Chapter Text
The rain had been threatening for hours, but when it finally broke, it didn’t ease in gently—it crashed. Sheets of water hammered the windshield, the wipers useless against the blur. Luna leaned forward over the steering wheel, knuckles white, breath thin. She didn’t know where she was going—hadn’t known that for miles—but she kept driving anyway, as if momentum alone could outrun everything chasing her.
The van shuddered once. Twice.
“No, no, no—come on,” she whispered.
The engine gave a pitiful sputter… and died.
Luna coasted to the side of the narrow mountain road, heart pounding. For one suspended moment, she sat there in the dark, rain drumming hard enough to drown thought. Then something inside her cracked.
She shoved the door open and stepped out into the storm. Cold hit her like a slap. Water soaked through her sweater in seconds. She kicked the front tire—hard—then again, helpless anger fizzing out of her in short, sharp breaths. When that did nothing, she marched around to the hood, yanked it open, and stared into the mess of metal and wires through a sheen of tears.
“I don’t even know what I’m looking at,” she choked, wiping at her face, though the rain replaced the tears faster than she could blink them away.
A pair of headlights slowed behind her. Tires crunched over gravel. A door slammed.
Every muscle in her body tightened.
Great. A stranger. Alone. In the middle of whoknowswhere. Storm howling around them.
“Need some help, princess?” a man called.
She spun toward him, instinct already braced to run or lie or tell him she had a weapon.
He froze—just looking at her—and something in his expression shifted. The teasing dropped. His posture gentled. His eyes softened like he was approaching a skittish doe and not a soaked, furious woman on the side of the road.
Her distrust wavered.
He didn’t leer. He didn’t crowd her. He didn’t act like her fear was amusing. He just… steadied. Something in him settling, anchoring, like protecting her was suddenly the most obvious thing in the world.
He stepped closer, slowly, hands visible, movements careful. As if some instinct she didn’t understand told her he’d never hurt her.
And some instinct he didn’t understand told him he’d tear the throat out of anything that tried.
He glanced at the open hood, then at her again.
“What happened?” he asked, voice low, gentle.
“I was driving and then…” She let out a shaky breath. “It just died. And now it won’t start. Not even a little.”
He moved closer, close enough she could see the rain dripping from his jawline, close enough she felt the strange sense of safety settle deeper in her chest.
“Okay,” he murmured, already stepping between her and the road like a shield. “Let’s take a look. You’re freezing. Where are you headed?”
She laughed—sharp, brittle. “I… I don’t even know.”
The man nodded slowly, as though that told him everything he needed to know. Rain dripped from his hair onto his shoulders, but he didn’t seem bothered.
“Well,” he said gently, “I can take you to our Den. Get you warm, get you dry. We’ll figure out the van in the morning. Storm’s blowing up fast—you don’t want to stay out here.”
“Your Den?” Luna blinked, realization dawning. “You’re… oh. God. I didn’t mean to trespass.”
“You’re not trespassing.” He flashed a reassuring smile. “You’re a guest now. I’m Jarek, by the way.”
“Luna.”
Jarek hooked her van to his truck and drove her through the worsening storm. Minutes later, a large, timber-framed cottage came into view—warm light spilling from wide windows, smoke rising from the chimney.
“This is our Communal house,” he said as he parked. “Pack comes here to hang out, eat together, hold meetings. Our Alpha—Lupin—lives here too.”
Luna blinked. “Lupin? As in… wolf?”
The words spilled out before she could stop them. “That’s a bit on the nose.”
Jarek barked a laugh, loud and delighted.
“Oh, don’t let him hear you say that. Man’s got an ego the size of a barn already. But honestly?” He shrugged. “It fits him. He’s about as subtle as a big-ass wolf crashing through your front door.”
She snorted and Jarek shot her a pleased grin, like making her laugh was a small personal victory.
“Now,” he went on, “before you catch pneumonia out here, you got clothes to change into? Something dry? Something warm?”
Before she could reply, Jarek continued.
“If not,” he teased, “I keep a spare shirt in my van. Just for runaway princesses stranded in the rain.”
She huffed a soft laugh. “What luck. Too bad I actually brought my own.”
“Ah, so you’re a prepared princess. Dangerous combination.”
He led her inside, up the stairs, and down a long hallway to a clean spare bedroom. Luna stepped in, clutching her bag, and he lingered in the doorway.
“I’ll wait out here,” he said, leaning casually against the wall. “Take your time. And don’t worry—I’ll keep the hallway safe from any passing monsters. Or rogue laundry baskets. Those are the real menace.”
She smiled—small, tired, but real. Jarek’s shoulders loosened like he’d been holding something tight in his chest.
While she changed, he talked through the door, making sure she could hear him but not be overwhelmed.
“So this one time,” he began, “Greyson tried to fix Gina’s hair dryer. Spent thirty minutes bragging about his superior mechanical skills. Ended with the dryer shooting smoke and him running around screaming that he’d been cursed.”
A soft laugh drifted out of the room. Jarek grinned. Good.
By the time she opened the door again—wrapped in a thick sweater, damp hair curling around her face—some of the sadness he’d seen on the roadside had eased.
“Well,” he said with a flourish, “you survived the changing-room gauntlet. Now let’s get you something warm to eat.”
They headed downstairs together, Jarek guiding her toward the kitchen.
“Oh, I smell a human!” someone hollered from the entryway.
Luna jumped. Jarek sighed.
“Sorry. I’m the only one with manners around here,” he muttered as two wolves strode into the kitchen, their eyes sharp with curiosity.
“Guys, this is Luna,” Jarek said. “Her van broke down. She’s staying a few days. Luna, this is Gina and Grayson.”
“Nice to meet you,” she managed.
Gina eyed her thoughtfully. Grayson frowned. “Is the Alpha gonna be okay with this?”
“I’ll deal with him,” Jarek said, his tone so flat and final that both of them dropped it instantly.
Introductions softened into conversation, the tension easing into a comfortable sort of chaos.
Luna mentioned—quietly, almost offhand—that she made excellent waffles.
Gina’s head snapped up. “Waffles?”
Greyson straightened like someone had yanked a leash. “Hold on—homemade waffles? From scratch? With butter? Real butter? Not that tragic margarine abomination Jarek buys?”
“I buy what’s on sale,” Jarek muttered.
Luna blinked. “Um… yes? From scratch. My grandma taught me when I was little.”
Gina slapped her palms on the counter. “You’re cooking in the morning. That’s it. That’s the rule now.”
Greyson clasped his hands together in a dramatic plea. “Please. If you make waffles, I will literally do your laundry for a week. No—two weeks. Three. I’m not above groveling.”
Luna laughed and the pack froze for a second, startled by how much lighter it made her look.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I can make waffles.”
Greyson fist-pumped the air. “YES. Victory.”
Jarek rolled his eyes but didn’t hide the little smile tugging his mouth.
When they finally left the kitchen, Luna let out a shaky exhale and turned to Jarek at the base of the stairs.
“Are you sure,” she asked quietly, “you’re not going to get in trouble for letting me stay?”
Jarek snorted. “Trouble? For bringing home someone who can make waffles that brought Greyson to his knees? No way.”
Then, gentler: “He’ll grumble. He always does. But it’ll be fine. You’re safe here, princess.”
Luna wasn’t convinced. Her stomach twisted with the thought of an Alpha who certainly wouldn’t want a stray human girl taking up space under his roof.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked suddenly, glancing at Jarek’s bare arms. He wore only a tank top; she had her thickest sweater on.
“Nah,” he said. “We run warm.”
He extended his hand, palm up. An offering, not a demand.
She hesitated for half a heartbeat, then placed her fingers in his.
Heat rushed up her arm—immediate, startling, almost addictive.
“Oh—uh—” Luna blinked. “You’re so warm.” She almost leaned closer without meaning to.
Jarek’s mouth curved, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Do you want me to warm you up?”
It was flirtatious, yes, but the sincerity in his tone made it gentler than it should’ve been. Safe.
Her cheeks flushed. Her heartbeat stumbled.
Before she could insist she was fine—even though she absolutely wasn’t—Jarek continued, softer but still grinning:
“Listen. In this pack, we help each other. With anything. Your van breaks, we fix it. You need a place to stay, we give you that. You need me to warm you up, I’ll happily do it, princess.”
Luna immediately tugged at the sleeves of her sweater, flustered.
“Maybe… maybe a little hug?” she asked shyly.
Jarek brightened like she’d handed him a present. “Come here.”
He pulled her into his arms—not tight, not overwhelming, just… enveloping. Supportive. Safe.
And holy hell he was WARM. Soft where she expected hard, warm where she expected cold. Luna melted into him like snow under sunlight.
They stayed like that longer than either intended, her cheek against his chest, his chin resting lightly atop her head.
Eventually, he murmured, “I’ll take your van to my shop and have a look at it. Any valuables inside I should be careful about?”
Luna snorted. “Only my whole life.”
That made him pull back enough to look at her properly. Something protective flickered in his eyes before he brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek—careful, almost reverent—and guided her toward the living room.
“I’ll be right back. If anyone bothers you,” he said, dead serious and teasing at the same time, “punch them.”
Luna giggled. “Okay.”