Updated Nov 7, 2025 • ~9 min read
Briar woke at Calla’s house to seventeen missed calls from her bank.
She stared at her phone with a sense of dread, then called them back.
“Ms. Locke, thank you for returning my call.” The loan officer’s voice was professionally sympathetic. “I’m afraid we need to discuss your business loan. Given the recent insurance complications and the closure of your establishment, we need to reassess the terms of your mortgage.”
“Reassess how?” Briar’s stomach dropped.
“We’ll need proof of insurance reinstatement within thirty days, or we’ll have to consider the loan in default. Additionally, we’re requiring financial documentation showing you can maintain payments during the closure period.”
“Thirty days?” Briar’s voice rose. “The insurance company said their review could take six weeks—”
“I understand that’s difficult, but these are the terms of your loan agreement. I’m sorry, Ms. Locke. I’ll send the formal documentation today.”
After the call ended, Briar sat on Calla’s guest bed and felt the last of her composure crack. Thirty days. She had thirty days to get her insurance reinstated, prove she could make payments, or lose everything.
The café wasn’t just damaged. It was dying.
And she didn’t know how to save it.
She should call Magnus. Should tell him about the bank, accept his loan offer, let him help. But the thought of being that dependent on him, of owing him her survival—it made her chest tight with panic.
This is what Tyler wanted, a voice whispered in her head. For you to need him so badly you couldn’t leave.
Magnus isn’t Tyler, another voice argued.
But what if the result was the same anyway?
Briar got dressed mechanically and headed back to the café. She needed to think, to plan, to figure out her options without the bond clouding her judgment.
She was surprised to find Magnus’s truck already parked outside.
Her heart lifted, then immediately sank. They’d fought. Badly. And she’d said terrible things about leaving, about not knowing what was real.
She found him inside, reinforcing the board over the broken window. He didn’t acknowledge her entrance, just kept working with focused intensity.
“Hi,” Briar said softly.
“Morning.” His voice was flat, emotionless.
“Can we talk?”
“If you want.” Magnus set down his tools but didn’t look at her. “Though I figure you’ve already made your decision.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re leaving. Going back to Seattle.” He said it like fact, not question. “I can feel it through the bond. You’ve already started pulling away.”
“That’s not—I haven’t decided anything.” But even as she said it, Briar knew he could feel her uncertainty. The bond worked both ways. “The bank called. I have thirty days to prove I can keep the business running or they call the loan.”
“Take my money.” Magnus’s voice was still flat. “Problem solved.”
“It’s not that simple—”
“It is that simple. You just don’t want it to be.” Finally, he looked at her, and the pain in his eyes made her chest ache. “You’d rather lose everything than accept help from me. That’s what this is really about.”
“That’s not fair—”
“You want to know what’s not fair?” Magnus’s control started to crack. “I spent all night going over every moment between us, wondering what I did wrong. Wondering if I pushed too hard, claimed you too fast, made you feel trapped. And you know what I realized?”
Briar shook her head, tears already forming.
“It doesn’t matter what I do. You’re always going to have one foot out the door. Because you’re so terrified of becoming dependent that you’ll sabotage anything good in your life to maintain the illusion of independence.”
“That’s not true—”
“Isn’t it?” Magnus laughed bitterly. “You have people who want to help you. A pack that’s ready to fight for you. A mate who would give you anything you asked for. But you can’t accept any of it because accepting means admitting you need someone. And needing someone means they can hurt you.”
“You don’t understand—”
“I understand perfectly.” Magnus’s voice went cold. “I understand that I was an idiot to think you could get past your trauma long enough to actually build something with me. That this—” he gestured between them, “—was always temporary. A nice fantasy while you were snowed in, but not something that could survive reality.”
The words hit like physical blows. “You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I?” Magnus’s eyes were distant now, shuttered. “Maybe this is for the best. You need to figure yourself out without the bond complicating things. And I need to stop pretending I can be what you need.”
“Magnus, please—”
“Go to Seattle.” He picked up his tools. “Take some time. Figure out what you want. And if that ends up being a life without me in it, at least we’ll both know.”
“I don’t want a life without you!” The words burst out, desperate and raw.
“Then prove it.” Magnus met her eyes. “Stop looking for exits. Stop treating love like it’s a trap. Stop pushing me away every time things get hard.” His voice broke. “Because I can’t keep doing this. Can’t keep watching you plan your escape while I’m trying to build us a future.”
“I’m not planning an escape. I’m trying to save my business!”
“Your business that you’d rather lose than accept help with.” Magnus shook his head. “That’s not about the business, Briar. That’s about control. About not letting anyone—even me—have any power over your life.”
“Because the last time I let someone have power, he used it to destroy me!”
“I’m not him!” Magnus’s shout echoed through the café. “How many times do I have to prove that before you believe it? How many times do I have to choose you, support you, respect your boundaries before you trust that I’m not going to turn into Tyler?”
“I do trust you—”
“No, you don’t.” Magnus’s voice went quiet, defeated. “You trust that I’m not Tyler. But you don’t trust that we can work. That the bond isn’t a cage. That accepting help won’t make you weak.” He moved toward the door. “And until you do, we’re just going to keep having this same fight.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to the cabin.” He paused at the door. “I think we both need space. Time to figure out if this is actually what we want or if we just got caught up in the intensity of the bond.”
“Magnus, don’t do this—”
“I’m not doing anything, Briar. I’m giving you what you asked for. Space. Distance. A chance to make decisions without me clouding your judgment.” His hand was on the doorknob. “If you decide you want this—want us—you know where to find me.”
“This isn’t fair.” Briar’s voice shook. “You’re punishing me for being scared.”
“I’m protecting myself from being destroyed when you leave.” Magnus’s voice cracked. “Because you will leave, Briar. Maybe not today, maybe not this week. But eventually, something will happen that makes you feel trapped, and you’ll run. And I can’t—” He stopped, composing himself. “I can’t watch it happen. Can’t wait for the other shoe to drop. So maybe it’s better to end this now, before I’m completely ruined.”
“You don’t mean that.” But Briar could feel through the bond that he was lying. That he was as devastated as she was, just hiding it better.
“Take care of yourself, Briar.” Magnus opened the door. “And for what it’s worth, I hope you figure out what you really want. You deserve to be happy, even if that happiness doesn’t include me.”
Then he was gone, and Briar was alone in her broken café with her broken dreams and her breaking heart.
She sank to the floor and let herself cry—for the café, for Magnus, for the future she’d sabotaged because she was too scared to reach for it. Calla was right. She was self-sabotaging. Pushing away the best thing in her life because accepting it felt too risky.
But Magnus was wrong about one thing: she hadn’t been planning to leave.
She’d been terrified of staying.
Terrified that if she stayed, if she let herself need him, if she accepted help and support and love, it would all be taken away. That she’d wake up one day and realize she’d given someone else control over her happiness.
But sitting here now, alone, with Magnus’s words echoing in her head and the bond aching with separation, Briar realized something.
Being alone didn’t protect her from pain.
It just meant she had to feel it by herself.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Rosie: Heard about the bank. We’re having an emergency pack meeting tonight to discuss options. 7pm at Calla’s. You better be there.
Then Pete: Don’t give up on the café yet. We’ve got ideas.
Then Derek: Magnus is a mess. You’re a mess. Both of you need to stop being stubborn and talk to each other.
Then Calla: I’m not letting you spiral alone. Coming to get you in 20 minutes. We’re fixing this.
Briar stared at the messages, feeling something crack open in her chest. These people—this pack—they weren’t trying to control her. They were trying to support her. And she’d been so busy protecting herself from being controlled that she’d been rejecting the support.
Maybe Magnus was right. Maybe she didn’t know how to accept love without seeing it as a trap.
But maybe she could learn.
The question was whether she’d ruined things too badly for Magnus to give her another chance.
And whether she was brave enough to ask for one.
Reader Reactions