Page 112 of Trick Knot Treat

“What can I do to convince you to stay?”

Clint whips around, staring at him. I can’t see his expression, but I can smell the lighter, almost bounce in his scent.

“There’s nothing,” I whisper.

Jace snarls, the sound whips around us and steals Clint’s happiness.

“What if we went with you?”

I shake my head even faster to deny that option. “No.”

“I’m not going to give up on this. We are perfect together; nothing has been so right.”

I stare at him because he is correct. This has been seamless, easy, we fit like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

Everything in me wants to stay. I want a life here. I love this stupidly quaint little town that has the most ridiculous flocks of birds and pack-making events ever.

I love the people.

I want these alphas.

With a small sniff, I turn and run away. Spectre runs with me all the way to the water’s edge where I stop, bend over, gasping for air.

“I can’t do this,” I whisper. “This is mean, it’s cruel. I want to stay.”

“Then stay.”

I whip around, finding Zaire looking absolutely perfect. Like a handsome prince from one of those romance movies I grew up watching.

I swipe at my cheek. “I can’t.” The groan is pain that comes straight from my soul.

He comes to stand next to me, staring out at the ocean. It’s a bit rough tonight. His arm brushes mine.

“I promised I would go back. If there was a way I could break this promise, I would.”

He inhales and exhales. For one second, he looks more distraught than I’ve ever seen anyone look, and then he just slumps, exhausted, defeated, his hands hanging at his side.

“Zaire? Just like that?”

“Would you prefer me to get on my knees and wail?” he asks bitterly.

It takes everything in me to grin at him. “It would go a long way toward making me feel better.”

He pushes me, I stumble back and then launch myself into his arms. He catches me and swings me around and around.

“How about we enjoy the moments that we have, then. We can worry about tomorrow, tomorrow?” he whispers in my ear.

“I’d really like that,” I say with a lump in my throat.

“Walk with me?”

We walk along the beach, quietly at first, and then we fall into the usual soft banter. For almost a year, Zaire has been the only person who noticed me, who saw me. It will be hard to say goodbye to him. Impossible, really.

Zaire gets a message and looks at his phone. “Not sure if I should warn you or apologise in advance, but we have a date.”

“A date? Like Trick Knot Treat date?”

“No, like an us date.”