Updated Nov 7, 2025 • ~10 min read
The drive down the mountain the next morning was tense.
Magnus’s hands were tight on the wheel, his jaw set in that way that meant his bear was close to the surface. Briar sat beside him, trying to calm the anxiety churning in her stomach. The café was damaged. Someone had deliberately broken the window. And she’d been unreachable for days while it happened.
“Stop spiraling,” Magnus said without looking at her.
“I’m not spiraling.”
“I can feel you spiraling through the bond. Your anxiety is making my bear want to turn around and take you back to the cabin where you’re safe.”
Briar took a breath. “Sorry. I’m just worried about what we’re going to find.”
“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it.” His hand found hers, squeezing gently. “Remember—together.”
They pulled up to The Honey Pot to find Calla, Pete, and Rosie waiting outside. The front window had been boarded up with plywood, and there was still glass glittering on the sidewalk despite obvious attempts to clean it up.
“Oh God,” Briar breathed, climbing out of the truck.
“It looks worse than it is,” Pete said immediately, moving to intercept her. “The window’s the only real damage. Everything inside is fine.”
Briar moved closer, seeing the damage properly now. Someone had thrown a rock through the large front window—the beautiful vintage glass she’d loved since the first day. Shattered. Gone.
“Do we know who did it?” Magnus’s voice was dangerously quiet.
“Not definitively.” Calla’s expression was grim. “But we have suspicions. There’s been some… discontent among certain pack members. About Briar being human, running a business here, and now being claimed by you.”
“Discontent.” Magnus’s voice could have cut glass. “Someone vandalized my mate’s business and you’re calling it discontent?”
“I’m calling it what it is—idiots who are about to learn a very painful lesson about respecting pack law.” Calla’s eyes flashed gold. “I’ve been handling it, Magnus. Trust me.”
“What kind of lesson?” Briar asked, looking between them.
“The kind where I make it very clear that you’re under Alpha protection.” Calla’s smile was sharp. “And that anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me. And Derek. And Magnus. Simultaneously if they’re feeling brave.”
“How much is this going to cost to fix?” Briar was already mentally tallying her savings. The window wouldn’t be cheap, especially if she wanted to match the vintage style.
“Already taken care of,” Pete said. “New window’s on order. Should be here next week.”
“Pete, I can’t let you—”
“You’re not letting me anything. Pack takes care of its own.” He crossed his arms. “Besides, Magnus already threatened to pay for it, and I’m not getting into a pissing match with a territorial bear over who gets to fix your window.”
Briar looked at Magnus, who shrugged. “You’re my mate. Your problems are my problems. That includes broken windows.”
She wanted to argue—wanted to insist she could handle her own finances, that she didn’t need rescuing. But the truth was, this would have seriously strained her budget. And refusing help just to prove she was independent seemed foolish.
“Thank you,” she said instead. “Both of you.”
“There’s more,” Rosie said quietly. “You should check your voicemail. The business line.”
Briar’s stomach dropped. She pulled out her keys and unlocked the café, stepping over glass to reach the phone behind the counter. The message light was blinking frantically. She hit play, putting it on speaker.
The first message was from her flour supplier: “Ms. Locke, we’ve received some concerning complaints about your business. Until we can verify these claims, we’re suspending delivery service. Please contact us to discuss.”
The second was from her dairy distributor: “Hi Briar, we need to talk. There have been some issues raised about health code violations at your establishment. We’re required to pause service until this is resolved.”
The third, fourth, and fifth messages were similar—suppliers citing vague complaints, health code concerns, all suspending service pending investigation.
“What the hell?” Briar’s voice shook. “I don’t have health code violations. The inspector was here last month—I passed with flying colors.”
“Someone’s making false complaints,” Calla said, her voice tight with anger. “Trying to force you to close by cutting off your suppliers.”
“This is beyond vandalism.” Magnus was practically vibrating with rage. “This is targeted harassment.”
“It’s Thomas Garrett and his sons.” Calla’s voice was flat. “Has to be. They’re the only ones vocal enough about wanting humans out of Pine Haven. I just need proof.”
“Who’s Thomas Garrett?” Briar asked.
“Old-guard pack member. Bear shifter, like Magnus. He’s convinced that allowing humans into the pack territory will ‘dilute our strength’ or some nonsense.” Calla made air quotes, her contempt clear. “He’s been a thorn in my side since Derek and I took over as Alphas.”
“So what do we do?” Briar looked at her café—her dream, the thing she’d rebuilt her life around—and felt it slipping away. “I can’t run a café without suppliers.”
“You won’t have to.” Magnus moved to her side, his presence solid and grounding. “Calla’s going to handle Thomas. I’m going to contact every one of your suppliers personally and explain that the complaints are fraudulent. And we’re going to prove that your café is perfectly up to code.”
“I’ll call the health inspector,” Pete offered. “Get him to come do an emergency inspection, put everything in writing. That should shut down the false complaint angle.”
“And I’ll spread the word through the pack that anyone patronizing Garrett’s business will answer to me,” Calla added. “Two can play the economic warfare game.”
Briar felt overwhelmed by the sudden rush of support. “You don’t have to do all this—”
“Yes, we do.” Rosie squeezed her hand. “You’re pack now, Briar. This is what we do. We protect our own.”
“But I’m not—I mean, I’m human—”
“You’re Magnus’s mate. That makes you pack.” Calla’s voice was firm. “And more than that, you’re someone who came here trying to build something good. We’re not letting small-minded bigots destroy that.”
Briar felt tears sting her eyes. “Thank you. All of you.”
They spent the next hour making calls and plans. The health inspector agreed to come that afternoon. Magnus worked his way through her supplier list, his deep voice calm but authoritative as he explained the situation. Pete measured the window and made arrangements for the replacement.
By noon, things were starting to look more manageable. The suppliers were putting holds on the suspensions pending the health inspection. The window would be fixed within a week. And Calla was gathering evidence about the Garretts’ harassment.
“Okay,” Briar said, surveying her café. “I can work with this. I’ll have to close for a few days while we sort everything out, but—”
Her phone rang. Unknown number. She almost didn’t answer, but something made her pick up.
“Hello?”
“Is this Briar Locke?” A woman’s voice, professional and clipped.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“Janet Morrison from Mountain Valley Business Insurance. I’m calling about your policy. We’ve received notification of multiple incidents at your business location, including vandalism and health code violations. I need to inform you that we’re reviewing your policy for potential cancellation.”
Briar’s blood ran cold. “Cancellation? But I haven’t done anything wrong—”
“That’s not for me to determine. I’m just informing you that your policy is under review. You should receive formal notification within five business days.” A pause. “I’m sorry, Ms. Locke. I’m sure you understand this is just procedure.”
The call ended, and Briar stared at her phone in shock.
“What is it?” Magnus was beside her instantly.
“My insurance. They’re reviewing my policy. Might cancel it.” She looked up at him, feeling the walls closing in. “Magnus, I can’t run a business without insurance. The bank won’t even let me keep the building loan without proper coverage.”
“We’ll find another insurance company—”
“In a town this size? There’s only one carrier who covers commercial properties in Pine Haven.” Briar sat down hard on a stool, the reality crashing over her. “They’re not just trying to make things difficult. They’re trying to force me out completely.”
Magnus’s expression went thunderous. “That’s not going to happen.”
“How do you plan to stop it?” The words came out sharper than she intended. “Magnus, this is my livelihood. My entire life savings is tied up in this café. If my insurance gets cancelled, the bank calls the loan, and I lose everything. The business, the building, all of it.”
“Then we’ll fight the insurance cancellation. We’ll document everything, prove the complaints are false—”
“That takes time.” Briar felt panic rising in her throat. “Time I might not have. And what if they cancel anyway? What if the Garretts find another way to sabotage things? I can’t fight a war on multiple fronts, Magnus. I don’t have the resources.”
“Then use mine.” He took her hands. “Briar, I have money. Savings from years of living alone and working as a firefighter. Let me help.”
“I can’t take your money—”
“Why not? We’re mates. What’s mine is yours.” His voice was urgent. “Please. Let me help you save this.”
Briar wanted to accept. God, she wanted to. But the thought of being dependent on someone again, of owing her survival to a man—even Magnus—made her skin crawl.
“I need to think,” she said, pulling away. “I need—I need some air.”
She walked out before Magnus could respond, leaving the café and its complications behind. She made it half a block before the tears started, and then she was crying in earnest—for her café, for her independence, for the fear that she’d built something beautiful only to watch it be destroyed.
“Briar.” Magnus’s voice, gentle behind her.
“I told you I needed air.”
“You also told me we face things together.” He moved around to face her. “So let’s face this. Talk to me.”
“I’m scared.” The admission came out broken. “I’m scared that if I let you help financially, it’ll change things between us. That I’ll become dependent on you. That this—” she gestured between them, “—will turn into another trap.”
Magnus’s expression was pained. “You think I’d use money to control you?”
“No. Not intentionally. But Tyler started out helping too. Paying for things, ‘taking care of me.’ And slowly that turned into him controlling everything because I owed him.” Briar wiped her eyes. “I can’t go back to that, Magnus. I’d rather lose the café than lose myself again.”
Magnus was quiet for a long moment. Then, “What if we made it a loan? Official paperwork, interest, the whole thing. Business transaction, not charity. You’d pay me back once the café’s profitable again.”
“You’d do that?”
“I’d do anything to help you keep what’s yours.” His voice was firm. “But more than that, I’d do anything to make sure you feel safe and independent. If a formal loan is what you need to accept help, then that’s what we’ll do.”
Briar searched his face, looking for any sign of manipulation or hidden agenda. But all she saw was sincerity. Love. And a desperate desire to help without taking away her agency.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “A loan. With paperwork. And interest.”
“Whatever terms you want.” Magnus pulled her into his arms. “We’ll get through this, Briar. I promise.”
She wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust that this time would be different, that accepting help wouldn’t mean losing herself.
But as she stood on the street with her café behind her and an uncertain future ahead, Briar couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to get worse before it got better.
And she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to survive it.
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