I thought I was dreaming it again at first.
Until I was startled fully awake.
And I knew it wasn’t a dream.
It was reality.
And it was eerily close.
A lone wolf’s howl.
I leaped out of bed, rushing toward the window, and looking out into the yard.
Then there it was.
Just like the one from my dream.
Standing a few feet off from the front porch, his big head tossed back, his mouth forming a little O as he bellowed.
My hand rose to the glass, settling it there as if I could touch its fur, could feel it sifting through my fingers.
A strange fantasy, to be sure.
As if sensing my presence, he stopped suddenly, and his yellowish eyes pinned me in my place.
Some strange part of me wanted to rush out, wanted to reach out and touch him.
But seeing as he was a, you know, freaking wolf—and a massive one at that—I went ahead and backed away from the window.
I stayed close enough, though, to watch him.
And what did he do?
He paced.
Right in front of the front porch.
Over and over and over, his gaze slipping from watching the darkness, to glancing back at me.
What did I do?
I watched him.
All night long.
Until the moon was finally starting to go down, and the sun was stretching its fingers across the sky.
Only then did he look back at me, walk up onto the porch, lean down almost as if he was dropping something, then looked at me, and ran off.
I watched him as he went, his massive body practically flying into the woods with his long strides.
Then I went ahead and waited an extra couple of minutes to make sure he wasn’t still hanging around and cracked open the front door to see why he’d been on the porch.
And there it was.
Another of those milky, slightly iridescent crystals. Like the one I’d found on my window ledge.
A wolf had… brought me a present?
I was no wildlife expert, but that seemed, abnormal, right?
What was perhaps even more abnormal, though, was that I took the rock to bed with me to take a nap, sleeping away the day, just so I could get up and see if my wolf came back the next night.
Or the fact that my heart seemed to swell in my chest when I saw him come walking out of the woods to pace my porch yet again.
What the hell was going on?
CHAPTER SIX
Waylon
I anticipated the pain.
From all the stories that were passed down to us through the generations, we all knew that the pain of a rejected mate was something intense, something you never wanted to experience.
I hadn’t expected for it to feel like a thousand daggers stabbing me all over my body with each step I took away from that house, away from her.
All because I’d fucking lied to her, been secretive with her.
But what was I supposed to tell her? That I’d been in my most primal form when I’d first sensed her? That I’d lost control of the beast within me and damn near assaulted her in the woods?
Then left her there.
Unsure.
Alone.
How was that any better than letting her believe she’d hit her head and imagined it all?
I’d wanted a fresh start, to build a relationship with her, to find some trust. Then I planned to explain it all.
I was always going to tell her the full story.
When the time felt right.
I thought I’d get the chance to get there.
What a huge fucking mistake.
I barely made it to the woods before the Change took over me.
I dropped to my knees in the dirt and pine needles as the wolf tore his way out of me.
I flew through the woods, trying to outrun the pain, but it got worse and worse the further I went until I had no choice but to give in, to go back to the cabin.
I paced and howled and whined.
Then I felt her.
The urge to burst through the front door, to feel her again, was so strong I’d barely been able to hold myself off.
I’d never felt anything like the pain I felt even in my wolf form as I was only a few yards from her, knowing I would likely never get to have her again.
That fact didn’t change the bond, it didn’t shake the need to be near her, to protect her.
The way she watched me was the only thing giving me any hope.
For as long as I paced—all night—she was somewhere in the cabin watching me.
Finally, I felt the dawn coming, so I left her the stone, then made my way back to my camp, writhing in pain until sleep finally claimed me.
And so the cycle went for a few days.
My pacing.
Her watching.
Until, on the fourth day, the door slid open, and there she was.
The smell of her almost overpowered me.
The chorus of the animal inside of me chanted over and over Mine mine mine mine mine.