MAVERICK
The bell over Sweet Temptations rang when I stepped inside, and my wolf went still. Sugar, cinnamon, coffee—then Demi beneath it all. Warm. Bright. Mine. The bond pulled hard enough to make my hand curl at my side. Conversations softened around me. A spoon paused against a saucer. Two customers looked up, then looked away too quickly, as if a storm had stepped into a bakery and they were trying not to make eye contact with the weather.
Crescent City had changed since I last saw it. More color. More noise. More strangers moving through streets that used to feel half-asleep. Her bakery sat near the promenade, close enough for salt air to slip under the door and tangle with vanilla. It suited her: impossible to ignore, impossible not to want closer.
I had wasted two days preten
