Reclaimed From The Moon (Wolf River, ID. Book 3)

by Rebekah R. Ganiere

  And how in the hell could she make him go from hating her to wanting her, all in the span of a car ride?

  He opened the front door and held it for her. She stepped up onto the porch and he held up a hand.

  "The dog stays in the back. Not in the house."

  She glanced down at Bowgie. "But there's no dog house out there. He's an inside dog."

  His eyebrow raised. "Since when did you even want a dog? I'd asked you if we could get one for years but you said you didn't want the responsibility."

  She scratched Bowgie's head. "We wanted each other. I saved him and he saved me."

  What did that mean?

  "He can come through this way but he needs to go in the back."

  She pursed her lips but then nodded and stepped inside. The gasp that caught in her throat slugged him in the gut. He hadn't expected her to ever come back so how could he have known the changes he'd made to the décor would upset her? The house had been her home more than it had been his. She'd decorated it. Cleaned it. Tended to it. He'd worked and she'd stayed home. Just a normal married couple. But that had been before.

  A ripple raced over her skin as she took in the new furniture. His wolf begged him to reach for her. To hold her and tell her everything would be all right. But in truth, he didn't know if it would be.

  He closed the front door and locked it. "Your things are in the closet, where you left them. Not sure anything will fit you but if you want, you can shower and change."

  She nodded and gave him a tight smile. "Thanks."

  "Come on dog." He walked toward the kitchen but Bowgie didn't move from her side.

  Griffin walked back and reached for the dog's collar and Bowgie growled.

  Griffin bent down and growled back.

  "That won't work," she said. "Bowgie isn't scared of wolves. He knows I'm the Alpha and he and I run together all the time. He won't budge unless I tell him to."

  Griffin stared at the large Akita, it refused to look away. Well wasn't that interesting? A dog that ran with a wolf and thought she was the Alpha.

  He stared at the dog a moment longer and then walked toward the kitchen again. "Are you hungry?"

  "No."

  He stepped around the small kitchen bar, flipped on the lights and then opened the back sliding glass door.

  "Bowgie, outside," she said.

  The dog trotted into the kitchen and out the back door.

  "Do you want some tea?" Griffin closed the door and opened the cupboard above the stove. "I still have a container of the Mint Melody you like."

  "Sure," she called. "I'm gonna take a bath."

  "You know where everything is." He dug around in the back of the cupboard, pulling out the canister.

  She sighed. "I'm not sure I do anymore."

  Though her voice came out soft, he heard it clear as day. The pain. The sadness. The loneliness. Griffin placed both hands on the counter and dropped his head. The smell of the tea wafted toward him flooding him with memories. It's taken months for the scent of her tea to leave the bedroom. It permeated her pillows, her clothes, and the cupboard. All reminding him of her.

  He couldn't do this. Having her there would just bring up all that had transpired, all that had gone wrong. But he wouldn't just kick her out like last time.

  One night. He only had to get through one night.

  * * *

  Dakota walked through the front room. Every reminder of her wiped away except for her piano that still took up too much space in the corner. Only now Griffin used it as a table for photos of himself with his brothers, parents, and Marine buddies.

  All of the pictures of them had been removed from the mantel, as well as the walls. The dolls, fans, and other chachkies they'd gotten on their honeymoon across Asia had also disappeared. The couch they'd picked up from an antique store had been replaced with a long, deep, tan, leather sectional. He'd turned it to face the fireplace and had bought a monstrous flat screen television.

  For all the differences though, the familiar fragrance, feel, and sounds of home slammed into her like a semi truck. Memories of passion and loss mixed inside her so hard that her knees threatened to buckle. She sucked in a ragged breath and walked down the hallway toward the master bedroom.

  Pushing open the door, she turned on the light. Relief and surprise washed across her skin and her wolf whined at the thought of curling up in their bed and falling asleep.

  The same deep red bedspread she'd picked out, while he'd been away, adorned the bed. She scanned the room and except for the textbooks scattered over the bed, everything was exactly as she'd left it. Strange that he hadn't torn it apart, trying to blot out every whisper of her existence.

  She walked to the textbooks and thumbed through the closest one. Medical books. He really was in school. He'd talked about it so many times… she never thought he'd actually do it.

  In the closet his clothes hung straight and perfectly pressed, as always. Shoes lined up, awaiting their orders, sweaters folded neatly and stacked according to color, all mimicking Griffin himself. Orderly, organized, no nonsense.

  Her side was the exact opposite. A few items hung limply on their hangers or slumped on the floor, forgotten. She picked through them and located a t-shirt– now a good four sizes too large on her and a pair of ugly gray sweats that lay in a bundle, right where she'd dropped them.

  The fact that he hadn't gotten rid of, or even touched, any of her things confused her. Had he expected her to come back? Or was he afraid they'd infect him? She shook her head. It didn't matter. It was clear he wanted nothing to do with her. She'd spend the night and in the morning be out of his hair once more.

  Her head still throbbed as she walked into the bathroom and turned on the water. She stuck her hand in her pocket and found the wadded up prescriptions. She pulled them out and looked at them. Her heartbeat quickened and her mouth dried. She crumpled them up and threw them in the trashcan.

  "Not even aspirin," she whispered.

  She took a deep breath and stripped off her clothes. She stopped herself from tossing them into the hamper, reminding herself that it wasn't her place. Yes, technically they were still married and her name was on the title but this wasn't her place of solitude. It was nothing more than a place to crash for the night— until she could get back on her own. A set of walls, floors, and a roof. Wood, stucco, and carpet. Just a structure to keep her out of the rain.

  Tears slid down her cheek as she slipped into the tepid water and leaned her head back on the tub. This was no longer her home.

  * * *

  The teakettle’s shriek pierced Griffin's ears, but even the shrill whistle couldn't block out Dakota's sobs from the bathroom. His wolf grumbled and paced. Images flashed through his mind. Skype calls with Dakota when he'd been a month out. Watching as her face thinned and her movements became erratic. Asking if she was okay and listening to her overly jubilant responses— that she was doing fine. Calls with her talking so fast it was as if they'd been on a time limit. And then the drastic change, which happened almost overnight. Depression. Silence. Tears without explanation. The tremendous weight gain. Missed Skype sessions that started to send him into a panic. And finally, the email that had cleaved his soul.

  … I made a mistake… I am so sorry… I'm pregnant… The baby is due in November…

  And then the second email, a month later, containing only six words.

  I miscarried. I love you Griffin.

  He slammed his hands onto the counter then yanked the kettle from the stove, gripping the handle so tight the metal dented.

  She'd broken them. Why should he feel guilty for having kicked her out and starting over?

  How many times had he had the opportunity to cheat on her overseas? Dozens? More? Yet he'd stayed faithful, even under all the stress. And here, in her comfortable existence, she'd partied, gotten high– and gotten pregnant.

  His phone rang and he pulled it out. Cassie. She'd been the one bright spot in his life these last months.
>
  "Hey." He tried to keep his voice upbeat.

  "Hey yourself," she replied. "I don't want to intrude. I just wanted to see if you're okay."

  No, I'm far from okay. "It's not ideal but I'm managing."

  Silence seeped over the line.

  "I had a great time tonight and I'm looking forward to coffee. I just wanted you to know I took care of the paperwork."

  "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

  "It's nothing."

  The water turned off in the bathroom. Griffin pulled a mug from the cupboard and dropped a teabag into it.

  "Well, I'll see you," Cassie said.

  He should reassure her. Let her know that there was nothing going on with Dakota. But he didn't have the energy.

  "At seven?" he asked.

  "Sounds great."

  He poured the hot water into the mug. "Night, Cassie."

  "Night, Griffin."

  He shoved his phone into his pocket then grabbed the sugar, dumped two huge scoops into it and stirred it.

  Outside, shadows deepened across the backyard, enveloping the half-finished gazebo. Like so many other things in his life that he hadn’t gotten to since getting home.

  "Is that for me?"

  Griffin looked over his shoulder. Hair wet and dripping, eyes puffy, and skin blotchy, Dakota looked like she'd shrunk in the oversized clothes. Even so, he was still drawn to her in a way he’d never experienced with another woman. She owned not only his heart but his soul and every fiber of him wanted to wrap her in his arms and kiss her like it was their first time.

  "Why don't I carry it to the bedroom for you?" He picked up the mug and headed toward her.

  "I can do it. It's not like it's heavy."

  He chuckled and handed it to her. Their fingers touched and a spark ran up his arm. He pulled away and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  She gave him a tight smile and walked back down the hall, stopping at the first guest bedroom.

  "There's no bed in there anymore," he said.

  "Oh." She turned toward the second bedroom.

  "None in there either."

  She turned to him and chewed her lip.

  He'd gone completely bachelor pad with the house. Computer room, weight room, big screen television. When she'd gone he'd redesigned everything to fit him and the lifestyle he wanted.

  "You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

  "I don't want you to have to do that. I can sleep out here."

  He shrugged. "I have to study anyway and might pull an all-nighter. Better that someone get use out of it. Let me just change first and then you can go to bed."

  Passing her he caught the scent of his shampoo in her hair. Damn. And he'd just started getting used to Cassie's. Thoughts of Dakota in the tub, naked and alone invaded him. He kept his eyes forward and made for the bedroom. He was with Cassie now. Reliable, predictable, safe. That was what he wanted. No past. No heartaches. No pain.

  He gathered up his books and his gaze landed on the divorce papers. He shoved them into the nightstand drawer, just as Dakota sat on the bed. She pushed her hair behind her ear and blew on her tea.

  She looked so helpless. So tiny and fragile, like a baby bird. He just wanted to wrap her up and protect her.

  Damn his stupid wolf instincts. And damn the fact that he hadn't had sex in forever. Between the two his head was as jumbled as a gumball machine.

  "I have class in the morning but when I get back you can have the car to go get whatever you need." He turned for the door.

  "It's okay, I can call Scott."

  Griffin stopped and his spine snapped straight. Don't ask. It's none of your business. She's not your problem.

  "Is he your boyfriend?" He couldn't stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

  "No. He's–"

  Griffin held up his hand. An image of Dakota laying in Scott's arms flooded him. "Never mind. It's none of my business."

  "Griffin–"

  "I'm going to leave the door open in case you need anything."

  He left before she could say one word more. He didn't want to know where they'd met. He didn't want to know how much she cared for Scott. He didn't want to hear her tell him that Scott was the one she'd cheated on him with. The one she'd been ready to bear a child with. None of it would help the situation. And frankly, if she did tell him, he might just lose his mind and go rip the guy’s throat out.

  She wasn't his concern anymore and he needed to keep it that way.

  Chapter Four

  Dakota awoke to the sound of the front door closing and light blazing through the curtains. She stared at the bedroom wall and waited while Griffin started up his Jeep and backed out of the driveway. Her head still pounded and she blinked back the dizziness that spotted her vision. Damn head injuries.

  She'd gotten no more than a couple hours sleep all night. Between the pain, the coughing, and Griffin coming in every hour to silently check on her, she was as tense as ever. She wondered if this was how she would have felt, day after day, if he'd let her stay. If she'd put up a fight and told him this was her house too. If she hadn't quietly packed her bags and left without a word. Would this have been their life? Silence between them. Tension thick as a New York steak. Him sleeping on the couch, her crying alone in bed, begging him to forgive her.

  For the first time she realized that her leaving was for the best. Over the past year, she'd spent days dreaming about being home again. Hours hoping, he would call and talk to her. Weeks in absolute despair, wondering if she should end it all. How had she not envisioned this? Because she'd expected him to be different. To listen to her. But that wasn't Griffin. He was all black and white. There was right and wrong, on and off, but no in between. There never had been. It was one of the things that had made him such a great Marine.

  Unable to go back to sleep, she slid out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. Her vision dimmed and she grabbed onto the sink for support. A headache stormed through her mind like thunder and her stomach growled. How long had it been since she'd eaten? She'd had tea but that was about it in the last eighteen hours.

  Blinking several times, she focused on the faucet until her vision cleared. She located a spare toothbrush in the emergency box she'd left under the sink and ripped it open. A bottle of ibuprofen stared at her from the counter top. The desire to take two, or four, or six, coursed through her. She picked it up and placed it in the medicine cabinet, out of sight.

  She berated herself for the weakness that still ran through her. No. She sucked in a breath and looked herself in the eye. She'd resisted. It was a win.

  "One day at a time. Just one day."

  A bark sounded from the back yard and she walked out of the room and toward the sliding door while brushing her teeth. She opened it and Bowgie bounded inside, running straight for the front room. He sniffed every surface and then jumped up on the couch and curled into a giant ball.

  Dakota walked back to the bathroom making a mental list of all the things she needed to get done. She had to go to her apartment first. If what Dr. Stevenson had said was true, there would be little to nothing left but she had to see. She wanted to go to the bank, the store, and she had to call her boss. Then, depending on the state of her bank account, she needed to find a new place to live, new clothing, new furniture, appliances and… and… and… She rinsed out her mouth. She was starting over. Again. The difference was, this time she really was starting with nothing.

  Dakota checked the clock. Nine a.m. Her stomach growled again and she headed to the kitchen, glancing at Bowgie.

  "When was the last time you ate?" She plopped down on the coffee table in front of him. He licked her face and she scratched his ears. "Poor baby. You were probably so worried about me." She squished his face and kissed his nose. "I don't know what I'd have done if I'd lost you."

  Together they walked into the kitchen. A note stood on the counter.

  Left for class. Be back in an hour and a half. Help yourself to whatever you
need.

  G-

  She opened the fridge. The sparse shelves stared at her. At least he had eggs and bacon.

  * * *

  Griffin walked out to the quad after class and was struck by all the sights, sounds, and smells of the college. As a Blood Born werewolf his wolf was always near the surface. Able to shift at will, he knew nothing different. But even Blood Born wolves couldn't deny the call of the full moon. And the days leading up to it heightened everything.

  He pulled out his phone and hit speed dial.

  "Griff?"

  "Hey, Caleb." He walked across campus toward his Jeep.

  "How are things?" asked his older brother.

  How were things? Things were totally screwed up. That's how things were.

  "Manageable," he replied.

  "That's better than most then."

  True. "I'm gonna be comin' up for the full moon next week and wondered if your house was finished enough for me to crash a couple of days."

  "Water runs. Still no electricity though. You might be more comfortable at mom and dad's."

  "Yeah… Dad and I are still on the outs." Griffin crossed between two buildings and beelined toward the parking lot.

  It was his dad's opinion, as pack Alpha, that it didn't matter what a mate did, once you were mated, you were mated for life. The bond could never be broken. You worked through crap together.

  "So I take it you told him about the divorce."

  "I'll tell him when it's finished." He could practically hear Caleb shaking his head.

  "Have you turned the papers in yet?"

  Griffin took a deep breath. "Not yet."

  "You know Griff, I don't get into your business."

  "Which is why I like you so much." He pushed the button on his keychain, unlocking his Jeep.

  His brother chuckled. "All I'm going to say is, you've had those papers forever and you haven't turned them in yet. Think about that."

  Which was exactly what he'd been doing the last month. He jogged to his Jeep and opened the door.

  "Have you seen her?"