Chapter 42

Charles

Grace's delighted squeal reached my ears moments after I heard the door open. The scent of another werewolf, a man, drifted into the room. I looked at Eason as I heard the man’s laughter ring out.

"Jackson!" Grace exclaimed, her laughter mingling with the excitement in her voice.

Eason’s eyes widened. He set his laptop aside and jumped up. I followed and was greeted by the sight of her with her arms wrapped around the man tightly. Her legs were wrapped around him as he kicked the door closed and spun her around.

Her expression was bright with joy. I took the man in. He was around her age, with a warm smile on his face and a blissful look on his face. There was something about the scent he was giving off, the way he held her, something that made it feel as though they were more than just friends.

As they slowed to a stop, Grace slid down to the ground. Grace's eyes sparkled with genuine happiness.

"I can't believe you're here! I've missed you so much."

Jackson's smile softened a hint of warmth in his eyes. "I missed you too, Grace. It's been way too long."

My curiosity deepened as I listened to their conversation, piecing together the bits of information that were exchanged. It became clear that Jackson was more than just a friend – he held a significant place in Grace's life, but he hadn’t been expected.

"So, what brings you here?" Grace asked with a playful curiosity in her tone.

Jackson chuckled a hint of mischief in his expression. "Oh, you know, I just wanted to drop by and see how my favorite science queen is doing."

Grace playfully swatted his arm, the familiarity between them evident. "You always know how to make an entrance."

I watched as Jackson's gaze softened, his eyes fixed on Grace as if she were the center of his world. I clenched my fists as I felt myself growing tense and defensive—jealous.

"Well," Jackson began, his tone shifting slightly, "I was wondering if I'm still welcome to crash at your place."

Grace's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Are you kidding? Of course, you're welcome. You've always been welcome."

The relief in Jackson's expression was evident, but there was something else in his eyes, in his movements. It seemed there was more to his visit than a simple social call. He had a motive, but what that was, I didn’t know.

Had Devin known about this man?

Grace's excitement bubbled over as she started making plans. "We'll get you settled in. Your old room is still just the way it was."

Old room?

I narrowed my eyes at that, taking in Jackson and Grace’s interaction with every instinct I had. As Grace and Jackson continued to catch up, I found myself growing more and more on edge.

Eason approached. “Long time no see.”

“Eason?” Jackson asked, his voice a little stilted as he thrust out his hand. “Good to see you!”

Eason shook his hand briefly. The unease that had been steadily growing bloomed. Jackson had something against Eason, some hesitation that meant that he wasn’t nearly as cemented in Grace’s life as I first thought.

Grace wasn’t the type to allow anyone who had a problem with her family to remain involved in her life. I stepped back, keeping my footsteps silent, barely disturbing the air before Jackson or Grace noticed that I had seen the greeting. Eason flinched and went still. I felt him reacting to me as he edged out of the way, giving me a clear path to Jackson.

Interesting. Perhaps Eason was more in touch with his lycan instincts than I had first thought.

“Oh, Jackson, this is Charles!” Grace said, introducing him proudly. “We’ve known each other for forever.”

I extended my hand. “A pleasure.”

He shook my hand with a polite smile, but there was something in his eyes – a subtle glint of a challenge. He had more than a friendly interest in Grace, but that wasn’t the source of my unease. Still, the realization sent a wave of tension through me, one that I struggled to suppress.

I didn’t pay attention to what Jackson was saying to Grace, but I watched. As the conversation continued, my instincts bristled, my senses heightened by the undercurrents I perceived. Grace, seemingly oblivious to Jackson's potential intentions, carried on with her usual warmth and openness. But I found myself retreating mentally.

“You should head into the living room. It’s about time for dinner, hm?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, I totally forgot—“

“Don’t worry about it.” I smiled thinly. “I promise as tiny foodie something special.”

Her gaze softened. “Okay… Thanks, Charles.”

I nodded, turned, and made my way to the kitchen, the faint hum of unease lingering beneath my skin. It was a feeling that I couldn't quite shake off, a sense of protectiveness that had been awakened and wouldn’t rest.

I didn’t want to leave them alone together, but I knew I had to.

In the kitchen, I focused on the task at hand, my movements deliberate as I began to gather ingredients and utensils. The clatter of pots and pans provided a temporary distraction from the emotions swirling within me. But try as I might, I couldn't ignore the turmoil – the unease that seemed to intensify with every passing moment.

As I worked, I grappled with the conflicting emotions that battled within me. I wanted Grace. I wanted her more by the day. Jackson’s arrival and interest were going to irritate me beyond belief. I knew it. The surge of possessiveness, a primal urge to protect what I had come to care for, was going to drive me to do something Grace may never forgive if I wasn’t careful.

With each chop of the knife, I attempted to regain my composure. If I was imagining his fingers under my knife, the scent of his blood, and the sound of his pained howls for touching what he wasn’t worthy to touch, that was no one else’s business.

It was better than actually doing it, at least.

I took another breath and tossed the vegetables in the skillet. The instinctual response to Jackson wasn’t something that was going to go away anytime soon. I could still see her in his arms as I started chopping more vegetable. I could hear them laughing with Eason from the living room. The unease that had taken root in my gut was difficult to ignore. My hands started shaking. My skin rippled with power and the beginnings of the shift. I set the knife down and took another deep breath.

I had to be logical.

If I let my instincts take over, it would be a blood bath.

Who was he? More importantly, who was Jackson to Grace? My mind raced, imagining scenarios where Jackson was more than just an old friend – a former lover who had returned to stake his claim now that it was known that she was divorced, vulnerable, and maybe in need. The idea gnawed at me, fueled by a possessiveness I hadn't fully comprehended until now. It was a struggle to reconcile the logical understanding that Grace was entitled to her own history and relationships with the irrational fear that something more might be unfolding before my eyes.

My hands started shaking as I thought about it, pushing the impulse to confront Grace about Jackson's presence down. There was something off about Jackson – a subtle shift in his demeanor that set me on edge. Could it be that my heightened senses were picking up on something that my mind was struggling to comprehend? Or was I just being irrational?

“Need a hand?” I looked over at Eason as he entered the kitchen with a playful grin. "Or, a deep dark hole to hide a body?”

I forced a smile, though my thoughts were far from lighthearted. "Just preparing dinner."

Eason's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Ah, yes. Dinner, the classic refuge for those recovering from stealth mode..."

The lighthearted comment grated, but I couldn’t muster up anger against him.

“Stealth mode?”

He nodded and leaned against the counter. “I’ve seen a lycan do that before. Last time, it was right before a bar fight. What’s up?”

I shook my head. “I’ll deal with it. Though, if you could pull out the tray of meat, that would be helpful.”

I went back to chopping as Eason went behind me. I turned on the water to boil and kept breathing. Cooking had been a way to relax, calm, and force my strength to manageable levels.

“You’re jealous for no reason,” Eason said, setting the tray on the counter beside me.

I went still and looked at him. He smiled. His eyes were filled with light, and his tone was more serious now.

I hesitated and set my jaw. “Am I?”

“Grace has a very small circle of people she likes,” Eason said. “Very few people still left in her life since marrying that jackass. The koala greeting is just a part of who she is when her favorite people are around.”

He grinned. “I suspect you’re well on your way to a similar greeting already.”

My lips twitched. “Your brotherly opinion?”

“Expert brotherly opinion, future brother-in-law.”

I shook his head. “I wondered if Jackson had an issue with you or if you had an issue with him.”

“I don’t let Grace choose her friends based on my issues with them,” he paused. “Or their issues with me.”

He shrugged. “Jackson is a childhood friend of hers, and despite his every effort, she's never looked at him with anything other than platonic affection."

His reassurance should have eased my concerns, but the nagging unease remained. I could hear Grace's laughter in the living room, the easy conversation she shared with Jackson. It was a stark reminder of the connection they had, a connection that I was still struggling to fully understand.

“Do you enjoy that fact?”

His grin turned vicious. “It’s better than sex sometimes.”

I laughed. “I definitely need to find you a boyfriend.”