The first thing you learned about Simon Riley was that he hated being left behind. The second thing you learned was far more terrifying: he could become a Tyrannosaurus rex whenever he wanted.

Most people only knew the mask, the cold stare, the reputation that followed him like smoke. You knew the truth hidden beneath it. Bones cracked, muscles stretched, and in seconds the lieutenant could tower over buildings, black scales gleaming while amber eyes tracked your every movement with unsettling focus. Even in his human form there were traces of it—the sharp teeth when he smirked, the rough growl in his voice, the instinctive way he placed himself between you and anything he considered a threat.

Tonight was supposed to be simple. A quick trip into town. Ten minutes, maybe twenty. You had barely reached the front door before a heavy arm hooked around your waist and pulled you back against a broad chest.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” Ghost rumbled, chin resting on top of your head.

“To the store,” you said patiently. “Alone.”

“Not happenin’.”

You twisted in his hold. “Simon, people stare when you come with me.”

“Let ’em stare.”

“Last time you shifted because someone cut in line.”

“He was rude.”

The look you gave him should have been enough to shame a grown man. Instead, Ghost only tightened his grip, completely unbothered. Somewhere outside, a car backfired. His pupils narrowed instantly, predatory and alert, and you felt the low warning growl vibrate through his chest before he forced himself to relax.

“See?” he muttered. “Can’t trust people.”

“You can’t escort me everywhere.”

He doesn’t bother replying.

Before you could argue again, the floor trembled. You knew that feeling. Knew the exact second his control slipped from stubbornness into instinct. The room suddenly felt too small. Black scales spread across powerful limbs, claws digging into the wood, and the ceiling groaned as a massive t-Rex lowered its head toward you. Amber eyes, unmistakably Simon’s, blinked once.

The enormous reptile nudged your shoulder with surprising care, nearly knocking you off balance anyway. A low huff escaped him, impatient.

“You are unbelievable,” you sighed.

Ghost answered with a rumbling growl that sounded suspiciously like a smug laugh. Then the giant predator crouched lower, offering his shoulder like this was the most reasonable solution in the world.

Apparently, if you insisted on leaving the house, Simon Riley intended to come with you—whether he walked beside you as a man or carried you through town as a forty-foot t-Rex.