The Things I Can't Do To You

Six Donuts

Jake barely remembered the drive home. The streets of Birmingham blurred beyond the windscreen while the engine purred beneath him, every familiar junction passing almost unnoticed. He drove the route so often he could have managed it with his eyes closed, yet tonight his concentration drifted back to the same pair of blue-green eyes every few seconds.

It made no sense.

He had spent years building a life around control. Control over his business. Control over the pack. Control over himself. Tonight, for the first time in years, he felt as though something inside him had ignored every rule he'd ever lived by.

Kade refused to settle. Normally, once danger had passed, the restless energy faded within minutes. The instinct to protect eased until it became little more than a quiet awareness beneath his skin.

Not tonight. Every instinct screamed that he had left something important behind. Someone. Jake tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

"Enough."

The single word disappeared into the silence of the car. His wolf ignored him. He could still smell her. Honey and vanilla. Something unmistakably Amelia that lingered in his memory despite the rain, the crowded pub and the dozens of other scents that had filled the room.

He had only stood beside her for a matter of minutes yet every time he closed his eyes he felt the warmth of her shoulder beneath his arm again. He remembered the way she'd relaxed almost immediately, as though some part of her had recognised he wasn't a threat. Most people stayed tense around strangers. Amelia hadn't. She had simply... trusted him.

That unsettled him almost as much as everything else. She shouldn't have trusted anyone that quickly. Not after what that man had been doing.

Daniel.

The name surfaced with a low growl somewhere deep inside him. Jake hadn't imagined the possessiveness rolling from the man. Humans often mistook persistence for charm, but Daniel's intentions had carried an edge Jake recognised immediately. There had been frustration beneath the smiles. Irritation each time Amelia had tried to end the conversation. Hunger disguised as politeness.

Kade had recognised it before his human mind had. That was why he'd intervened. At least, that was what he'd told himself. Now he wasn't entirely sure. The memory replayed itself.

"There you are, sweetheart."

He almost smiled despite himself. It had been impulsive and completely against his normal approach to life. Normally he planned everything. Instead, the words had simply appeared, as natural as breathing.

The strange part was not that he'd pretended to know her. The strange part was how true it had felt. He needed sleep. Everything would seem more logical in the morning.

The city gradually gave way to quieter roads lined with mature trees and detached houses hidden behind brick walls and wrought-iron gates. Ten minutes later he turned through a pair of open gates onto the long driveway leading towards Harper House.

Calling it a house had always felt misleading.

It was large enough to qualify as a country estate despite sitting on the outskirts of the city. Built from warm sandstone over two centuries earlier, it had been expanded and modernised by successive generations without losing its character. Ivy climbed one wing while carefully maintained gardens stretched across several acres beyond.

To most people it simply looked like an old family home. To the Harper pack, it was their heart. Light still glowed from the kitchen windows.

Jake smiled faintly. His mother was awake. Of course she was.

Evelyn Harper possessed an almost supernatural ability to know when one of her children needed her.

He let himself inside without bothering to lock the door behind him. The familiar scent of fresh bread and cinnamon drifted through the hallway.

Home. His shoulders relaxed for the first time all evening.

"You were longer than I expected."

Her voice floated from the kitchen before he had even reached the doorway. Jake stepped inside. Evelyn stood beside the large oak island arranging six donuts onto a plate. Her silver-blonde hair was loosely pinned back and she wore a soft blue cardigan over jeans, looking more like someone's favourite primary school teacher than the widow of an Alpha.

She glanced up and the smile she wore disappeared almost immediately.

"What happened?"

Jake blinked.

"I haven't said anything."

"You don't need to."

She studied him for another second before placing the plate down.

"You've got that expression."

"What expression?"

"The one you had when you were twelve and tried to convince me you hadn't climbed the old oak tree."

Jake laughed quietly.

"I made it almost halfway."

"You broke your arm."

"I was optimistic."

"You were impossible."

She crossed the kitchen and pulled him into a hug before he could protest. Jake hugged her back automatically. He hadn't realised how much he needed it. When she stepped away she looked at him carefully.

"This isn't about work."

"No."

"The pack?"

"No."

"You've met someone."

Jake stared. His mother folded her arms with unmistakable satisfaction.

"I knew it."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

He shook his head.

"I haven't met someone."

"You've absolutely met someone."

"I met a woman."

"There we are."

"I said met. Not met met."

Evelyn bit back a smile.

"There is a difference?"

"There is."

She gestured towards one of the stools.

"Sit down."

Jake obeyed. Within moments a mug of coffee appeared in front of him exactly the way he liked it. His mother settled opposite him.

"So."

"So?"

"Tell me about the woman."

Jake wrapped both hands around the mug.

"I stopped at The Fox and Chance after work."

"I know the one."

"There was a woman sitting alone reading."

His mother nodded encouragingly.

"A man approached her."

"What kind of man?"

"The kind who mistakes politeness for encouragement."

Understanding flickered across Evelyn's face.

"He wouldn't leave."

Jake nodded.

"She kept trying to end the conversation. Every time she did, he ignored her."

"And no one intervened?"

"They didn't realise what was happening."

"Because she stayed polite."

"Exactly."

Evelyn sighed quietly.

"How many women have found themselves in that position?"

"Too many."

Jake looked into his coffee.

"I couldn't just watch."

"So you stepped in."

"I pretended to be her boyfriend."

His mother smiled.

"I did wonder where your dramatic streak came from."

"It worked."

"I'm sure it did."

Jake found himself smiling too.

"Then what?"

"For a second she thought I was making things worse."

Evelyn laughed softly.

"Reasonable."

"But the moment she realised what I was doing..."

His voice faded.

"What happened?" Evelyn asked gently.

Jake hesitated.

"I don't know."

She waited.

"There was this feeling."

"What sort of feeling?"

"I've never experienced it before."

He searched for the right words.

"It was like..."

His brow furrowed.

"...like every instinct I possess suddenly focused on one person."

His mother didn't interrupt.

"I couldn't stop watching her."

Jake rubbed a hand across his jaw.

"Not because I wanted anything from her."

"No?"

"No."

"I just..."

He frowned again.

"I needed to know she was safe."

The silence stretched between them.

"When I put my arm around her," he continued quietly, "my wolf went completely still."

Evelyn's expression changed almost imperceptibly. Jake missed it.

"It wasn't excitement," he said.

"It was certainty." his mother nodded.

He looked up.

"I've never felt anything like it."

His mother was studying him with unusual intensity.

"What did she smell like?"

Jake frowned.

"That's an odd question."

"Answer it."

He hesitated.

"Honey."

"And?"

"Vanilla."

"There was something else."

"What?"

"I don't know."

"You recognised it?"

"Yes."

"From where?"

"I've never met her before."

"But you recognised it."

Jake slowly nodded.

"I just... did."

Evelyn leaned back in her chair.

"What colour were her eyes?"

"Blue."

He smiled without meaning to.

"With little green flecks."

"And you noticed that in a crowded pub?"

Jake realised what he'd admitted. His mother didn't miss his smile.

"You know what this sounds like."

"I know what it sounds like."

"And?"

"I don't believe it."

"Why?"

"Because werewolves finding human mates are stories."

"They're history."

"They're exceptionally rare."

"They are."

"They practically don't happen anymore."

"No."

Evelyn folded her hands together.

"They simply haven't happened to anyone you know."

Jake looked unconvinced.

"I met one woman for fifteen minutes."

"You met one woman."

"And now I can't stop thinking about her."

His mother smiled sadly.

"I wondered if I'd live to see this conversation."

Jake stared.

"You seriously think..."

"I think your wolf has recognised something before your mind has."

Jake laughed once. Disbelieving.

"This is ridiculous."

"Is it?"

"I don't even know her surname."

"No."

"I'll probably never see her again."

That sentence landed heavier than he expected. His wolf stirred immediately and the reaction was so fierce it stole his breath. His coffee mug creaked slightly beneath his tightening grip. Evelyn noticed.

"So your wolf disagrees."

Jake looked away.

"He doesn't like that idea."

"No."

Neither of them spoke for several seconds.

Finally Evelyn asked, "Did you tell her what you are?"

Jake looked horrified.

"Of course not."

"Good."

"I barely told her my name."

"What did she tell you?"

"Her first name."

"Anything else?"

"She works in the city."

"Did she mention family?"

"No."

"Friends?"

"One."

Jake smiled faintly.

"She said she'd probably tell her friend about tonight."

"You remember every word."

"I suppose I do."

Evelyn stood and walked towards the window where moonlight silvered the lawn beyond.

"When your father met me," she said quietly, "he described something very similar."

Jake looked up sharply.

"He never told me that."

"He wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because he thought you'd think he'd gone soft."

Jake laughed.

"Probably."

She smiled at the memory.

"He told me the world became strangely quiet."

Jake's smile faded.

"He said all the background noise disappeared until there was only me."

That sounded dangerously familiar.

"He also said," Evelyn continued, "that for the first time in his life, protecting someone stopped feeling like a duty."

She turned back towards him.

"It felt like breathing."

Jake sat perfectly still. Because that was exactly how it had felt. He hadn't chosen to protect Amelia, he simply... had. The instinct had been as automatic as drawing breath.

"I don't understand," he admitted.

"I know."

"What if I'm imagining it?"

"You aren't."

"What if it's something else?"

"It could be."

She smiled gently.

"But your father asked me the very same questions."

Jake rubbed both hands over his face.

"This is impossible."

"It is inconvenient."

"I don't know where she lives."

"You know where you met her."

"I'm hardly going to wait in that pub every Friday night."

His mother raised one eyebrow.

"You've already considered it."

Jake opened his mouth, then closed it again. Apparently he had. Evelyn laughed softly.

"I thought so."

Jake groaned.

"This is unbelievable."

"It usually is."

She reached across the island and squeezed his hand.

"You don't have to decide anything tonight."

"I'm not even sure there is anything to decide."

"There isn't."

"So what do I do?"

"For now?" She smiled. "You get some sleep."

"And if I dream about her?"

"You probably will."

Jake stood but paused at the kitchen door.

"Mum?"

"Yes?"

"If this really is..."

He couldn't quite bring himself to say the word.

"Then she'll find her way back into your life."

Jake nodded slowly.

"I hope you're wrong."

Evelyn waited until he had disappeared upstairs before allowing the smile to leave her face. She looked towards the dark garden beyond the window, her thoughts suddenly far from peaceful. Human mates were rare. Wonderfully rare. But nothing about Jake's description sat comfortably with the instincts she had learned to trust over decades.

He had spoken of certainty, recognition and peace. Yet he had also described something else. The fear in the young woman's eyes before she realised he meant her no harm. Evelyn had lived long enough to know that fate could bring two souls together.

But it did not always guarantee the journey between them would be easy.