Page 14 of Owl’s Cherished Mate

My heart kickstarted inside my chest.

“Someone is watching over you, child,” she said, her voice softer now. “Not from a distance, but from very close. Closer than you realize.” Her brown eyes locked with mine. “He sees you—not the name you carry or the past. Just you.”

My breath caught as Gray popped into my head.

Maribel gathered her cards with a satisfied smirk and tucked them back into the bag hidden beneath her shawl. She picked up her teacup and took a slow sip, watching me over the rim.

“That’s it?” I managed.

“That’s it.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. She was already standing, moving toward the back of the shop like she had somewhere to be.

“I know,” Eleanor said, giving me a warm, knowing smile from behind the counter. “She has that effect on people.”

I sat at the table for another minute, staring at the empty chair across from me. The Star. The Ten of Swords. The Two of Cups. The cards flickered through my head—hope, rock bottom, partnership—as I stood and walked back out onto Main Street.

She was wrong. She had to be. I didn’t have room for hope or partnership or any of the things those cards promised. I had Lawson and work and a last name that made people cross the street to put distance between us.

Even so, as I walked back to the Grill, all I could think about was Gray and how maybe this whole mess that was my life was about to get better sometime soon.

A girl could hope.

6

GRAY

My days off were simple.

Coffee from home, not Delilah’s—I didn’t need the gossip that came with her refills. A walk through town, sometimes down to the docks to watch the boats, sometimes along Main Street if I needed to pick something up. Then back to my apartment to read, restore a personal project, or sit outside and let my owl enjoy the open air without having to shift.

It was a good routine.

Today I’d walked to the hardware store for wood glue—a specific Japanese brand I ordered through them that worked better on antique bindings than anything else I’d tried. Broddie, the owner’s son, had it waiting behind the counter. We exchanged about twelve words total, which was the right amount for both of us, and I went on my way.

The afternoon was cool, but the sky was overcast in that heavy, gray way the coast got when a front was moving through. I tucked the small bag into my jacket pocket and headed up Main Street. The lunch crowd had thinned out, and the sidewalks were mostly empty. A few people moved between shops. Someone was sweeping the entrance to the Seagrass Salon. The usual.

I was passing the Driftwood Grill when I spotted her.

Bonnie was in the gravel lot beside the restaurant, heading toward a beat-up sedan that I assumed was hers. It must be the end of her shift. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and tension radiated off her.

Then I saw why.

Darren was standing between her and her car. His hands were in his pockets, and his posture loose and easy, like they were having a casual conversation. They weren’t. He was too close—the kind of close that wasn’t friendly. It was territorial.

His younger brother Cade leaned against a black sedan parked a few spaces away, watching the whole thing with that lazy detachment of his.

My owl snapped to attention.

I didn’t know them personally, but I knew who they were. Every shifter in Driftwood Cove did. Heck, every person did.

They were trouble.

Darren had been mixed up in the pill smuggling operation that ran out of the Tidal Caverns—the same operation that had put Bonnie’s dad behind bars. Somehow he’d walked away clean while her dad and the pharmacy tech took the fall. I’d never had a reason to pay attention to Darren beyond knowing to stay clear of him. He ran in different circles than I did, which wasn’t hard since my circles consisted of working at the library and the occasional trip to the grocery store.

But now he was three feet from Bonnie, and my owl was losing his mind.

Every instinct I had locked onto Darren with a focus that felt predatory. This was unusual for me or my owl. He was typically patient. Observant. He watched and calculated before acting. It was how I worked, too.