back to his human form by the time I woke up. But the empty space on the couch beside me was still warm, even though I felt strangely cold without him next to me, and I knew that he'd just shifted not too long ago.

He was still a little wary ever since the day he'd almost attacked me and I knew that he was set on keeping his distance, regardless of what I'd said afterwards. It wasn't so much that he was scared of me – it was the other way round, like he was terrified that he'd actually hurt me. But my nightmares still came and I still slept on the couch. And I still found him curling up next to me every night, falling asleep to the sound of his steady, even breaths.

He was nowhere to be found now. Reluctantly, I headed upstairs to freshen up, before going back down to the kitchen. Jed was already there, in the midst of making coffee, but stopped when I entered.

It was fleeting, but I didn't miss the way he scanned the smooth expanse of my legs that were barely covered by my denim shorts. His eyes were so intense and dark that they seemed to trail a sentient heat wherever he glanced, and I couldn't stop the flutter in my chest, especially when he finally swallowed and looked away.

It seemed to have gradually occurred to him that I was aware of his staring, and his cheeks were stained with a faint blush as he busied himself with the coffee. I went round the counter and leaned against the opposite side of it, taking the cup from him when he slid it across the table-top.

"What do you want for breakfast today?" I asked, picking up the mug and nursing it between my hands as I smiled up at him. "Sandwiches? French toast?" When he shrugged, I simply took a sip of my coffee before continuing, "We can make waffles. Do you have a waffle iron?" He shot me a strange look and I laughed. "Let's check. Come on."

Setting my mug down on the counter, I stepped further into the kitchen. Jed sidled up to me when I leaned against the table to open the cupboards. He shot me a glance when he noticed that I was having trouble reaching the upper shelves. I looked at him and smiled, easing back and letting him reach for the bowls inside, pulling out a blender and a baking bowl along the way.

"See it anywhere? It's either circular or rectangular, with a handle to tip open the lid – " I tipped back on my heels, shifting away slightly when he set down another empty bowl. He reached up again, and I couldn't help but let my eyes linger when his jacket rode up. His jeans were hanging low on his hips, and my eyes lazily traced the curve of his hipbone and the tanned ridges of muscles across his abdomen.

Because, you know, I figured that if he could stare at me, I didn't think he'd mind if I did the same.

But I stopped when I suddenly noticed a faint scar, curving in a painful slit just above the hemline of his jeans and dragging upwards. It was a faded white and looked plenty like Bianca's, in the sense that it was a scar which would never fade, regardless of how much time had passed. But as far as I was aware of, Jed hadn't suffered any recent injuries.

Unless –

"How'd you get that?" I blurted.

He looked mildly alarmed by my sudden question, eyes darting in confusion between the waffle iron and me.

"No, not that," I pointed to the place now hidden beneath his jacket. "There's a scar there, and it's not faded."

Confusion cleared from his expression. He lifted the hem of his jacket, and his eyes darted to me for affirmation.

"Yes, that." I stared at the stark contrast between his tanned skin and white scar. "Was it silver?" I looked back up at him, only to see that he was already watching me. When he hesitated, I knew the answer. "It was my knife?"

He slowly nodded.

"Really?" I'd suspected it, but his confirmation still came as a surprise. "But my knife's not silver. My grandmother gave it to me and it was – oh." Realisation dawned on me. "There's silver along the handle."

He nodded.

"I had no idea." My hand was still poised barely an inch away from him, and I acted on impulse this time, reaching my fingers out and letting them hover just a hairsbreadth away from his skin. "I'm sorry if I hurt you that night, but you don't have to be afraid of me."

He didn't move, but when I looked up, I noticed the way his gaze was fixed steadily on my hand, the way he seemed relaxed and tensed all at once.

"Don't be scared," I whispered, watching the way his eyes dipped down to my lips minutely as I spoke, before he looked back up at me again. "It's just me."

Slowly, he nodded.

Taking a deep breath, I closed the remaining distance and allowed my fingers to skim across his scar. Just a feather-light touch, and I could barely feel anything beneath the pad of my fingers. I noticed his muscles tense under my touch – whether out of fear or desire I couldn't quite decipher – but I was definitely on the latter strand, feeling the warmth of his skin seep into mine when I pressed more firmly against him, letting my thumb trace the curve of his scar and letting my fingers spread across the smooth expanse of his skin until my palm was flat against his abdomen.

When I looked up, his eyes were an indistinguishable shade of the darkest green, and the muscles along his neck and shoulder were corded, tense, his arms gripping the counter behind me tightly. But the expression on his face wasn't one of fear but of restraint, in a way that made me shiver and my heart race.

His gaze met mine and I smiled, gently letting my hand drop away form him and easing back against the counter so that he was effectively caging me in, arms on either side of me and the warmth of his body like a sweet addiction on my skin. We were so close that I could see the freckles dotting his nose and the curve of his lips when he let out a faint, stuttered breath. His eyes seemed to trace every contour and every feature of my face for a good few seconds, lingering for a moment longer than was necessary on my lips.

And then he was pulling away to lean against the dinner table, keeping a safe distance between us. I studied him for a moment. In the back of my mind, I realised that this was the way it had become between us. We were taking small steps and he was slowly but surely, letting me in.

And I thought it didn't matter, because we had all the time in the world.

Reaching for the waffle iron behind me, I held it out to him and watched as confusion once again seeped into his features. He looked so flustered that I wanted to laugh, but I bit it back and smiled warmly instead. "Waffles, remember?"

He took it hesitantly and I tied my hair back, pushing the sleeves of my dress shirt up my elbows and stepping over to the fridge to get the ingredients. When I glanced back, he was still studying the waffle iron in fascination, his long fingers reaching around the lid to prop it open.

He noticed me my gaze on him and looked up, eyes latching uncertainly on mine. I just smiled. It took him longer than I expected, but it was entirely worth the wait when his lips tilted up at the corners in smile that made my heart race.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

My day at work went well, with Jed in our usual booth poring over endless documents. I'd catch glimpses of him whenever I stepped out of the kitchen and he seemed content to be left alone.

He was already waiting for me at the end of my shift, a file in his hand as he leaned against the counter. Spike and Adrian were with him and he was listening to them chatter away, but his mind seemed elsewhere until he noticed me, and then his gaze seemed to soften as he pushed himself off the counter.

"So what's on the agenda tonight?" Adrian perked up when he saw me step towards Jed. "Movie and popcorn? Walking the dog?" He smirked when Jed threw a frosty look his way.

"Oh, I think that's for Jed and I to know," I returned blithely, casting a swift wink at Jed and grinning he promptly bit his lip and looked away, before looking back at Adrian, "and for you to never find out."

"Touché," Adrian's grin widened and he leaned back, bracing his arms on the top of the counter. "I really need to get one of those mate-things soon. Find out what I'm missing."

"Whoever your mate is, they're definitely not missing out on not meeting you, that's for sure," Spike commented dryly and I couldn't help but laugh. Jed looked amused as he watched Adrian elbow Spike roughly.

"Beta," Adrian reminded, proudly pointing his thumb at himself.

"Don't care," Spike shrugged and saluted us. "Alpha, Luna. Have a good night."

I waved goodbye over my shoulder as I followed Jed out. "See you tomorrow, boys."

The night breeze was a cool comfort when we opened the door to the diner. It was marginally colder than I was comfortable, but not enough for me to start shivering, even though Jed easily pulled off his jacket and handed it to me. I slipped it on without hesitation, the fabric a soothing comfort against my skin.

"Lorraine tells me that Bianca left this morning," I told him as we headed home.

Jed glanced at me, then shrugged, as if he couldn't care less.

"Well, you and the others might think she's trouble, but I think she's one of the strongest people I know, okay?" I stifled a sigh and pulled the strap of my bag further up my shoulder. "I just wish she'd said goodbye before leaving. She told me she would."

His gaze softened and I smiled at him.

"I just have this thing – I like it when people say goodbye because it feels like proper closure," I added, in an attempt to explain myself better to him. "Too many people have come and gone without saying goodbye. And it just leaves this hollow feeling when they're gone for good, you know?"

His eyes seemed to have darkened at my words, but when I paused and waited for his reaction, he simply nodded, even if his response seemed a little delayed.

"So my grandmother, she was one of the few people I had proper closure with. I was – oh, sorry!" He froze when the back of my hand accidentally grazed his, and I glanced up at him with an apologetic expression. "Yeah, sorry, that was my bad. I didn't mean to do that."

He shook his head. And it was slow, it was calculated, but his fingers slowly reached for my hand. I felt the warmth of his skin before I felt his fingers loop through mine, until the palms of our hands were resting against each other in the lightest friction.

His eyes were bright, the expression on his face relaxed. And he tugged at my hand in a gesture for me to keep walking.

"Okay." I smiled and easily fell into a new pace beside him. "Anyway, as I was saying – it really helped to get proper closure with my grandmother. So the doctors were telling me that she wasn't going to make it past the month, at most. I was devastated and everything, but it was like – I was making every last second count and I was slowly letting her go before she was already gone. I don't know if this makes sense to you?"

All the reply I got was a gentle brush of his thumb against the back of my hand.

My smile widened and I continued talking to him for the rest of our walk home, making sure to keep my voice low so that only he could hear. But in spite of the topic, he was the one who was the centre of my attention and I found myself acutely aware of the way his fingers were interlaced with mine, the way his jacket hung over my smaller frame and the way he didn't jump or freeze up whenever my shoulder would accidentally brush against his.

The walk back didn't take long at all, but it wasn't until we were a good distance away from the front porch that he stopped me, his hand instinctively tightening around mine. I felt him tense, and the sudden switch in his behaviour made alarm bells go off in my head.

I looked up at him. He seemed to be listening hard for something and I wisely kept my mouth shut, waiting for him to give some sort of signal. He did. Moments later, he tugged gently on my hand again and I followed him. We went around the house, stopping in front one of the side windows. I watched as he picked at two of the bolts on one window, before stealthily prying it open by removing the panel itself, and it made me realise that he'd probably done this many times before.

He climbed through the window, but stopped me when I started to follow him. Instead, he held up a hand for me to wait before vanishing inside. Once alone, I pulled the knife out from my bag and waited.

A distant crash set everything in motion and, suddenly, the noise from within was terrific. It was a series of scuffling and things shattering, and I couldn't help but crane my neck to catch a glimpse of Jed in the darkness. I heard another crash as a guy tumbled down the stairs, and he'd barely the time to recover before Jed was by his side in lightning speed, sending his fist ramming right into the gut of the other man.

My fingers tightened on the knife as I watched them fight. Three men rushed down the stairs and I drew back. Had Jed already mind-linked Adrian, or should I call for help?

I reached a hand into my bag, only to freeze when a someone wrapped their hand in a vice-like grip around my throat. The man's voice was distorted, sinister when he put his lips next to my ear and whispered, "Scream."

I didn't even think. I was ramming my knife right into his body the very next second, and feeling metal slice through flesh.

"You bitch," The man hissed, his fingers releasing me momentarily.

I didn't miss my chance. I rammed my elbow into his chest and pulled the knife out of him simultaneously, just in time to catch Jed glance our way. The death in his eyes was unmistakable and, in a swift move, he was ducking past the three men fighting him and rushing across the hall to get to me.

I needed to buy some time. Turning to face the man, I held the knife up. "You want to retract that statement?"

He smirked and reached for me. Quick as thought, I slashed the knife upwards. But he was undeterred and I braced myself as he started to ram me against the wall.

The impact didn't happen. There was a flash of black fur, a flicker of fear in the man's eyes. And then Jed's werewolf form was pouncing on the man, his jaws snapping open to lock tightly around the man's neck.

For a second, it was just like that night I'd first met him – when he tore another wolf's throat right out.

It was the same for this man. There wasn't a sliver of a chance against Jed and I quickly dragged my eyes away when I saw Jed's sharp teeth tighten around the man's neck. I heard a wretched yell and the sick crunching of bones beneath teeth. The man was dead, Jed had killed him and I was standing barely three feet away.

But there wasn't time to recover. The sound of growls made me turn, only to see three wolves approaching us. Jed stood in front of me—he was larger than they were, but his stance was on the defensive.

They were all focused on each other, but when I fell another step back, the gravel crunched beneath my shoes and I cringed. Instantly, the three wolves looked at me and I chanced a glance at Jed, seeing that his attention was not on me, but was solely focused on the weakest of the three.

I looked back at them. "How did you get through Titan borders?" I asked, forcing my voice to sound steady in spite of the way my heart was pounding erratically in my chest. It was a pointless question, but I wasn't expecting an answer anyway. I flipped the knife in my hand, tracing my thumb across the streak of silver across the handle and noticing the way their eyes all instinctively latched onto the silver. "Leave, and he's not going to hurt you – "

I'd barely finished my sentence when Jed found that sliver of opportunity and surged forward. He lunged right at the weak-link and sank his teeth into the wolf's back, before pulling back, only to dive right for the wolf's neck. There was a flurry of scuffles as the two other wolves leapt into the foray.

I wasn't even thinking when I instinctively reached for the wolf who had almost sunk its teeth into Jed's back. I drove a quick stab with my knife, sharp enough to sting as a deterrent, but the wolf spun round, teeth snapping at my hand and I flinched back just in time before he could chew a chunk of flesh off my arm.

In a flash, he pounced on me. His teeth were inches away from my face and I tried to fend off his attack. A blur of black, and Jed's werewolf form rammed right at him. I blinked, dazed, and looked around. The wolf that Jed had first attacked lay in a pool of blood on the floor—no doubt it was dead. One of the wolves managed to escape into the dark. But the one that Jed fought had no chance of getting away. I winced at a sickening crunch, and fresh blood filled the air.

Jed turned to look at me and I swallowed, feeling myself shiver and my head spin with terror and adrenaline. "Well," my voice was unsteady and I tried to keep my eyes only on him, and not on the dead bodies strewn on the floor. "That was really violent."

Jed lowered his head, even though he kept his eyes on me as if to gauge my reaction. I dropped my knife and he took a small step towards me. But it wasn't until I held out a hand that he finally lifted his head.

"It's okay. I'm not mad." I shook my head and waited, "come here."

Slowly, tentatively, he took several steps closer until the spaces between us had diminished. His eyes were bright as he watched me place my fingers gently on his head, feeling his sleek black fur sift between my fingertips.

"It's okay," I repeated quietly, my lips tilting up in a fleeting smile when he instinctively craned his neck, seemingly arching into my touch when I attempted to draw back. So I didn't break the contact and kept my hand firmly on him, gently stroking the smooth fur beneath my fingertips. "You kept me safe. And that means a lot to me."