Searching for Home (Wolves of West Valley Book 2)

by Sarah J. Stone

  He couldn’t blame her.

  They stepped out of the car, the grass slick beneath their shoes, and she quietly followed him into the woods.

  “Are you going to check me for ticks after?” he could hear she was teasing.

  “I’ll check you if you check me,” he shot back, smiling at her.

  She chose to stay by his side even after seeing what kind of shit he was going through. She could make jokes and make the situation seem easier than it was, and he adored her for it.

  “All right,” he said, stopping in an arbitrary clearing. “I’m going to shift. It’s going to look pretty grisly,” he admitted. “My body doesn’t just magically turn into a wolf. I have to be rebuilt from the same blocks. It’s not going to be fun to watch,” he warned her.

  Sierra stepped closer to him, laying a kiss on the side of his mouth where his lips weren’t split.

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, but I’m not lying when I say I’m ready for this,” she was comforting him, and it was both bizarre and sweet.

  “Thank you,” Anthony replied. Squeezing her hands, he stepped back.

  The shifting was hard.

  Some bones had broken in the fight, and he only realized this as they rebroke in the shift to form back to how they used to be. A rib, a couple toes – he felt them crackle like they were on fire and pushed through it. The bruising was the easy part, same with the cuts. He felt them melt into his skin and vanish like wax into wax.

  When he was finally back on four paws, he shook his whole body in excitement, like a dog who climbed out of a bath. He stretched, and then had to fight the urge to take off into a galloping run.

  Right then, he needed to focus on Sierra.

  Her face wasn’t readable. She looked like she was concentrating, and he wasn’t sure on what. Anthony felt his tail wag, and he sat down on the soft forest floor to wait.

  He’d be patient.

  She could approach him when, and if, she felt comfortable enough to do it on her own.

  He wasn’t going to pressure her into it.

  Sierra stood dead still, her eyes the only things that moved as they roamed over his body.

  Some part of his mind spoke up in a way he didn’t expect.

  What if she’s scared of him?

  What would happen then?

  She’d be safe; that’s the main thing. Without him around, she wouldn’t have any target on her back that made her seem like she’d lured him into being a blood-traitor. She’d be able to live her normal human life without him. Spending her life in her tiny town with her mother, growing old while still working at the Casino.

  She’d be alive, though. She’d be safe.

  A small part of him hoped that she’d fear his wolf. He actually wanted it. If she was scared of him, it would all be easier. He’d be able to join the pack, and they’d just be friends, if even that.

  The rest of him ached at the thought, though.

  Her fearing him was nothing he wanted.

  Anthony wanted her to be as wild about him as he was about her.

  Taking a deep breath, Anthony made himself sit still and watch her.

  Sierra looked like she was steeling herself for something. Like she was making a thousand decisions in the couple of minutes that were passing. It reminded him of when his laptop would overwork and make a loud humming noise. He knew something serious was going on, but he wasn’t quite sure what.

  He started to lose hope, started to think that he’d have to shift back so they could leave and never mention this again, when Sierra began to walk toward him.

  Anthony became still as stone, not wanting to make any movement or noise that might spook her.

  She stepped closer, taking her time, and he watched with interest.

  After a few moments, she was standing in front of him. Hand out.

  He knew this gesture. It was usually for dogs, but he couldn’t take offense at it. He licked her hand gently, trying to show how docile he was, even as a wolf. This seemed to embolden her, and Sierra reached out to touch the top of his head.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Touching him for the first time as a wolf and feeling his fur under her fingertips was almost exhilarating.

  Sierra leaned down to his level and stared into his big, dark eyes for any trace of Anthony. The wolf blinked slowly, and then nudged her hand.

  “Greedy, aren’t you?” she teased, running her fingers through his coat and getting as much sensation as she could. Just five minutes ago, this creature was a man. Less than three hours ago, she’d kissed him.

  Now he was a beast.

  A proud beast, of course, standing like he should be one of the hundreds of statues that littered West Valley, but a creature that was no part human.

  “Are you still in there, Anthony?” she caught herself asking. She knew that it was him – she’d seen the change herself – but she couldn’t imagine that he was still able to understand her.

  The wolf nodded.

  Within the hour, they were back in the car, and he was human. Driving. Sierra looked at his hands, at his face, and realized this was it. They’d passed the final threshold they’d been fearing, the one line that had scared her so much she hid from him the second day they knew each other.

  Now he was sitting there beside her, and she wanted nothing but to kiss him. To thank him for sharing this part of his life with her because she knew it couldn’t have been easy.

  “You know I’m not a dog when I’m shifting, but I did enjoy those ear scratches you gave me,” he teased, and Sierra scoffed.

  “Well then, I guess I’ll just do those instead of kissing ya,” she shot back, obviously teasing him as well.

  “So, you’re really okay with this? All of it?”

  “I’m in for the long haul.”

  ***

  It wasn’t quite a love confession, but knowing she’d told him she was there for anything felt like one. Sierra quickly changed into her work clothes, scooping her red hair up into a short ponytail.

  “Sorry I have to work,” Sierra said softly.

  “Don’t be. I’ll see you tonight when you get off. We should go to the hospital in the morning,” Anthony answered, pulling her against him. He kissed her slowly, and Sierra was tempted to just call off work and spend the evening in the arms of the man she was in love with.

  She wasn’t going to hold back saying she loved him from herself anymore. She’d tell him when she was ready.

  “I should stay at my place tonight in case anyone comes by to ask about my momma,” Sierra sighed, leaning her head against his chest.

  “That’s a shame,” Anthony answered, tucking some of her stray hair back behind her ears.

  “I can’t wait to see you again, though,” Sierra added. Leaning up, she stole another kiss, feeling cheeky in the work costume she used to loathe.

  “Me too,” Anthony said, seeing her out.

  Standing on the other side of the door, it felt almost strange to think that the man she’d fallen for was just some drifter staying in a hotel at her work.

  What were the chances they got to meet and that she’d see what she did, which made him end up pursuing her?

  Sierra pulled out a cigarette, wanting to grab a last smoke before work, and then stared at it for a second.

  She’d been trying to quit.

  This was the first time she’d even touched a cigarette since their first kiss.

  Something in the air was electric, though, and she needed the small kick to get her to her shift. She stood outside the entrance for a moment, the regular crowds pushing past, and finished her cigarette like it was made of gold.

  She wasn’t going to buy any more packs.

  That was final.

  Trying to drop her expression into something more blank, Sierra headed into work.

  Same customers.

  Same job.

  After doing this for so long, nothing
besides Anthony had surprised her.

  A newcomer sat down at the bar, and Sierra was quick to greet her.

  “Hi, I’m Sierra. What can I get you?” she asked, leaning on the bar, toward the customer.

  “Sierra,” the stranger started, the name rolled out like it had been practiced. “Did you know you’re dating a murderer?” the stranger asked, leaning back in her chair.

  “What?”

  “Your wolf boy, he killed over ten people less than three months ago,” the woman asked. Her eyes were dark and focused on Sierra’s.

  “Shh, what do you mean he killed people?” Sierra asked, ducking her head closer, not wanting to draw attention to anything this crazy stranger was saying.

  “He’s looking for a pack because he killed his last one off, including his mother and sisters,” she said, resting her elbows on the counter.

  “Who are you?”

  “A friend. I’m not here to see you get hurt just because he’s persuasive,” the woman answered.

  “Was he found guilty? Did he admit to doing any of this?” Sierra asked, wanting to get right to the point.

  “Nah, he was smart and was able to get out of it because the police weren’t much help. He got off free with a fake alibi that he was out of town,” the woman complained. It sounded like she’d said it a dozen times before.

  “I don’t think he could kill someone,” Sierra shook her head, thinking of where they had just been. He was a wolf, and he let her pet him like a lap dog.

  He wasn’t the type to rage out or kill anyone; she was sure of it.

  “How well do you really know him? He’s been in town for, what? A handful of days? A week tops? Do you really think that tiny amount of time gave you enough information to find out if he’s a killer?”

  “Who are you? No messing around,” Sierra shot back, not reacting to the harsh words.

  “My name’s Ivy. I grew up with him. My brother was in that pack killed by your boy toy.” Ivy rolled her eyes as though everything was too tedious for her right then.

  “He’s not a killer.”

  Sierra was holding her ground. She didn’t care that this stranger seemed so set in what she was saying, that she had such real conviction. People could believe anything if they convinced themselves of it.

  The trouble was figuring out if Ivy had convinced herself of Anthony’s guilt, or if Sierra had convinced herself of his innocence.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sierra was glad to be with someone she could talk to, even if her mother’s replies weren’t what she expected.

  “Momma, I’m being pulled ten different ways,” she said gently. Sierra was leaning forward next to her mother’s bed, bags under her eyes from lack of sleep.

  Did he kill someone? Was he an entirely different kind of monster than she expected going into this?

  “Momma,” Sierra repeated, shaking her mother’s hand slightly. “Are you still here with me?” She didn’t expect her mother to actually answer any of her questions. She didn’t expect her to even reply, but ignoring her entirely hurt. Her mother stared at the TV screen, zoned off into another corner of the galaxy.

  She wasn’t who she used to be.

  Sierra could still taste her mother’s cooking. She could still smell the way her Crock-Pot beef stew would fill every inch of the house with its delicious savoriness.

  She’d be doing homework or playing, and her mother would be at her side either helping with any questions or playing along. Sierra acted too cool for her when she became a teenager and pushed her mother away right before she lost who she was as a person forever.

  When the accident came, Sierra was immediately lost. She was an only child. No family besides her mother anymore.

  The doctors told her at just sixteen that her mother wasn’t going to regain consciousness. She’d either stay in a vegetative state, or she’d pass during the night; her head injuries were too severe to offer her any other options.

  When her mother opened her eyes, everything changed.

  Now Sierra was at her mother’s side whenever she could be. She cooked for her – she’d had so many failed stew attempts until she could finally make it the way her mother did – she cleaned her, she kept her entertained, and she talked to her.

  Sierra’s guilt made time for them to be together.

  Breathing out heavily, she sat back in her seat and stared at this woman who used to be so vivid.

  She was a faded image, a melting piece of film that’s become indiscernible . Sierra was looking directly at her living, breathing mother, and she felt absolutely alone.

  “Momma, can you still remember what it is to love someone?” she asked gently. She could have turned off the television, could have forced her mother to pay attention to her. She didn’t want to.

  The pamphlets from before sat with her mother’s things.

  Sierra flattened them out by pulling them taut and rubbing them against the corner of her mother’s food tray.

  “Raising the standards of excellence we expect from nursing homes!” one boasted. Stock models in nursing uniforms were smiling, looking friendly.

  Not like people who had to work with parents that people abandoned.

  The facility was small, meaning her mother had a better chance for one-on-one time with people.

  Sierra looked up at her, watching her mother’s spacy stare.

  Was this the right step?

  Would this help both of them live their lives in a way that resembled what it used to be?

  Sierra sighed, feeling tears well at her eyes.

  “Momma, I wish you could help me make this decision. I’m terrified of choosing here,” Sierra said gently, wanting to collapse to the ground.

  Everything was nonstop lately.

  Everything was too much.

  She wanted some clarity for herself as well, some time to just zone out and stare at the television. Not that she wanted to go through anything her mother did, but Sierra had spent all of her adult life being her mother’s mother. She hadn’t had any chance to try partying or even dating. She didn’t get an opportunity to even figure out who she was.

  Her mother shuffled on her bed, turning away from the television.

  Guilt sparked in Sierra’s stomach, almost wondering if she’d heard her thoughts, and then her mother drifted off into a comfortable looking sleep.

  She’d been selfish keeping her at home.

  She couldn’t keep an eye on her constantly. It wasn’t fair to her that she had to try to.

  “Momma, I love you so, so much,” Sierra said gently, taking her mother’s hand in her own. “I would do anything if it meant you’d be able to come home with me as yourself. But like this…” Sierra motioned vaguely, and a sob broke out of her throat.

  Her mother shifted quietly in her bed, and Sierra watched with complete attention.

  “Momma, I wish you could tell me how to do right by you. I wish you could give me a sign,” she said quietly. “I wish I could talk this through in a way that didn’t just feel like I was talking at you,” she continued.

  Her mother’s eyes fluttered, but she didn’t reply.

  She knew her mother would never entirely be able to reply, no matter how hard she worked.

  Leaning back, she picked back up the pamphlets and pulled out her phone.

  She could still offer her mother a better quality of life. Anything better than she’d been able to do for her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Anthony was eating leftovers from one of his outings. He was tired. His wounds were healed, but he still felt torn open. He’d have to make it clear to the pack that he wasn’t trying to ruin any bloodline. That having a child born with just half or quarter shifter blood was still better than having no shifter child born.

  He knew how they’d respond to that, and his body ached in preparation.

  He needed them to accept him.

  After meeting Sierra, leav
ing wasn’t an option anymore.

  She was different from literally everyone else he had ever met. She understood him in ways he didn’t think anyone else could, and it was impossible to imagine leaving her.

  He couldn’t do it.

  Anthony laid out on the bed, staring at the popcorn ceiling, and tried to figure out how he got to this point. How he went from losing everyone and everything that mattered to him to falling for the first person who saw him shift outside of the pack.

  He drifted in and out of sleep for a while, time blurring together until he didn’t keep track of it anymore. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for – he wasn’t sure that he was waiting for anything – but he didn’t want to move. Didn’t feel like he could.

  The sunlight was an amber-orange coming in through the window when his sleep was interrupted.

  Anthony stretched and yawned, pulling himself away from the mattress that had absorbed most of his body heat. He slid on a shirt and made his way to the door. His feet felt heavy and fuzzy, and when he made it to the door, he wasn’t entirely sure he was actually awake.

  Peering through the eye hole in the door, he was immediately awake, like he’d chugged a gallon of coffee. He felt so much energy burst through himself that he had to remind himself to keep calm.

  “Hey,” he said, opening the door the whole way.

  She was gorgeous.

  She’d always been gorgeous.

  Anthony motioned for her to come in, and then closed the door.

  Immediately, they were kissed, pulling each other close like they couldn’t spare an inch.

  Anthony let himself get lost in the kiss, enjoying her taste, her touch. He slid his hands to her waist and held her there firmly. When the kiss finally broke, her face was pink, and he couldn’t help but admire how good she looked flushed like that.

  “Anthony,” she said softly, stroking her fingers back and forth against his bicep.

  “Yeah?” he asked. Loosening his grip, Anthony led her to his bed and sat down. She sat beside him. He could smell how nervous she was, and it affected him, too. Was she going to break up with him? Did she finally come to her sense about him?