LOGINThe declaration hits low and hot and wrong in a way that makes my body arch beneath him.Ezra groans softly.“There,” he murmurs against my throat as he lowers himself over me. “That’s what I’ve been smelling.”His face buries against my neck, inhaling deeply enough that I shiver all over. He starts rubbing against me slowly, dragging his body along mine with deliberate pressure that dissolves my thoughts.He’s heavy everywhere. Solid muscle and warmth and expensive fabric dragging against my skin while he buries his face against my throat. His hands smooth down my sides, gripping my waist, his nose drags along my jaw, through my hair. Every breath he takes sounds rougher than the last.Horrifyingly, my body responds to all of it. He’s trying to cover me in himself and my eyes flutter shut.The sour lingering wrongness from Darren fades beneath him.“Ezra,” I whisper shakily.“Still smell wrong.” His mouth brushes the sensitive spot beneath my ear. “Can’t stand it.”The possessiveness
I stare at him. Yep, he’s finally lost whatever fragile grip he had on sanity.He stares right back at me, one hand still buried at the nape of my neck, dark eyes fixed on my face.The shopping bags hanging off my arms feel ridiculous. Tiny little paper shields against whatever the hell this moment is becoming.“You can't ask people things like that,” I tell him, trying for offended and landing somewhere closer to breathless. “You sound like a jealous Victorian husband.”Ezra doesn’t blink. “You let another male touch you,”That sends a weird little tremor through me. Those words aren’t sexy, absolutely should not be sexy. But there’s something underneath them, raw, furious in a way I’ve never seen from him.Usually Ezra hides everything behind polished smiles and expensive sweaters and dry little comments that make me want to bite him. Tonight he looks wrecked by me.The evening light catches sharp angles of his face as he stands over me on the deck. Heat blooms low in my stomach.So
“You literally gave me chlamydia.” I blink at him flatly. “In my defense, I didn’t know.”“Strong defence.”His grin widens. “Come get dinner with me.”“No.”“Drink?”“No.”“Coffee?”I hold up my iced coffee. “Already sorted, thanks.”He sighs dramatically, as if I’m being difficult instead of maintaining basic survival instincts. Before I can dodge him, he grabs me into another hug.And does something weird, even for him. He inhales deeply against my hair, sending a shudder violently down my spine.Revulsion simmers as every instinct in my body screams. Darren goes strangely still, his grip tightens fractionally.“What perfume is that?” he murmurs.“I’m gonna need you to stop smelling me like a mutt.”A car horn sounds nearby and my Uber pulls up beside the curb, divine intervention itself.“Thank Christ.”I wrench free and practically dive toward the car. Darren catches my wrist lightly before I can open the door.“You disappeared, Frankie.” The seriousness in his voice catches me
The daycare kids are either tiny geniuses or future supervillains. There is genuinely no middle ground.It’s been four days since the whole naked-balcony-furry-forest-fight incident, and somehow nobody has acknowledged it directly since. Which feels more disturbing than if they’d sat me down with a PowerPoint presentation titled So You Accidentally Joined A Cult.Instead, life has carried on with this bizarre, unsettling normalcy that keeps making me question whether I imagined half of it. The children still growl occasionally. One little girl hissed at a pigeon yesterday. A toddler named Max climbed a bookshelf without using his hands. And this morning, a five-year-old looked me dead in the eyes and said, “You smell happier now,” before biting another child over a juice box dispute.I did paperwork after that. Mostly because I needed a moment.Still, despite the deeply concerning feral undertones, I kind of love it here.Which feels suspicious.The kids are too clever. They absorb in
“The world’s a shitty place,” he says quietly. “So I’m gonna teach you some important things.”The words catch me off guard. Not because they’re dramatic, River doesn’t speak dramatically, he says things plainly.Because nobody’s ever taught me things before just because they wanted me safer. I cover quickly with sarcasm because emotional vulnerability is for people with stable childhoods.“What, like taxes?”“Self-defense.”“Oh.”River steps closer until the toes of his boots are a breath from mine. Slowly, giving me every opportunity to pull away, he lifts one hand and tips my chin upward gently.Heat floods through me as his thumb brushes once across my cheekbone.“You’re small,” he murmurs.“That is the first time anyone has ever said that.” I huff a laugh. “River, my dear, I am not small.”“You’re smaller than me, than us.” His gaze skims down my body. “Perfect.”I blink.“People underestimate you because you smile when you’re uncomfortable.”That one lands directly in my unresol
River does not explain the tail.Which, personally, I think is wildly unfair considering I just watched Corrian tackle three furries who were talking shit about me into the forest like a divorced dad at a rugby match.Instead, he waits patiently while I finish dragging my jeans on the correct way around, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest like this is a completely normal Tuesday morning and not the beginning of my psychological collapse.“You gonna murder me?” I ask finally.River blinks once. “No.”“Kidnap me into your weird woodland mascot cult?”“No.”“Gaslight me about the ears?”A pause.“Yes.”“At least you’re honest.”That almost-smile appears again. Tiny and barely there unless you’re looking for it.I hate that I’m already learning his expressions.He pushes off the wall then and crosses the room toward me with that same unnerving silence that clings to him like smoke. The others fill space naturally, River somehow moves through the world without d







