Okay, you couldn’t lie this was kind of fun. You rarely got to run wild like this, not when the townsfolk usually tried to kill you or whatever poor Peculiar you were running with. But today? Today had been chaos in the best way.

Jake’s arrival wasn’t your favourite thing in the world it stressed Miss Peregrine more than you’d ever seen her but scaring people in the pub with Millard just to get Jake out? Yeah, that had been worth it. Especially when Olive grabbed him and you and Millard bolted.

You tore after the horse carriage, claws digging deep into the earth before separating and heading through the side of town, through the woods. The forest welcomed you in wolf form: fur bristling, paws pounding, breath hot in your throat.

You knew what you looked like an oversized wolf, fur thick and wild, muzzle curled back over gleaming fangs. The villagers would call you a monster. But right now? You were nothing but freedom and fury.

Jake had asked where you were going, watching the blur of you vanish into the trees. The others exchanged looks.

“Home,” was all they said.

By the time they reached the house, Miss Peregrine opened the door, pipe in hand, smoke curling around her like watchful eyes. She extended a hand to Jake, introducing herself smoothly, but her gaze quickly slid to Olive, Millard, and Emma.

“I do hope I’m not going to have the pub landlord knocking on my door with the police again,” she said, voice sharp as her eyes narrowed. “I’ve had to kill them twice this month.”

Emma swallowed hard. “Olive may have… started a little fire. But they were going to hurt Jake!”

Miss Peregrine’s lips pursed as she waved the three of them inside.

She led Jake to the kitchen, pressing a steaming cup of tea into his hands. Olive, cheeks still flushed from chasing Enoch, barely managed to set it down without spilling.

When Miss Peregrine eventually walked Jake into the garden, introducing him to the others, you walked over through the bushes of the garden this time in human form, damp hair clinging to your forehead, shorts slung low on your hips.

“What took you so long?” Miss Peregrine asked, one brow arched.

“I couldn’t find any clothes” you muttered with a shrug.

Jake turned at your voice, his eyes sweeping over you with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. His lips parted as he said your name softly, almost reverently.

“My grandpa used to tell me how you used to protect him.”

Your jaw clenched. “Yeah. Funny enough how the first time I wasn’t there, he died.”

Miss Peregrine’s eyes widened, hand snapping against the back of your head. “Watch that mouth.”

Before either of you could argue, Bronwyn came barreling across the garden, voice raised in panic. “Miss Peregrine there’s a police man at the door he said it was about the pub!”

You groaned, jogging after her with Miss Peregrine close behind, already muttering about how exhausting they could be.

Later, when things had finally calmed and Miss Peregrine was preparing dinner, you stayed beside her, leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

“You should be careful with what you say,” she murmured, slicing vegetables with practiced ease. Her tone was softer now, meant for you alone.

“Saying something about Abe could upset Jake especially with how soon his death was.” She handed you the tray of chicken to slide into the oven.

“Upset him, or you?” you asked, nudging the oven door closed with your knee.

Her hand stilled, knife poised above the cutting board. For a moment, her falcon-sharp eyes met yours calculating, cautious, and maybe even hurt.

Then she smoothed her expression, lips curving into that tight, unshakable smile she wore like armor. “Both,” she admitted quietly.