NINETEEN
Rocco parkedin the middle of the forest, and reminded me how to shift forms. The shift was a hell of a lot more painful than I remembered, but the pain eventually faded, and then my wolf was at the helm.
She snuggled up against Rocky’s side, letting him sniff her and nuzzle her and check out every damn bit of her. Her chin was held high, except when the other wolf came close enough for her to nuzzle or poke him back—then she nuzzled or poked him.
Seemed like Rocco had been right about them being obsessed with each other.
They didn’t even run right away, just rolling around, snuggling, and playing together right next to the truck for a while.
When my wolf had her fill of that, she barked at Rocky, then growled at him and sat.
He tilted his head, but followed her cue and sat.
She nodded at him emphatically, before taking off running into the trees.
I wasn’t sure what she was doing—maybe playing a game of tag or something?
He didn’t follow her right away though, so he either didn’t know what was going on, or understood something that I didn’t.
I watched the forest fly by, awe filling me as I took in more of the untouched world. It looked completely different than it had when I’d hiked years and years ago; it was wild, completely and absolutely.
It was incredible to me, the way things seemed to have grown so differently without guidelines or trimming. The plants were crazy and reckless, the trees in so many different shapes and colors that it was insane.
Everything was so… alive.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt that wild or free before.
I loved music, but even the creative high I got sometimes wasn’t like that. It didn’t breathe life into me. It was just an obsession. Something I loved, but not something that made me feel alive.
Would it be possible to find a job that would make me feel that way?
Suddenly, I understood why June traveled so much. Why she always wanted to be out there seeing the world, and experiencing more of life.
She wanted to feel alive.
And that made so damn much sense now that it almost hurt.
As my wolf ran, I tried to think of things that had made me feel alive in my life.
My family, before my parents quit the real world?
Hanging out with June?
High school?
No, definitely not high school. I’d rather poke my own eyes out than go back there.
College hadn’t brought life to me. I’d blindly pursued my degree, trusting the asshole of a professor who hadn’t deserved my trust.
Sometimes I’d liked being an RA, when it meant helping someone. Girls had confided in me on so many different occasions. I’d fought for them after they’d had problems with their parents, and with their teachers. When they weren’t sure whether or not they should go to the hospital or call the police after being raped. When they needed someone in their corner and didn’t have anyone, I was there, fighting for them.
And… I’d liked it.
Loved it, even.
As crazy as it was, the job I’d worked just so I didn’t have to share a room with anyone was the only thing that had really made me feel alive for most of my life.
And… well, the pack.