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Chapter One

One Year Ago

“Theo,” Fee whispered. “Theo, wake up. I have to stitch your face.” She nudged his shoulder and he winced in pain.

“Leave it,” he rasped. “It’ll heal eventually.”

Phoebe frowned. “It’s bleeding a lot. I really think we should⁠—”

“Leave it,” he growled, his eyes still closed. The blood had trickled into his hair, stiffening his curls. He needed to be cleaned up, but he’d collapsed into Phoebe’s bed after they ran from the pack lands, and she hadn’t been able to move him.

At some point in the night, he’d shifted back into his human form, making the gash on his face look even worse. Rafe’s claws had slashed him from temple to chin. It was the moment Phoebe thought he was dead, lost to her forever. She hadn’t known she’d whimpered until Rafe’s gaze had met hers.

He’d stared at her with those unnerving, silver eyes that the two older brothers shared, and Phoebe had felt every beat of her heart loud in her ears. She couldn’t believe it when Rafe had backed down. It’d shocked her even more when he’d shifted into his human form and ended the whole damn fight.

He’d saved Theo’s life.

And hers.

Now, in the dim light of her room, her gaze scanned Theo’s bare torso. He was covered in bruises and gashes. It looked painful to breathe, to move, and still, when Phoebe looked at him, she couldn’t help but feel a foolish sort of hope blooming in her chest.

Theo had left his pack. Surely, he couldn’t go back after this. His father would no longer be a threat to them. Maybe instead of having pieces of Theo, she could now have all of him.

For years, her werewolf had insisted that they couldn’t be together. Because of his father. Because it was too dangerous. Because his pack would never allow it.

Which suited Phoebe just fine. She could pretend she was just like any other dryad, spending her time with Theo, the Alpha’s youngest son, but never getting attached. Not really.

She’d rather live in the in-between space he’d carved out for them. In between dusk and dawn. In between her home and his. In between friends and lovers. It was safe here in the in-between. She couldn’t get hurt here and neither could Theo.

Or so she had been telling herself for years.

But now he was in her bed, bloodied and bruised and the in-between didn’t seem like enough anymore. Suddenly Phoebe wanted more.

Theo groaned in pain next to her and she placed a cool palm on his forehead.

“Okay,” she muttered. “But this is my bed and you are bleeding all over it and I did save your ass, so…”

She didn’t expect him to be awake enough to hear her, but his bruised mouth tipped into a small smile. He reached for her hand, and she let him take it, twining their fingers together.

“Sorry, Fee. I’m a horrible patient.”

“True.”

“Just stay here with me.” He tugged her closer and she curled gently against his side not wanting to hurt him.

“Of course.” She whispered the words into his shoulder. He smelled like the forest after it rained, fresh and wild.

His breathing evened out and Phoebe assumed he’d fallen back asleep. Healing took a lot out of werewolves. But then he spoke again, his voice rough yet soft, like he was on the verge of losing it.

“I know I haven’t been the best to you,” he said.

“You’ve been a friend to me.”

He blew out a ragged sound, more scoff than laugh. “I want to be so much more than that to you, Fee.” He cleared his throat, but his voice didn’t come out any stronger when he spoke again. “I want to be everything to you. And now maybe I can.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. What could she say? You’re already everything to me. The thought terrified her enough as it was; saying it out loud would only make it worse.

“Maybe you can,” she agreed, not daring to voice her other thoughts. Not now. Not yet.