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The crisp forest air hung with the smell of woodsmoke and roasted marshmallows as the Seabrook werewolf den came alive with quiet laughter, warm lights, and the occasional wolfish howl. The den—a big, cozy cavern hollowed into the rock and reinforced with tree branches—glowed with soft lantern light. Piles of old pillows, soft blankets, and mismatched chairs made it a perfect hangout for the pack.
Tonight wasn’t about hunting or strategy meetings. No alarms. No turf wars. No aliens. Just hanging out and letting loose.
Well...except for Eliza.
Eliza Zambi sat stiffly on one of the oversized floor cushions, clutching a fizzy soda can like it was a shield between her and certain doom. Her eyes darted to Wyatt across the room—the floppy-haired werewolf lounging back in an old, half-broken armchair like he didn’t have a care in the world.
And the worst part? He kept looking at her. Like that.
“Hey, Liza.”
His voice cut through her thoughts like warm honey, smooth and low and absolutely, criminally unfair. He smiled slowly, one eyebrow lifting just slightly. “You’ve been staring at me all night. Like what you see?”
Choke.
Eliza nearly spat her soda out, coughing into her hand as her face turned redder than the glowing embers of the bonfire. “I—what—No! I was just—” she stammered.
Across the room, Willa elbowed Wynter hard in the ribs, both hiding grins behind their drinks.
“That counts,” Wynter whispered.
Clink. They touched cans and took a synchronized sip.
“First blush and stutter of the night. This is going to be so easy,” Willa smirked, her golden eyes gleaming with glee. “I give it five minutes before she’s bright pink again.”
Wynter giggled. “Not if she passes out first. Or combusts. Either way, we win.”
They settled back onto their blanket-covered log, pretending not to watch the show they’d secretly been waiting for all evening.
Wyatt stood, stretching like a lazy cat. Every motion—every slow, casual step—was obviously designed to make Eliza lose her mind. He strolled over, hands in his jacket pockets, head tilted.
“Why’re you sitting way over here, all alone, babe?” he asked, stopping just behind her cushion. “You could sit with me, you know.”
He leaned down, whispering close to her ear, breath warm against her cheek.
“I missed you today.”
Eliza froze. Her brain completely blanked. She made a noise—half squeak, half word—and immediately took a long drink of her soda just to avoid answering.
“BINGO,” Wynter hissed, barely able to contain their laugh. Clink. Another drink.
Willa wiped a tear of joy from the corner of her eye. “She’s so doomed.”
Wyatt flopped down onto the cushion beside Eliza, grinning wide. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her gently against him. She squeaked again—a ridiculous, helpless sound that made him chuckle low in his throat.
“Relax, Eliza. I’m not gonna bite…” He paused, then leaned closer. “…unless you want me to.”
She smacked his chest weakly with the back of her hand. “W-Wyatt!”
Her blush deepened to absolute fire-red.
Clink. Another drink.
“Three in two minutes,” Willa whispered, amazed. “He’s setting a personal record.”
Wynter covered their mouth to keep from laughing. “I think this is better than movie night.”
Eliza hunched her shoulders, staring hard at the soda can in her hand like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. She wanted to go home. The quiet safety of her little room, her projects, her tech. But...Wyatt was warm. Close. Smiling just for her.
And deep down, she didn’t really want to leave. Not when he looked at her like this.
“Still shy, huh?” Wyatt murmured, brushing a lock of hair gently behind her ear. His fingertips grazed her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her heart stutter wildly.
“You’re...you’re doing this on purpose,” she accused, voice barely above a whisper.
He laughed softly. “Guilty. I can’t help it—you’re too cute when you get flustered.”
Her drink wobbled in her hand. She couldn’t even sip without trembling now.
Clink.
Wynter snorted soda up their nose trying not to laugh. “She’s gonna pass out. She’s totally gonna pass out.”
Willa grinned. “I hope not. This is way too entertaining to end early.”
Wyatt tilted Eliza’s chin gently with his fingertips, making her look at him. His eyes softened—less teasing now, more real.
“I really did miss you, you know. You’ve been so busy lately, I barely see you anymore.”
Eliza’s chest tightened. She blinked at him, her mouth slightly open, unable to think of a single clever comeback.
“I...I missed you too,” she mumbled, her voice tiny.
Wyatt’s smile grew gentle. “Good. 'Cause I don’t like when you’re not here.”
His hand slid down, finding hers, fingers lacing together. Warm. Steady. Safe.
Clink.
“She’s holding his hand,” Wynter whispered dramatically, raising their can. “Automatic drink.”
“Agreed.” Willa clinked. Another sip.
Eliza stared at their hands, feeling her heartbeat flutter like crazy in her chest. She wasn’t used to...this. Sweetness. Gentle touches. Words that made her melt instead of making her want to roll her eyes.
“...You’re making it impossible to want to go home, you know,” she admitted softly.
“Then stay,” Wyatt said simply. “Stay here. Stay with me.”
Her heart did a double-flip. She bit her lip, looking down, cheeks burning.
Clink.
Willa laughed behind her can. “We’re gonna run out of drinks. He’s too good at this.”
“I’ll go get more from the stash,” Wynter whispered, sliding off the log to fetch extra sodas from the hidden crate behind the den.
Meanwhile, Wyatt gently bumped his forehead against Eliza’s, eyes closed, smiling like she was his entire world.
“You’re so tense, babe,” he whispered. “Want me to help you relax?”
She gave him a skeptical glance. “What...what does that mean?”
He smirked. “This.”
Before she could protest, he leaned in and kissed her—soft and slow and unfairly perfect.
Eliza’s mind went utterly blank. Her can of soda wobbled dangerously in her hand.
Clink.
Willa gasped. “A kiss?! Double drink. That’s gotta be worth two!”
Wynter returned just in time to see it. “Ugh, I missed the best part!”
“Don’t worry,” Willa grinned. “He’ll probably do it again in like...thirty seconds.”
When Wyatt finally pulled away, he grinned at Eliza’s expression—wide-eyed, breathless, stunned into silence.
“You okay there, sunshine?” he teased.
“I...you...Wyatt…” she stammered hopelessly, waving her can vaguely at him.
Clink.
“I swear,” Wynter whispered, “she’s gonna break. She’s gonna break like a cheap robot.”
Willa giggled. “Eliza.exe has stopped responding.”
Eliza groaned, hiding her face against Wyatt’s shoulder. “I hate you,” she muttered, though the smile tugging at her lips said otherwise.
“No you don’t,” Wyatt said softly, holding her closer. His nose brushed against her temple. “You love me. Just admit it.”
Eliza sighed, eyes closed, breathing him in—pine, woodsmoke, warmth. She’d wanted to go home so badly an hour ago. Now? She never wanted to move.
“…Maybe,” she whispered.
“Thought so.”
He kissed her temple gently.
Clink.
Willa laughed. “She’s a goner.”
“Total toast,” Wynter agreed. “Best drinking game ever.”
Eliza lifted her head, glaring weakly at the snickering werewolves. “I know what you’re doing, you two.”
Willa blinked innocently. “Us? No way.”
“Just enjoying our sodas,” Wynter said, wide-eyed and completely unconvincing.
Eliza groaned, leaning back into Wyatt’s chest with a soft huff of breath.
“I hate you all,” she muttered.
Wyatt chuckled softly in her ear. “But you love me.”
“Unfortunately,” she grumbled.
His arms tightened around her waist. “Lucky me.”
The fire crackled. The pack laughed. Soda cans clinked again in the background as the game quietly continued.
And Eliza, blushing, warm, and secretly the happiest she’d been in ages, decided that maybe staying here a little longer…wasn’t such a bad idea after all.