Clara’s pov
The man walked into Theo’s coffee shop like the room belonged to him.
I was at the counter waiting for my usual when the bell over the door rang.
Theo looked up, and the easy posture he always had around regulars shifted into something more careful.
The newcomer was tall, dark-haired, wearing a plain black jacket and the kind of stillness that didn’t come from being quiet, it came from being used to people getting out of his way.
He didn’t look at the menu. He looked at me.
Not long. Just a second. But the heat in my chest was still sensitive after silencing that shifter’s wolf the night before, flared once in recognition of another dominant presence.
My wolf went alert, not hostile, just sharply interested.
Theo cleared his throat. “Help you?”
“Black coffee. Large.
