Ben & Olivia talk to friends.
A swirl of autumn leaves twisted past Ben’s office window. His beta coughed, and the mayor shuffled her feet on the plush carpet. But he ignored them.
​
Not ready to reply, Ben kept his hands planted on his desk while he stared across the square at the roof of Town Hall. His eyes traced each arched window as he worked through Mayor Mulligan’s request. Squeals and laughter drifted on the air outside, preceding a gaggle of children who raced into view, heading straight toward the fountain. One of them shifted into furry form and leapt into the water, drenching the rest, who screamed.
​
Ben sighed. Yup, the kids did need a teacher. But that teacher needed to be a shifter.
​​
Like she knew what he was about to say, Mayor Mulligan placed her hands on his desk and leaned in, breaking the silence with an unasked-for counterargument, “Alpha, I was a human before I mated.”
​
“Yes, but you met your mate, then you learned about shifters, then you came into town for the first time. You see the difference?” Ben posed the question, and when Janet only stared at him through unyielding hazel eyes, he looked over at his beta, Dennis, for backup.
​
Dennis shrugged a meaty shoulder and kept quiet.
​
“I don’t want a human in Beckett Falls.”
​
“We have humans here every year, Beck.” Janet’s tone bordered on petulant, but she held it together, far more professional than him. She always was.
​
“For tourist season, mid-August to mid-October, and done. Not year-round. It’ll be a disaster. Someone will fuck it up and shift in the classroom or call me alpha in front of the teacher.”
​
She scrubbed a hand down her olive-toned face, briefly stretching out the wrinkles etched at the corners of her eyes. “If it helps,” Janet offered dryly, “she’ll have no idea what ‘alpha’ means.”
​
“Doesn’t help. I don’t want a human in my town.” He scowled.
​
“It’s not your town. It belongs to all of us.” She paced before his desk. “Education is under my jurisdiction, and you don’t have to put her in the pack, Alpha. I’m telling you I interviewed a human, as a courtesy, so you can tell everyone that tourist rules are going back into place.”
​
Fair enough. He oversaw protection, the people, and managing projects. She handled permits, codes, and education. It was her choice to make. Ben sighed in time with a gust of wind outside, shaking his head and sending a sandy curl tumbling into his eye.
​
“This is a horrible idea, Janet.” He swiped his hair away.
​
“We’re out of options. Our shifter networks are tapped out, as you know. A few young people from other packs are heading to college to get teaching degrees, but their towns need them. Dennis? Tell him why we need a teacher.” She looked to the beta beseechingly.
​
When Dennis stepped up, broad, freckled arms crossed over his barrel chest, Ben sighed and kicked back in his chair. Across from him, Mulligan smoothed her graying bun and sat down primly.
​
“My kids are nuts, Ben,” he said in a tired voice. “Heather and I are exhausted.”
​
Shit. Denny didn’t pull out a first name unless he was desperate for help. “Ben” was for friend stuff, not pack matters. And Dennis and his wife, Heather, the pack’s other beta, were looking tired lately. Ben figured it was because they were in their forties. Maybe he’d been wrong.
​
“We haven’t had a teacher at all this year, or the end of last, not since Todd Whaley mated with that woman over in Gneiss Lake,” Dennis launched his argument. “We’ve been teaching lessons, poorly, ourselves, and all of us parents are tired of the co-op we have going. The hunt for a shifter-teacher went nowhere, and we’re lucky enough to have a human who wants to move here. Her resume’s also impressive. She’s taught it all, Ben. We were ready to settle, and now we don’t have to. I’m all right with this.”
​
“The families are all fine with it? What about the ones with younger kids? Will they be able to keep themselves under control?”
​
“No one shifts randomly,” Janet said, fixing the lapel of her blazer.
​
“Unless they’re in puberty or unintegrated,” Ben replied, knowing full well he was being argumentative.
​
His beta took a deep breath and ran a hand over top of his sun-faded red hair. “You know that with puberty, random shifts only happen on bad days, and there is some warning. The kids’ll get out of sight if a change is coming. And there is no one here who’s unintegrated. We survive tourist season every year—that’s hundreds of humans at once, not one.”
​
Nodding once, Ben urged Denny to go on.
​
“Heather’s talked to all the families. The only reason she’s not here right now is because someone had to watch Callum and Caleigh, or they’d be tearing up Alpha HQ.”
​
“Your kids aren’t monsters, Denny.” Ben huffed out a laugh.
​
Dennis offered him a flat look. “The kids have already been promised extra desserts to keep their shifting to designated spaces and with their parents only. Please, man. Heather and I need some of our life back. We need to get the kids back in school. Put tourist rules in place.” Dennis’s pale eyes pleaded with him over rounded, ruddy cheeks.
​
“All this happened while I was visiting the city?” Waving a hand between the two of them, he could feel himself softening. “Should I be worried about how quickly you worked while I was away?”
​
Janet laughed, her shoulders relaxing. “You should be impressed by your pack, Alpha. Look at us go.”
​
“I am.”
​
“Plus, odds are she’ll end up mated to someone anyway, and it won’t have to be a secret for long.” Dennis grinned and rested a hand on his belly.
​
“Fair enough. I’m on board. When are you planning to make an offer?”
​
“I already hired her.” Janet jumped up, tossed him a jaunty wave, and darted from the room before he could say anything negative in response.
​
With a quiet smile, Dennis slunk out too.
​
***
​
Ben’s frustration at the pack’s actions and the town’s choices waned further on his walk home. Being alpha came with a certain level of automatic respect; when that was missing, a blast of alpha energy was always an option. But did they respect him as a person? That was a different problem. He was so young compared to most of his enforcers and to Janet. Even his betas had a dozen years on him.
​
It was tough now, but Ben was still new to the role. Once he hit five years, he’d feel better about it, he was certain. All he needed to do was keep his head clear and stay focused on the pack’s well-being. They elected him, they chose him, and he would make the town proud.
With a hot latte from Reads & Roasts in one hand and his phone in the other, he reached out to his friend group chat for their opinions, under no illusion that they didn’t already know the details.
​
Ben
A human. Really?
Noa Spratt
It’ll be fine. My sister thinks it’s a great idea
​
Noa ran the flower shop in town. Her sister and husband had wolf shifter triplets in the fourth grade. Their opinions were valid. Noa’s—who had no kids and was a discreet little fox—not so much.
​
Adam Ableman
It’s going to be fine, Beck
​
Elliott Fitzpatrick
It’ll be fine dude
​
Dennis McKenzie
Told you
​
No one was going to support him on this one. Great.
​
Ben
Fine isn’t good. You’re all jerks
​
Elliott Fitzpatrick
LMAO
Noa Spratt
Stop being such a baby
The conversation continued with Able inviting everyone out to the bar. Dennis couldn’t make it because of his kids, Fitz couldn’t make it because of his personality, but Noa said she’d go, and Ben was happy for the distraction.
​
Already on Beech Street, Ben walked past his own house, hidden from the road up a long drive that wound through the trees. His place was a historical landmark, and named accordingly, with “Northrop House” emblazoned on a plaque at the end of his driveway. It was a beautiful place, he just wished he had a partner to share it with. Someone to be the other alpha, someone who’d understand the demands.
Taking another right on Pine, Ben looped back into town and headed to the Waning Wolf. A breeze floated up from the valley below, bringing with it the scent of autumn and crisp mist from the waterfall.
​
He was about to tap into his wolfy sense of smell for a better sniff when his phone buzzed in his pocket with the quick, repetitive vibrations of a call rather than a text. It was Janet.
​
He bet she wanted to talk details and felt more comfortable on the phone, where he couldn’t blast her with alpha energy.
​
The teacher, Olivia Montclair, would start her new role in three weeks, arriving while Janet was away with her family on vacation.
“You don’t mind meeting her to show her the school, right?”
​
“It’s fine,” he said flatly, stomping an orange maple leaf that had the misfortune of fluttering across his path.
​
“Good!” He could hear her chipper smile as she ignored his clear annoyance. “I’ll let her know. I imagine she’ll want to get in there over the weekend so she can set the place up to start on Monday. Dennis said he’ll do it if you don’t want to.”
​
“No, I’ve got it. I need to introduce myself anyway, explain how the town council president acts as principal, et cetera.” Town council president. He sniffed. Probably an insult to the title of alpha, it was sort of funny when it came down to it. Ben was used to the moniker since it’s what the pack told humans he was during tourist season. As much as he tried to lie low, his office was in the middle of the town he shared a name with. It came up. “She’s staying in one of the Tomlinsons’ apartments, right?”
​
“Yep. We’ll be back on Founders’ Day, in the morning. You think you can keep things under control until then?” She chortled at her own bad joke.
​
If he didn’t like her so much, he’d call her out for insubordination. But Janet was only kidding. Plus, she’d been mayor longer than he’d been alpha—longer than he’d been alive. He respected her position, even if they disagreed from time to time. While every resident was also a member of the pack, Ben and Janet had their distinct domains. It kept things running smoothly. That was the way of Beckett Falls.
​
***
​
A misty rainfall harassed Olivia as she wound her way toward her new home. There was too much water to keep the wipers off but not enough to keep them from squeaking, and her music wasn’t drowning it out. Still, the annoyance couldn’t dampen her excitement. Liv couldn’t wait to start her new teaching job, her new life, in a teeny tiny little town tucked away in a wooded valley so far north, it was practically in Canada. Her phone buzzed with an incoming call, and after a quick glance at the old photo of her bestie, she blindly tapped the answer button without taking her left hand off the wheel.
​
“Fern, my lovey, how are you?”
​
“You left me.” The whine that came through her speakerphone harmonized with the squeak of her wipers. “What was that? What am I looking at? It’s pitch black.”
​
“That’s my car ceiling. I’m driving.”
​
With a dramatic sigh, Fern continued, “I have no one! I can’t believe you fled.”
​
Still going strong on its third week, Fern’s now-familiar rant had undergone a tense change. Olivia wasn’t going to leave, she’d left. She wasn’t planning to flee, she’d fled. With a sigh, Liv argued, “I didn’t flee. Plus, you have Renata. Didn’t you get brunch today?”
​
“No. She’s busy with Scott, always. This is just like when you were with ... him.”
​
It wasn’t precisely the same, Liv didn’t think. She hoped not. Scott was a little bit of an asshole, but Kadin, her shitbag ex, had been truly horrendous in hindsight. He was also the city pack’s alpha, which didn’t help. Rejoining her parents’ pack, after her relationship with Kadin ended, transferred her magical connection to her hometown, but Liv still lived in the city for two more years. Until now. She supposed she had fled.
​
Fern couldn’t know about that side of Olivia’s life, not as a human. But Liv had a multitude of reasons for leaving—things she could talk about. There was her shitty school administration, and of course, her parents. Fern had no idea they were alphas, but she knew them as the owners of a real estate development firm, so their entitlement and success-driven decision making still made sense in conversation.
Someday, Liv would find someone, a shifter friend, to talk through her issues with. For now, she had Fern. Tough parents and crummy exes were something she and her best friend had in common. Liv was so disconnected from her own mom and dad, she hadn’t even told them she was moving. She’d mentioned it to her brother, though. It was fine.
​
“It’s not too late to turn around, Livvy.”
​
“Fern! I’m excited about this.”
​
“Ugh, I know,” she scoffed, and Olivia chuckled. “I’m worried. That tiny-ass town has you dropping everything for them. They’re paying for a place for you to live, and you’ll teach all—what—twenty of their kids?”
​
“Twelve, actually.” Slowing as the rain picked up again, Liv scanned the dark highway for her turn.
​
“Twelve?! I can’t wrap my head around that.”
​
“I promise it’s going to be good. It’s just ... small-town things. I’m used to them. My family traveled north a lot when I was younger.” Though she hadn’t been to this town specifically, she’d been to similar places. Liv could make the culture shift work, in fact, she craved it. She needed the change of pace, affirmed by the dark woods and empty roads around her.
​
“If you say so.”
​
“Listen, lovey, I should get going. The weather sucks.”
​
“Oh, you really want to get rid of me, huh?”
​
Olivia laughed, picking up her phone and propping it on the steering wheel. “Absolutely not, I need my GPS, and your beautiful face is hogging my screen.”
​
Rolling her eyes so hard her hair tossed, Fern asked, “You’ll have cell service up there?”
​
“Yes. It’s not the middle of nowhere.” Liv grimaced. “Actually, it kind of is. That’s why I wanted the job. But they live in the twenty-first century, just like us.” She was pretty sure the shifters of Beckett Falls were the modern sort. But she hadn’t thought to ask. They wouldn’t be seeking an outsider if they were ultra-traditional. At the very least, she knew they had Wi-Fi.
​
A long street sign reflected her headlights back at her, and Liv slowed to a crawl before making a left on Wrentham River Road. She couldn’t be far from town now.
​
“Lovey—”
​
“I know, I know. Text me or call me back as soon as you get to your new place.”
​
“Of course. I miss you.”
​
“I miss you too. Byeeee!” With that, Fern ended the call.
​
Olivia switched back to her navigation app and was informed she had four miles to her destination, a gatehouse at the entrance to town. Beyond that point, she’d been warned, her GPS wouldn’t function.​​
TWO
Olivia & Ben walk in the rain.
The rain slowed to an irregular rhythm, and asphalt gave way to packed dirt the farther Liv got from the highway. Although she was dying to get to her new apartment, she rested her foot on the brake and slowed down a smidge. She had excellent night vision, but real humans did not, and she was currently moonlighting as one. So, it was best to act the part.
​
The forest crowded the sides of the only road into Beckett Falls. Had the rain stopped, or was it being blocked by leaves? Her headlights reflected off a sign, half swallowed by a tree. “BEWARE OF WILD ANIMALS,” it read, in all caps, with a silhouette of a bear lumbering across the yellow diamond. Someone had added the word “OF” in marker. She snorted.
​
Large boulders broke up the scant spaces between trees, some awash with fuzzy moss and rough lichens, some clean and gray. They all looked fun to climb. Behind a distant rock, hardly more than a shadow in the woods, a pair of glowing eyes stared back at her unblinking.
Slowing further, she scanned the forest, curious if any other residents watched her approach. Her gaze distracted by another boulder, Olivia didn’t notice the washed-out patch of road until she was smack in the middle of it, wheels spinning and car tipping slightly forward.
​
“Shit.” She rocked in her seat as hard as she could and gave it another shot, revving the engine and hoping her tiny, belonging-laden hatchback would get it together and go. Nothing happened except more splattering mud and spinning tires. Grumbling about bad ideas and worse weather, she pulled on her discarded jacket, pushed her curls into her hood, and climbed out to assess the situation.
​
Olivia stepped into a flash flood.
​
All right, it wasn’t that bad, but there was plenty of mud and a few inches of water rushing past her. Her front right tire was stuck in a depression where the edge of the road fell away, crumbling down toward the river in a pop-up waterfall. Her car would probably survive with so many trees between it and the river, but if it didn’t? Eh, it was nearing the end of its life anyway.
​
Resigned, Liv grabbed her keys, phone, and purse, then popped the trunk to fish through her things. Her entire life was jammed in there, and she now had the obnoxious task of finding one night’s worth of clothing and a toothbrush while standing in ankle-deep mud, in the dark, in the middle of the woods. At least she’d labeled her boxes.
​
A quick check of her GPS confirmed there was a mile between her and the gatehouse—a cabin, Mayor Mulligan said—on the outskirts of town. It took a few minutes, and she had to close and reopen her car doors to re-trigger the interior light, but she rustled up a bag she could use and stuffed in a change of clothes and something to sleep in, plus some dry shoes. Her toothbrush was a little more elusive, but one night wouldn’t kill her. She at least found toothpaste.
​
Liv clicked her keys, and her car gave a little beep beep in farewell as she set off down the shitty road, hoping she hadn’t made the worst decision of her adult life coming to such a rural town. Starting a mate bond with Kadin five years back currently held first place, and that had been a bad choice. She’d hate to top it.
​
One mile wasn’t far at all, though the weather could be nicer. Her boot sucked into a mud puddle and re-emerged with a squelch. Liv paused to kick a rock, partly out of frustration and partly to smush her foot back into her shoe. Then she continued, hoping someone would drive by and take pity on her, a poor, weak little human.
​
Pretending to be human was easy when you smelled like one. As an inert shifter, born with an animal buried so deep she’d never changed forms, Liv faced judgment her entire life from functional shifters. The worst of it came from her parents and their expectations. She’d failed to meet them by being born the way she was. They wanted an alpha wolf for a child, and she was just Olivia.
Sure, she had fantastic night vision, could run preternaturally fast when her fight or flight was triggered, and could hear higher pitches than any true human she knew. But she’d never met her animal, not the way most shifters did.
She didn’t have rapid healing abilities, in fact, she got sick every winter. She couldn’t smell more keenly than her friends. She couldn’t change forms, and perhaps most importantly, she didn’t have that constant presence in her chest.
With a huff, Liv kicked a rock—just to let off steam—and stomped through a soggy pile of leaves.
Her brother Luca, the alpha wolf offspring her parents craved, told her all about the sensation during their many fruitless attempts at trying to trigger her first shift.
“She’ll scrabble at the inside of your ribs when she’s ready to surface or when you’ve pissed her off,” Luca said countless times.
Liv’s animal wasn’t ready, or she hadn’t pissed her off enough.
Luca was a good brother, so she didn’t fault him for being their parents’ favorite. It wasn’t his choice.
That judgment, from her parents, from those who knew—she was sick of it. It was why she’d settled in the city to start her teaching career some six years earlier, in a place where she could exist among humans and still, vaguely, be part of a pack. While she craved a meaningful connection like that again, Liv decided life as a human was her best option. Beckett Falls offered the perfect opportunity to live in a shifter town as an unknown. Maybe, just maybe, it would come with some of the cultural benefits, the support of a pack, without judgment for her status.
​
The soft crunch of a leaf drew her eyes north, toward the ridge. Something sleek and dark wove through the trees fifty-ish yards away. Whoever it was, because it was definitely a shifter, was stalking her trek toward town. She was almost positive they’d been following before she got stuck. True predators, the type that couldn’t turn into people, were rare in areas where shifters roamed. They smelled the mixture of a fellow woodland creature and human on one animal and hightailed it to less populated areas.
​
Realizing a normal person would most likely be scared in her situation, she aimed for a spot ahead of the animal in the woods and called out, “Hello? Is someone out there?”
​
It was probably a wolf, maybe a bear, definitely a pack enforcer keeping an eye on her approach. Olivia knew how these things worked, and it didn’t frighten her one bit. If anything, it ticked her off. They saw her car stuck in the mud, saw she was struggling to hike into town on a crappy early-November night, then they stalked her from a distance instead of coming to help. They could’ve shifted back and pretended to be a hiker, no one would be weirded out by that, not in the mountains. But no, she only got creeped on.
​
Eventually, the predator—a wolf, she was almost positive—veered away and climbed the ridge toward town. Another ten minutes and she spotted a light through the trees. Five more minutes of walking took her to a small wooden cabin in the shadow of the ridge. Even with the river rushing on the opposite side of the road, a shifter would’ve heard her coming. When Olivia was ten feet from the cabin, the door flew open, and a hulking man blocked out all the light inside as he stepped onto the tiny porch.
​
She raised her hand in greeting.
​
***
​
Ben’s wolf was out for a run when he heard tires slapping on wet pavement several miles off. Abandoning the rotten log that had previously held his attention, his wolf turned and raced toward the sound. It was one of those chilly, drizzly nights before the weather turned snowy for winter. The rain had let up a few minutes before, but neither he nor his wolf thought it would hold off for long.
​
Sticking close to the edge of town, his wolf ran due south through the trees, weaving between pines and firs. When he hit the ridge overlooking Wrentham River Road, he paused to sniff the air. Hidden beneath the sweetness of damp forest floor, car exhaust, and a definite oil leak, he scented something delicious, something that immediately called to his animal.
​
“All right, we're in protection mode,” Ben mused as his wolf shot down the steep slope, keeping to the trees and trailing the rattly jalopy up the river road.
​
When she got stuck in a washout, he cursed.
​
“C’mon man, we have to help,” he called to his wolf, who stood stock still, waiting, watching the car.
​
His wolf never answered—he couldn’t, he was a wild animal—but all shifters swore their creatures understood.
​
A woman climbed out of the hatchback, directly into the mud. Big hair that warped her hood and a figure hidden by an anorak were all he could make out at a distance. She assessed the situation and, looking resigned, popped the trunk.
​
Another deep inhale brought a wave of heady deliciousness, like lemon meringue, light and sweet. He had to fight his wolf to stop him from howling.
​
“Shift or get to the gatehouse. Come on.”
​
His wolf sat down in response.
​
With a bag slung over her back, Miss Montclair—he assumed—tucked her phone in her pocket and started trudging up the road. His wolf followed.
​
“Let’s go. Not that way.”
​
Creeping along, he kept stalking her like a weirdo.
​
A few minutes in, Ben tried again, only for his animal to respond in the same way: by ignoring him.
​
At one point, the woman froze in the middle of the road and turned in his direction. There was no way she could see him, far off in the trees, but he stilled on instinct, just in case. He could’ve sworn they made eye contact.
​
Swiveling so she looked up toward town, she called out, asking if someone was there.
​
His stupid wolf almost barked in reply.
​
Pleading internally, Ben said, “Come on. Go home, let me shift back. We’ll get the car. We’ll go help her.”
​
“Mate.” The word shuddered through Ben as though his wolf had, impossibly, growled it in conversation.
​
Fuck. He hoped she wasn’t a potential mate. He didn’t have time for that. His beast finally turned tail and rocketed up the ridge toward home. Passing the lumber yard, his wolf looped around the outside edge of Dogwood Terrace before cutting through the construction zone and Dennis and Heather McKenzie’s land. Then he raced onto the back porch of Northrop House, the alpha’s estate, home.
​
A familiar stretch and squeeze worked its way through Ben as his human consciousness stepped to the forefront and his body retook its two-legged form. Naked as always after a shift, his clothes turned up a split second later in a pile on the floor beside him. He preferred shifting indoors whenever possible, it kept his clothes from getting dirty or landing somewhere unfortunate, like in a river or up a tree.
​
Hopping into his jeans, Ben hobbled into the kitchen while he dealt with the zipper. His phone and keys were on the counter, and a hoodie waited on the back of a dining chair. Geared up, he headed straight for the garage, not once stopping to question his urgency, though he did pause to debate which car to take, the Jeep or the truck. His Jeep was the best choice, safest for the weather and snazzier than the pickup.
​
His wolf agreed.
​
“Since when do you care about cars?”
​
He was only driving down so Fitz didn’t have to leave his post to bring her up, no other reason. It was the right thing to do as alpha. The safe thing to do.
​
Hauling ass down Balsam Street, Ben flew out of town faster than was necessary. He took a hard right on Wrentham River Road, and it wasn’t long before his headlights landed on the back of the gatehouse. A frisson of excitement zinged down his spine. Parking next to Fitz’s truck, he hopped out and homed in on their conversation. Their laughter.
​
His teeth locked together, his wolf lunged for the surface, and Ben rubbed his knuckles against his sternum as he peeked through the window to make sure his passenger seat was clean.
​
She was safe, she had found help. So, why was he jealous?
​
He couldn’t fight the feeling and tried to stop for a calming breath before rounding the side of the cabin. His wolf didn’t like the pause and propelled him forward, shoving Ben onto the porch and directly into their conversation.
​
“Fitz.” He stared at the wrong person, realized he had to stop that shit, and flung his gaze up to Elliott Fitzpatrick’s face.
​
“Beck, thanks for coming down.” Fitz flashed him a curious look before turning back to the stunning, though sodden, woman.
​
Ben had turned off his super-sniffer, but she still smelled tantalizing. Fuck, she was gorgeous. Maybe half a foot shorter than him, her thick, dark hair fell to her shoulders, so tightly coiled he wondered how long it’d be when wet. She glanced at him through big brown eyes set against tawny skin. Amusement arched her brows.
​
With a tight-lipped smile, Ben bobbed his chin in greeting, which sent a sodden curl of his own hair into his eye.
​
“Everything’s under control. We’re going down to pull out her car. Or I’ll push it.” His friend shrugged.
​
Elliott was a bear of a man, literally, topping Ben’s not insubstantial height by a good four inches, with the brawn to match. Fitz could probably extract the vehicle without making his extreme strength obvious to the human. Still, Ben was outrageously uncomfortable with the idea. His wolf wouldn’t stop yowling in protest—distracting stuff.
​
“Beck? I’ll pull out the car, she’ll be on her way. It’s no problem. Yeah?” Fitz chuckled, shoving a hand in the pocket of his jeans.
​
“No,” he growled.
​
Both of them looked at Ben, surprised. Scratch that—all three of them were surprised. Why’d he growl? Was that the first thing he said to her?
​
“No?” Miss Montclair asked as she stepped away, putting distance between them that settled her closer to Elliott.
​
He’d never wanted to rip out his best friend’s throat before. That was a new feeling. He could claw Fitz’s pretty eyes out quickly, then scoot over and get back to where he could feel the heat radiating off Miss Montclair’s body. Ben fought the urge. He wasn’t in the business of being creepy . . . or murderous.
​
Fitz wore a highly amused look as he leaned against the door frame, fiddling with his topknot and watching their stilted exchange with one of his hands in his pockets.
​
“I’ll take Miss . . .” Ben didn’t want to assume it was the teacher, but this had to be her, right?
​
“Montclair.”
​
“Miss Montclair up to town.” Knew it. “That’s where you’re going, right?”
​
“Yes.”
​
“She’s the new teacher,” Fitz interjected.
​
Yup. He was right. A smug sense of relief warmed Ben’s chest—an odd combination. “Good. Let’s go.”
​
She swung her gaze to him. “I’m not in the habit of letting strangers take me home.”
​
Fair enough. It wasn’t like he was in the habit of taking strangers home. “Oh? Do you prefer to walk up there?”
​
“No. I was planning to get my car out of the mud and drive to my new apartment.”
​
“And how are you going to do that?”
​
“With his help.” She pointed at Elliott.
​
"We need Fitz here at the gatehouse. We’ll deal with it when we can. I’ll give you a ride. Let’s go.” Ben put a little alpha oomph into his words and prayed they’d breach her human sensibilities. It was either that or beg.