrogation and terrifying threats."
After we’re done, we say goodbye outside, Chris pulling me into a hug, demanding, "Text me more. I mean it!"
"I promise. And Chris? Thanks. For just being normal with me."
"Always, babe. That's what friends are for."
As soon as I’m in the car, my phone buzzes with texts.
Chris: okay so when do I get to meet the mystery man??
Chris: also theo is FINE
Chris: get his number for me asap!!!!
Chris: 🔥🔥🔥
I laugh, reading them aloud to Theo, who glances over with an amused grin.
"Your friend thinks I'm hot?"
"Don't let it go to your head. Chris thinks everyone's hot. It's her default setting." I type back a response. "But yes, she specifically thinks you're very hot and would like your number for reasons that are probably both flattering and terrifying."
"She's got good taste." His grin widens. "Tell her the feeling's mutual."
The drive back is easy, comfortable in a way that surprises me. No tension, no supernatural drama, just casual conversation about normal things while the city slides past.
For the first time in weeks, I feel lighter. Like maybe, despite everything complicated and dangerous, things might actually be okay.
But then I hear the tires screech, and everything goes to hell. Again.