The Modern Witch's Guide to Faking It With a Werewolf

Max's POV –

I threw the truck into park, barely feeling the jolt as the gears locked into place. My door was open before I could think, boots hitting the pavement hard as I stepped out onto Main Street.

Restless.

That's what I was. A live wire with nowhere to ground myself.

My hands shoved deep into my pockets, fingers curling into fists as I stalked down the sidewalk, trying to shake the feeling that had been riding me all night.

I didn't even know what the hell I was looking for.

No—that was a lie.

I was looking for her.

Dallas.

And then—I caught her scent.

Faint. But enough.

Enough to have my body locking up mid-step, my wolf snapping to attention.

She was close. Too close.

I turned down the side street before I even realized I'd done it. And the second I did—

She slammed right into me.

The impact rocked us both, her momentum hitting me square in the chest, but I barely staggered before my hands were on her.

She gasped, jerking back, her breathing ragged. Her hair was a mess, strands falling loose around her face, and she was pale as hell, her pupils blown wide, her whole body wired with tension.

But when she looked up—when she realized it was me—

Relief flooded her face so fast it nearly knocked me flat.

I didn't have time to think before my grip tightened, before I pulled her to me, my eyes raking over her like I could see the damage.

"What the hell happened?" My voice came out sharp, rough, too damn raw.

Dallas shook her head quickly, too quickly. "Nothing. I— I was just..."

Bullshit.

My teeth ground together, my wolf pacing inside me. She smelled like fear. Like she'd been running.

And I didn't like that.

At all.

I scanned the street behind her, my grip still locked around her arms. No one was following her. No immediate threats.

So why the hell did it feel like there was?

I tipped her chin up slightly, needing to see her face. Needing to know she wasn't hurt.

"Dallas." Her name came out lower, rougher. "Where have you been?"

She pulled away slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. Defensive.

"I was researching my... problem."

I exhaled slowly through my nose, working to keep my temper in check. Because whatever she was tangled up in, it wasn't just research.

Not when she looked like this.

Not when she'd run straight into me like she was running for her life.

My jaw ticked. I wanted to press, to push, to demand the truth.

But then—she surprised me.

"Can we go to your place?"

I stilled.

That... I wasn't expecting that.

Dallas never asked to stay at my place.

Hell, even when we were younger and she'd crashed on my couch after one of our all-night arguments over some stupid movie, she always made a point of saying she didn't need to be there.

Now, she was asking.

My wolf preened, satisfaction curling deep in my gut, but I ignored it. Now wasn't the time for that.

Instead, I nodded. "Yeah." My voice came out rougher than I meant it to. "Of course."

I let go of her slowly, stepping back just enough to give her space.

But she didn't move away.

Didn't say anything else.

She just stood there for a second, like she wasn't even sure what she'd just asked for.

I jerked my chin toward the truck. "Come on."

Dallas hesitated, then followed, her movements a little too stiff, a little too careful.

I didn't say anything as I opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in without another word.

But as I walked around the hood, sliding into the driver's seat, my hands gripped the wheel so tight the leather creaked.

Something had happened tonight.

And whether she wanted to tell me or not—

I was going to find out.