Hope(less)

by Melissa Haag

  * * * *

  The next morning I woke early. I’d grown so bored reading the day before that I’d gone to bed by eight. So it was no surprise when I opened my eyes and saw my phone flashed five a.m. Sam would kill me if I woke him up. I only hesitated a moment before I threw back the covers and got out of bed. In the pitch-dark room, I managed to pull my zipper hoodie on over my tank top, tiptoe to my door, and open it without a sound.

  I only managed three steps into the living room when the light near the sofa clicked on, blinding me for a moment.

  “Doesn’t anyone sleep around here?”

  “Sorry. I should know better than to try not to wake you.” His hearing made him a very light sleeper.

  “What are you doing up already?” He sat up and ran his hands through his hair as if trying to wake himself up more.

  I doubted it would work and didn’t think he would appreciate an offer to make him coffee given the time. He’d rather just go back to bed.

  “I was going to check on the truck. He had it mostly taken apart yesterday afternoon. I wanted to see if he’d started putting it back together.”

  “What did you say to him yesterday?” Sam surprised me by getting out of bed and stripping the sheets. We always changed the bedding just before we left so it was ready in case anyone else ever used the rooms. But it was five a.m....

  “What do you mean?” I took a few steps backward to lean against my door and watched his progress. He almost tripped over his bag while pulling off the fitted sheet.

  “Do you want me to start some coffee?” It wasn’t normal for werewolves to be anything less than agile. Coffee couldn’t be good for him.

  “No, I’m fine,” he said, answering my last question first. “I mean, he asked for the keys to the truck last night and brought them back earlier this morning. Truck’s fixed. I checked myself. So, I’m wondering what you said to him.”

  My mouth popped open. I couldn’t believe he’d actually listened to me. A silly smile tugged at my mouth. Did this really mean he’d let me go? My barely formed smile faded. Or would I just wake up back in this apartment tomorrow morning if I tried to leave?

  Sam continued to remake the bed with the clean sheets from the hidden compartment in the matching sofa ottoman.

  There had to be a catch. Sam had told me a tied pair didn’t part until completing the Claim. When Clay had scented me, and I’d recognized him openly, the Elders saw us as a pair. They, in turn, announced it to everyone over their mental link. Every werewolf, whether in a pack or Forlorn, recognized our tie. If my words truly changed Clay’s mind, great—but Sam’s question caused me to begin to doubt that possibility, and I struggled to come up with what I’d overlooked.

  “The truth,” I said answering Sam’s question. “Let’s say he is my Mate. He’s an uneducated man from the backwoods. How are we going to live? I can’t turn on the fur like you guys can and live as a wolf like he’s done for most of his life. Where does that leave us? I just pointed out that I had to go to school to get the education I needed to land a good job to support myself because he can’t.”

  Sam had stopped remaking the bed and looked at me in disbelief.

  “Well, I said it nicer than that.”

  He gave me a disappointed look.

  “You don’t know anything about him, Gabby. He may have lived most of his life in his fur, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t intelligent or that he’s more wolf than man. You may have caused yourself more trouble than you intended.”

  I shifted against the door. “Hold on, I didn’t say either of those things to him.” Granted, I did tell him he needed to bathe. “And what do you mean ‘more trouble’?”

  “He said that you suggested he live with you so you could get to know each other better.”

  I froze in disbelief. That is not what I said.

  “Wait. Did he actually talk to you?”

  “Well, I had to put on my fur to understand him since he was in his, but yes.”

  Sam’s kind communicated in several ways when in their fur—typically, through body language or howls. Claimed and Mated pairs shared a special bond using an intuitive, mental link. Once establishing a Claim, the pair could sense strong emotions as well as each other’s location. Mated pairs had the same ability to communicate with each other as the Elders had with everyone in the pack.

  I closed my eyes and thought back to my exact wording.

  “I didn’t say we should live together, but that he should come back with me to get an education.” Fine, I hadn’t worded it well, but how did he get “hey, we should live together” out of that?

  “Like I said, you’ve got trouble.” He gave me another disappointed look, folded the bed back into the sofa, then picked up his bag from the floor. He strode to the bathroom and closed the door on any further conversation.

  Crap. I needed to talk to Clay again and find out what he intended. I’d been counting on his feral upbringing and his need for freedom to cause him to reject my suggestion—a suggestion that hadn’t included him living with me. I’d meant he should find a place nearby so we could go through the motions of human dating, which was the extent of my willingness to compromise. I hadn’t thought he’d take any of it seriously but that, instead, he would just let me go.

  I left the apartment and stole through the deserted hallways. At the main door, I paused to put on shoes then stepped out into the pre-dawn darkness. The yard light cast shadows near the vehicles. I stood on the porch for a moment but heard nothing.

  Cautiously walking across the empty expanse, I found the repaired truck, but no Clay. My stomach knotted as I studied the truck. Sam’s words about Clay’s intelligence haunted me. A man raised in the wild knew how to dismantle and reassemble an engine. I’d underestimated him. No matter which way I looked at it, it all pointed back to the fact I didn’t know enough about Clay to try to guess what he’d do next.

  Back in the apartment, Sam waited, ready to leave. I didn’t bother with a shower but remade the bed and grabbed my own bag.

  We made it back to the truck without any sign of Clay. Sensing my mood, Sam didn’t say anything to me as I climbed in, and we started the long drive home.

  It was several hours into the ride when I finally stopped looking behind us or stretching my second sight to search for werewolves. There’d been no sign of Clay following us, but there’d been no sign of Clay following me the night before last, either.