Season of the Wolf

by Rachel Jonas

  It was the feel of cold wetness beneath my hands that gave the first hint of being outdoors. Then the tall, surrounding shadows shifted into focus, suddenly becoming white pines and oaks, familiar. A heavy breath puffed from my mouth as I stood, rising from all fours, naked.

  There was no doubt in my mind I’d shifted into my wolf, despite not remembering. I blinked, trying to get my bearings.

  I spun slowly, but couldn’t make heads or tails of which direction I was facing, where I might have been headed.

  Nothing. Just trees, melting snow, and moonlight.

  I breathed deep, knowing there was only one way to tap into my body’s internal compass, and that was to shift back into my wolf.

  So, I did, grunting and panting until each bone had moved into place and I was on paws instead of hands and feet.

  I turned right and sniffed the air. East—the direction of my grandfather’s estate. I aimed my body that way and walked. My steps were sluggish, which meant I’d been running at full-speed for a long time.

  Why did this keep happening?

  Where was I going?

  What did it all mean?

  My foot smashed down into a cool puddle of slush and mud just before I heard it—a second set of steps tailing me. I stopped, but didn’t turn, just listened. I heard it again, coming closer now. When I sensed whoever—or whatever—it was close enough that I might get a good look, I whirled around, scanning the trees for movement.

  There, in the shadows … another wolf. Too far away to catch a scent. Whoever it was, they knew to keep their distance.

  We were in a stalemate. If I continued on, they’d follow, and would possibly attack me from behind. If I pursued them, it could be perceived as a threat, ending in a fight.

  But … before I could decide what to do, this wolf … he or she took a step toward me.

  I stiffened, wondering if it was a mistake not to take off running while I still had the chance. But that’s when I caught the scent—female, familiar.

  Roz.

  As if she, too, just now realized I wasn’t a threat, her steps quickened. When she ducked behind a tree, I paused, confused as to why she hid. It wasn’t clear until her wolf, silhouetted by moonlight, shrank into the form of a woman. The only part of her visible to me was the shadow she cast in the snow.

  I stepped closer on instinct, wanting to go to her, but I quickly reminded myself she might not appreciate me prying. For one thing, she hid herself behind the tree for a reason. Still, the inkling to peek was there.

  “You good?” she asked, panting after her shift.

  There was no way to reply like this, without being human.

  She laughed from her hiding spot. “Just … change back. I won’t look. Promise,” she added.

  If I’d been able to, I might have smiled—despite having no idea what was going on or how I got here.

  The chilled air hit my skin and I immediately missed my fur. Taking a page from Roz’s book, I pressed my back to the opposite side of the tree, halfway sure I could feel her energy pulsing through it.

  Or maybe I just wanted to feel it … wanted to be close to her.

  “Chris and Lucas called me,” she stated. “They said you took off and they had no clue where you were headed.”

  Good to know I wasn’t the only one.

  “I pulled away from my dad and came right out to find you.”

  Pulled away … I assumed she meant she somehow managed to break rank again, resisting the inclination to submit when an alpha pushed.

  “When they described what happened, I assumed you’d gone dark again.”

  I smiled at the cutesy little way she put that, like me going dark didn’t have sinister implications.

  “I appreciate your concern, but these woods aren’t safe anymore. I told you about the mutts and—”

  “Which is why I came,” she cut in, missing the point I was trying to make.

  I breathed deep, glancing around, wishing I had the answers.

  “Why didn’t you tell me the episodes started again?” Her voice was soft, sympathetic.

  The back of my head rested against the bark while I thought of the right words. When I found them, I answered.

  “Because I didn’t want you to be as disappointed as I was. Because I didn’t want you to lose hope that I was getting better.”

  She was quiet and I didn’t blame her.

  There was something seriously wrong with me, and just when I thought things were beginning to turn around, this happened.

  “You scared us all pretty bad,” she added in that same somber tone.

  I nodded, despite her not having a clear visual of me. Truth was, I scared myself sometimes, too.

  “They stopped for a while. The blackouts,” she clarified. “Do you think they’re back because you had to kill again?”

  I considered that. The venture north to help Evie retrieve Liam may have been a setback, but I still felt like my other theory was a better fit.

  “Nick?”

  I glanced up when she said my name, focusing on the moon and stars when I chose to let her inside my head.

  “I think it might be a lot of things,” I shared. “But, most of all, I think it’s you.”

  She said nothing.

  “Well … I think it’s a lack of you,” I clarified.

  A soft chuckle brought a smile to my face.

  “This is new,” she teased. “When’d you come up with it?”

  “Mmm … around the time I had to climb down from my grandfather’s roof and had no idea how I got there.”

  Somehow, despite it not being a laughing matter, we laughed anyway.

  I glanced left when five thin fingers wiggled beside me. I latched onto her hand, feeling relief the second we made contact.

  “If I could hug you right now, I would,” she sighed. “You’re not alone in this. You could have told me.”

  I knew this before she even said it, but my original statement still held. There was this huge part of me that was dead-set against disappointing her. In any capacity.

  “Tell you what, next time—if there is a next time—I’ll say something.”

  I imagined her nodding when she replied. “I’ll hold you to it.”

  A period of silence crept between us and the next second, her fingers untangled from mine.

  “Race you back?” A broad smile touched my lips at the sound of a challenge in Roz’s voice. Especially when she added, “Unless you’re scared I’ll win.”

  Before I could even reply, a commotion on the other side of the tree meant she’d gotten a head start on shifting. By the time I turned to confirm, she sprinted off into the darkness.

  I smiled and followed her lead.

  It wasn’t lost on me that the first time we met had been because I saved her. But lately, in circumstances like the one we found ourselves in tonight … seemed she’d been the one saving me.

  Chapter Seven

  Evie

  They were preparing for something.

  Twice, Elise rushed downstairs with her phone to her ear, speaking in code about an estimated time of arrival and shielding sigils. Hilda was unusually quiet, holed up inside her room, which usually meant she was studying.

  Dallas wasn’t so much behaving oddly, just being a bit … aloof. At dinner, he didn’t have much to say, and whenever Elise made an attempt to pull him into the conversation, he responded with nods and head shakes instead of actual words. She’d then pass him a weary smile before turning back to her plate.

  Like I said, things were just a bit strange.

  And then there was Liam—shockingly normal, considering all he’d been through. Actually, he was a bit too normal. He hadn’t said much about the changes I was sure he’d been experiencing—physically, emotionally—but I couldn’t imagine this not being a difficult time.

  Every now and then, when there was no conversation or background distraction to help him hide it, I caught him zoning out, lost in thoughts he hadn’t yet shared. I m
ade it a point not to push, but I hoped to discuss it soon. Aside from those bouts of drifting, he was the same old Liam.

  Attentive.

  Protective.

  Loving.

  Thinking of him as I toweled my hair dry, I nearly attempted to wander inside his head. It only took a second to remember we were no longer connected. A flicker of sadness crept in, but I smothered it with thoughts of how grateful I was just to have him back. How grateful I was that the Sovereign and his witches hadn’t taken him from me completely.

  I dug around in my drawer until I found it—an oversized t-shirt I stole from Liam’s laundry a few days ago. Slipping it over my head, I stepped out into the dark hallway. The house was completely quiet, which was why I nearly leapt out of my skin when I took a step and a voice pierced the silence.

  “Going somewhere?”

  Hilda … I swear the woman’s a freakin’ ninja.

  I cleared my throat, knowing she only asked because she had a knack for putting me on the spot. We both knew where I was going.

  I sighed but didn’t answer.

  A soft laugh fluttered into the air, one quiet enough that no one more than a few feet away would have heard.

  “Go but remember, he’s not as strong as he used to be. He might not be comfortable admitting it, but he feels the difference,” she added. “I’ve been keeping an eye on him. He gets tired easily.”

  Even if she hadn’t said it, I knew. No one had kept a closer eye on him lately than I had.

  Her statement killed some of my enthusiasm to cross his threshold. My desire to be with him hadn’t lessened, but I now questioned whether it was selfish for me to disturb him tonight.

  Well … every night.

  I suppose I was pestering him a bit, although he didn’t seem bothered, but he needed more down time than before. The thought crossed my mind that I should just turn around.

  Hilda let out another soft laugh. “I didn’t mean to discourage you. He needs you,” she reassured me. “I only meant to caution you. He may need a reminder to slow down from day to day, if he’s too prideful to tell you himself.”

  I considered her suggestion—one of many she’d made lately concerning him—and nodded.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Continuing toward the steps, where I assumed she was headed before I came out of my room, Hilda touched a hand to my shoulder. Alone, I stared at Liam’s door, the faint outline of light between it and the frame. Hilda was right about giving him time to heal, to rest, but … I couldn’t seem to make myself stay away.

  I walked in, aware of running water in his attached bathroom as I closed the door behind me. The sheets were cool when I slipped between them, snuggling beneath the comforter while I waited. His bed was now basically mine, too, seeing as how this was where I spent all my nights.

  Not that he seemed to mind sharing his space.

  The water stopped and my keen hearing made it easy to mark his every move—the moment his foot landed on the rug beside the shower, the rustling of fabric when he grabbed a towel, the hinges creaking when he opened the door.

  Our eyes locked and I was relieved to note how his expression softened at the sight of me, making it clear he definitely preferred our new sleeping arrangement versus the old.

  Feeling unbearably shy under his stare, my teeth sank into my lip as he sauntered closer. Beads of water escaped the ends of his hair, streaming wet trails down his chest, his stomach. It was impossible to decide whether he looked better coming or going. Even after seeing him from all angles, I hadn’t been able to choose.

  I hardly took my eyes off him this week, since he’d been awake and, once again, an active member of our household. But mostly, I hadn’t been able to look away because I was drawn to him. Just like the proverbial moth to a flame. In fact, the allure seemed to be even stronger now than before.

  A warm smile passed my way and my heart lurched as he lowered onto his side of the mattress, covered only by the towel wrapped around his waist.

  “You’re spoiling me,” he said. “Having you here every night is something I could definitely get used to again.” The words puffed from his lips with a deep, gentle laugh, but I was fixated on one word in particular.

  Again.

  He said again. As in … like before.

  Our past together was never far from his mind.

  My fingers flitted through my still-damp hair, and the thoughts I tried to keep bridled got away from me. Once that happened, it wasn’t long until a bit of doubt crept in despite myself.

  Thanks to Hilda.

  “Is it … okay?” I stammered. “It wouldn’t hurt my feelings if you wanted space sometimes.”

  And it wouldn’t. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel crowded out of his own sanctuary. I understood he was dealing with a lot, and wouldn’t take it personally.

  His brow tensed when he glanced back, letting an incredulous laugh slip out.

  “Are you joking?”

  The question made a smile quirk on my lips, but I didn’t respond.

  “Evangeline, I’m pretty sure the decision to return to your own bed would force me to kidnap you,” he chuckled. “I’d drag you back, kicking and screaming if I had to.”

  That smile of his widened and the bout of nervousness passed.

  “Caveman-style?” I asked, relaxing against his headboard.

  His thick brow jutted up when he passed another look over his massive shoulder.

  “If that’s how you like it,” he quipped.

  Those smoldering, hazel irises dragged over me, the look inducing erratic breaths before my eyes slipped from his.

  Lower.

  To a body corded in rigid muscle, sheathed in bronzed skin. The temptation to reach my hand toward his back was overwhelming. At the very thought, I imagined feeling the water from his shower on my palm.

  He needs rest, Evangeline.

  I repeated those words to myself often, in moments of weakness such as this. A few minutes ago hadn’t been the first time Hilda scolded me. She issued many warnings, actually. All brought on by her tendency to catch me watching him, or sneaking into his room like tonight. Once, she went as far as comparing my behavior to a cat in heat, clawing at the walls, restless. I didn’t argue with her, and actually laughed at the analogy because, well … her observation wasn’t too far off.

  I sighed, feeling the steady thrum of my pulse throbbing in my lips as I licked them.

  He needs rest.

  Hilda was right; I should back off.

  “So, I heard you and Dallas talking about putting that gym in the basement to good use,” I inquired—anything to get my thoughts fixated on something other than … the physical.

  Liam nodded, using the second towel he brought with him to dry his hair a bit.

  “Yeah, I think it’s time. I know everyone’s concerned about me taking it easy, but I won’t get back to being myself by just sitting around.”

  Silence.

  Neither of us spoke as I imagined mirrored thoughts passed between us—that no amount of working out would ever really get him back to being himself. There wasn’t an exercise regimen for reviving a dragon.

  “But … that’s the plan,” he sighed.

  I pursed my lips together as I watched him. There were certain topics I avoided. We avoided. Talking about how he felt was one of them, but it only seemed right to ask.

  “Are you … okay?” My voice was small, and I hated the tone of the question the instant it left my mouth. ‘Defeated’ was the word that came to mind.

  Broad shoulders lifted into the air with a shrug, the muscles beneath them working with each movement.

  “Depends on the day,” was all he said.

  I didn’t push.

  With what seemed like a forced smile, he gazed at me. “But I hardly notice I’m not whole when you’re here.”

  I drank in the sight of him, drowning in the emotional wells through which he stared.

  He needs rest.

  Gi
ving him space was easier said than done. I understood he still needed time to completely recover, regain his strength, but … did he really need strength? I mean, I had no problem doing all the work.

  I discreetly palmed my forehead.

  Dude … seriously? What the heck are you saying? Just … stop!

  My cheeks burned hot as I imagined us entangled in ways I ought not to, considering he was still on the mend and all. But then he stood, our gazes locking once more, as if these unladylike thoughts of mine had been blasted from a speaker. Didn’t help that I looked guilty—biting my own lips because I’d gotten beside myself.

  He blinked and I knew he felt it, the raw, almost animalistic attraction I held for him. Usually, I was able to hide it, but not so much lately.

  Maybe it was brought on by my excitement over having him back.

  Maybe it was because nearly losing him made the feelings between us so much more powerful.

  I loved him, yes, but … this felt like more than love.

  It was a deeply rooted need I developed—to belong to him. The only thing that made sense for me was being his.

  Let the man rest.

  Good ol’ Hilda’s voice rang inside my head again, also making me recall yet another of her helpful quips—‘Put it on ice, child!’

  I smiled to myself, hearing her rich dialect as though she were in the room with us. Liam—having no inkling of the madness running rampant inside my head—smiled back before disappearing for only a moment to slip into a pair of pants. On his way back, he turned out the lights. I listened to his steps as he crossed the room and then filled the space beside me.

  Within seconds, I was warm and in my happy place—his arms. Solid, strong, they engulfed me. Breathing deep, the smell of him satisfied my senses—the combination of his skin’s earthy aroma, blended with soap and clean linen.

  I remembered waking up in his bed after I first transitioned. That same intoxicating blend had been on his sheets, the shirt he loaned me after burning my own. I didn’t realize then that I’d always known it, but I did now.

  We were more than a couple, more than bonded.