Chapter10
1123 Words
The rain started just after noon.
It rolled in slow and steady, turning the sky from pale gray to heavy slate. The first drops tapped softly against the roof — then built into a steady drumming that wrapped the cabin in sound.
Linda stood at the window with a sandwich in her hand.
“Well,” she said. “Guess the forest is closed for business.”
Mira carried plates to the table. “It’ll pass.”
“Or flood us,” Talia added cheerfully.
Evan shot her a look. “It won’t flood.”
Linda took another bite. “I vote we stay inside.”
“You always vote inside,” Talia teased.
“I almost died twice this week,” Linda replied calmly. “I’m allowed.”
Mira snorted.
The bond pulsed faintly — steady and distant. Nick was nearby. He’d stayed closer since the fall.
Linda pretended not to notice.
They cleared lunch quickly, rain now pounding against the windows hard enough to blur the trees into dark shapes.
Talia clapped her hands once. “Cards.”
“Yes,” Linda said immediately. “Something competitive.”
Evan raised a brow. “You sure?”
“No wolf reflexes,” she warned again.
“Still setting rules,” Talia muttered.
Mira grabbed a deck from the shelf near the fireplace. “Poker?”
Linda’s grin sharpened. “Oh absolutely.”
They gathered around the table.
Rain filled the silence between shuffles.
The fire crackled low and warm.
Linda leaned back in her chair, studying her hand — but this time without the exaggerated cluelessness.
Talia narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know how to play, do you?”
Linda looked up slowly.
“I know enough.”
Evan blinked. “Since when?”
“Since I stopped losing money to coworkers in college,” she replied lightly.
Mira laughed. “Oh no.”
The first round was casual.
Small bets.
Testing.
Linda folded once.
Raised once.
Won a modest pot on a clean pair.
Talia squinted. “You were pretending earlier.”
“I enjoy underestimation,” Linda said sweetly.
Evan leaned back. “I knew it.”
Rain thundered harder.
The cabin felt smaller.
Warmer.
Closer.
Halfway through the next round, Talia leaned back and smirked.
“You know,” she said casually, “if this were strip poker, things would get interesting.”
Linda didn’t blink.
“Oh honey,” she said smoothly, “if this were strip poker, I’d win.”
Evan nearly choked.
Mira covered her mouth, laughing.
The front door creaked.
All four heads turned.
Nick stood just inside the doorway.
Rain slicked his shoulders, darkening his shirt. His hair was damp, pulled loose from whatever tie he’d used earlier.
He hadn’t knocked.
Linda arched a brow. “You’re early for strip poker.”
Silence.
Then Talia burst into laughter.
Nick’s eyes narrowed slightly. “For what?”
“Nothing,” Mira said quickly, still grinning.
Evan stood halfway. “Everything good?”
Nick stepped further inside, shutting the door behind him.
“Storm pushed wildlife down the slope,” he said. “Stay inside until it passes.”
Linda leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.
“That was already the plan.”
His gaze moved to the table.
Cards. Coins. Firelight.
Domestic.
Safe.
He didn’t look like he belonged there.
But he didn’t leave.
Talia slid a chair back with her foot. “You play?”
Nick hesitated.
The bond tugged — stronger in close quarters.
Linda felt it too.
Heat low in her chest.
She met his gaze.
“It’s just poker,” she said lightly. “No supernatural speed.”
His mouth twitched faintly.
“Fine.”
He sat.
The air shifted instantly.
Not dangerous.
Charged.
Mira dealt him in.
Rain pounded harder.
Nick played the way he moved — steady, observant, economical.
He didn’t rush.
He didn’t overbet.
He watched.
Especially her.
Linda caught him tracking her hands more than her cards.
“You’re staring,” she said without looking up.
“I’m observing.”
“Creepy.”
Talia grinned. “She’s right.”
Nick ignored them.
Two rounds later, Linda lost to him by one card.
Barely.
She studied the table.
Then leaned back slowly.
“Well,” she said. “That feels underwhelming.”
Nick raised a brow.
She stood.
The movement drew every eye in the room.
“If we’re escalating,” she said casually, “we should commit.”
Nick went very still.
Linda reached up and pulled her sweater over her head.
Underneath, a fitted t-shirt.
Nothing scandalous.
Nothing accidental.
She folded the sweater neatly beside her stack of coins.
“There,” she said lightly. “Now it’s interesting.”
Rain drummed.
Fire popped.
Nick’s gaze dropped before he caught himself.
Then snapped back to her face.
The bond flared — hot, sharp, immediate.
They played another hand.
Nick won again.
By one card.
Talia grinned slowly. “That’s two.”
Linda exhaled and pushed her chair back again.
“Well,” she said.
Her fingers hooked at the hem of her shirt.
The table went silent.
Evan sat up straighter.
Talia’s eyes widened.
Mira said her name — calm, steady.
“Linda.”
Linda paused.
Met Mira’s eyes.
Then looked back at Nick.
He hadn’t looked away.
His gaze was darker now.
Charged.
Controlled.
Her lips curved — small. Knowing.
Then she let go of her shirt.
Instead, she bent and slipped off her shoes.
“One article at a time,” she said lightly. “I like suspense.”
Talia exhaled hard.
Evan muttered something about liability.
Nick leaned back slowly.
But the muscle in his jaw ticked once.
The bond burned warmer.
Not because of skin.
Because she could have pushed further—
And chose not to.
They played one more hand.
Nick won.
Calm.
Measured.
He didn’t gloat.
Linda narrowed her eyes at him.
“Suspense works both ways,” he said quietly.
The air tightened again.
Then Evan threw his cards down dramatically.
“That’s it. I’m starving. We’re done before someone escalates to actual chaos.”
Laughter broke the tension.
Mira stood. “Dinner it is.”
No one told Nick to leave.
No one asked.
For a moment, he remained seated.
Then he stood too.
“You staying?” Talia asked casually.
A beat.
“Yes.”
Simple.
Final.
Rain still battered the roof.
The storm showed no sign of easing.
Linda didn’t comment.
But she felt it.
He wasn’t leaving.
And for the first time since the bond snapped—
He didn’t look like he was trying to run from it.
He just stayed.
While the storm raged outside.
And something steadier began building inside.
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