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Ofelia Rosario - I take pride in being smart, careful, and independent. Fostering a pregnant cat was supposed to be the one soft thing in my life—until the fire. I stayed too long trying to save Spitfire, and I nearly didn’t make it out. But Zach Dayton pulled me from the flames—calm, strong, and way too charming. He’s everything I shouldn’t want. Everything that scares me. But he keeps showing up, helping, and making me laugh when I want to cry. And Spitfire? She seems convinced we belong together. Maybe love isn’t something you can logic your way around. Maybe it’s something you lean into. Zach Dayton - Falling in love isn’t supposed to feel more dangerous than running into a burning building. But then there’s Ofelia—stubborn, guarded, beautiful Ofelia. I was just doing my job when I found her trying to shield a pregnant cat from the smoke. But the second I saw her, something shifted. I’ve always believed I’m not built for love—too much loss, too many close calls. But she makes me want to try anyway. The way she looks at me, the way she fights for that cat, for herself… she doesn’t need a hero. But maybe she’ll let me be hers anyway. Book 8 in the Ravenwood Series. It can be read as a standalone. However, to learn about the characters and past events that may be referenced, you should check out the rest of the series. Book 1 - The Princes of Ravenwood (Zach's first appearance) Book 2 - Chasing Kitsune Book 3 - Expect the Unexpected Book 4 - Out of My League Book 5 - Man's Best Wingman (Ofelia's first appearance) Book 6 - Troubled Heart Book 7 - A Bark in the Park
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The Purrfect Wingman Epilogue - Spitfire
I prowled the perimeter of the garden like any competent commander would. The sun hung low in the sky, warm and golden, casting a soft shimmer across the petals that littered the cobblestone walk like nature’s version of confetti. Humans oohed and aahed over the setup, white chairs lined in perfect rows, satin ribbons flapping in the breeze, blossoms spilling from urns that were clearly more decorative than functional. But this wasn’t about aesthetics. This was about security. Stability. Control. This was my domain. I wore the floral collar Ofelia had bribed me into with a piece of grilled chicken. Daisies. A touch of lavender. Something pale and pink I couldn’t identify, but it didn’t offend me. It sat lightly against my fur, and I tolerated it because it matched the mood. And because I looked good in it. Obviously. Mochi, bless his foolish heart, had been strapped into a bowtie harness. A powder blue disaster with tiny white stitched stars. He strutted like he owned the place,
Last Updated : 2025-07-30The Purrfect Wingman Epilogue - Ofelia
It was hot. The kind of June heat that stuck to your spine and made even the fanciest robes feel like weighted blankets soaked in regret. But I didn’t care. I stood in the middle of the Rutgers lawn, diploma in hand, doctoral hood draped down my back, surrounded by so much noise and joy that it felt like my whole chest might burst from it. Four years. Four years of midnight papers, trauma rotations, clinicals, stacked shifts, patient charts, therapy sessions, burnout, breakdowns, and breakthroughs. And now? Dr. Ofelia Rosario, PhD. I adjusted the square of my cap and scanned the crowd. Zach was the first face I found, easy to spot in a sea of red and white, thanks to the two cat ears poking out of a mesh backpack carrier slung over one shoulder. Spitfire, of course, refused to miss my big day. Mochi was nowhere to be seen, probably asleep in Zach’s crossbody bag, his default travel mode. My parents were there; my dad, Jari, dabbed his eyes behind his sunglasses, while my mo
Last Updated : 2025-07-29The Purrfect Wingman Epilogue - Zach
It had been just over a month since Jane was handed a restraining order and quietly admitted to McLean Hospital for a three-month inpatient mental health hold. Publicly, she was on a “wellness sabbatical” in St. Barts. Privately, the world was a whole lot quieter. No cryptic posts. No flowers. No flickers of her shadow on security footage. It should’ve felt like peace. But now, with Christmas looming and snow caking the windows of the train bound for Boston, I was chewing the inside of my cheek like it owed me money. “Relax,” Ofelia murmured, fingers brushing against mine. “We don’t have to stay the whole time. A day and a half. Max.” She sounded calm. But I could feel the tension in her body, the way she kept smoothing the leg of her jeans like they were going to wrinkle just from existing. The backpack carriers helped. Mochi was curled inside mine, fast asleep, tail tucked to his chin, while Spitfire rode in Ofelia’s, eyes sharp and unimpressed, watching the train’s aisle like sh
Last Updated : 2025-07-29The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 42 - Spitfire
It was mine. All of it. The couch. The rug. The worn hoodie that smelled like burned wood and salt. The six tiny disasters tearing across the living room like someone owed them money. From my throne, the folded blanket on the back of the couch, elevated, frayed just enough to feel earned, I watched them. This was the kingdom I built. They used to be fragile. Squeaky little puffs that couldn’t find their own tails. Now? Now, at nearly two months of age, they were a six-part stampede of fur, claws, and very poor judgment. And I was proud. Freya launched herself from the windowsill to the arm of the chair. Missed by half an inch and recovered like she meant to fall. Nova knocked over a cup of pens and looked directly at me as it clattered to the floor, like she knew I’d approve. I did. Cloud dragged a hair tie into his makeshift lair under the bookshelf. Goose had somehow acquired one of Ofelia’s socks and was parading around with it like a trophy. Pesto scaled the scratching post
Last Updated : 2025-07-28The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 41 - Ofelia
Some days at the hospital felt like a blur. Others, like today, hummed with something quieter. Not peace, exactly. But the space right before it. The art therapy room was warm and dimly lit, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a soft view of the city’s skyline. It always smelled faintly like pai
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 39 - Ofelia
By the time I sat down to finalize the file with Makayla, I was running on black coffee, leftover arroz con pollo, and adrenaline. The kittens were asleep in a lopsided pile on the heating pad in the corner, and Spitfire had assumed her usual supervisory post atop the bookshelf like she was waiting
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 38 - Zach
I called my parents the next morning. It wasn’t a spontaneous move, I spent most of the night thinking about it, lying beside Ofelia, watching the ceiling while she slept with one leg slung over mine like she had every right to claim space there. She did. And that’s why I had to do this. When the
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 37 - Ofelia
The hospital’s fluorescent lights hit different the morning after great sex. I was bone-tired, sure, physically stretched and emotionally undone, but there was a distinct hum under my skin. Like a current. Like my body remembered every way Zach had touched it and wasn’t quite ready to return to nor
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