Page 6 of Paws & Order

His gaze finds mine, and I catch a flash of a grin before it tugs at his lips.

"Evening, Miss Morales. I thought you would've headed home by now."

"I run on spite and free-range carbohydrates," I reply. "How's the holding cell?"

"I'm about to charge them with fourth-degree disturbing of the peace," he rumbles.

"Is that even a real charge?" Beatrix snaps, jabbing a finger at his chest.

"Only in goblin law," he says. "We swear by Hammurabi and the Girl Scout Manual."

I open my mouth to ask a follow-up question, then choose to smile instead.

"You hungry?" he asks quietly, just for me. "I would kill for a cinnamon roll."

"Try the leftover lemon curd at Hex & Honey," I say before thinking. "It's practically a controlled substance."

He hesitates, then nods, and for a second I expect him to offer to walk me over.

Instead, he just claps a big hand on my shoulder, gentle as a Labrador.

"We're wrapping up here. Go get some sleep, Morales."

His eyes flicker, almost serious.

I want to ask what's really on his mind, but the goblins are now rolling around on the floor, and Cassian's job description is clearly goblin wrangler first, confidant second.

I step back into the midnight chill, tasting that odd afterglow of almost but not quite.

Halfway home, the heel of my boot catches on a root, and I go sprawling across the sidewalk.

My clipboard tumbles. Loose keys scatter like confetti.

I lie there a moment, letting the pins and needles in my palms fade, staring up at the sky.

Tonight it's clear.

Blackthorn's stars are so bright they almost hurt.

I count satellites until my thoughts slow.

There's a restlessness in me, something ancient and frantic, as if standing still might snap me in two.

I wonder if you can miss someone who's never been yours.

Cassian is... Cassian.

Steady as the breakwater.

No sane person would build a future around a werewolf with a savior complex and a cinnamon-roll habit.

I've heard the rumors. I know what wolf-shifters are supposed to be like.

Doesn't stop me from wanting it.

I gather my things, dust myself off, and press on home.

Inside, I fling my keys on the table and collapse onto the couch.