“I could have killed you,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “If I’d shifted fully, if my claws had been at your throat instead of your shoulder…”
“But they weren’t,” I pointed out, trying to stay calm despite the growing knot of dread in my stomach. I’d never seen him like this—so frightened, so disgusted with himself. “Mason, please. Come back to bed. It’s really nothing.”
He shook his head, backing up until he hit the wall. “No. I need—I need space. I need to think.”
Before I could respond, he grabbed his discarded pants from the floor and practically fled the room. I heard the front door open and close a moment later, followed by the sound of running footsteps on the porch.
“Shit,” I muttered, falling back against the pillows.
I lay there for a few minutes, processing what had just happened. The scratch on my shoulder stung slightly but was already clotting—it truly was minor, barely breaking the skin. The real wound was to Mason’s confidence, to the careful balance he maintained between his human and wolf sides.
With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. The face that looked back at me from the mirror was flushed, hair disheveled, a small smear of blood visible on my left shoulder. I cleaned the scratch with antiseptic, wincing at the sting, and covered it with a small bandage more for Mason’s peace of mind than medical necessity.
After a quick shower to wash away the evidence of our lovemaking, I dressed in comfortable clothes and went looking for my werewolf boyfriend, though I already knew he wouldn’t be in the cabin. When Mason was upset, he retreated to the forest, often in wolf form.
Sure enough, the cabin was empty, his truck still parked outside indicating he hadn’t gone far. I made coffee, knowing I’d need the fortification, and settled on the porch swing to wait.The night was cool but not cold, the forest around us alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures.
An hour passed. Then two. I went inside for a blanket and more coffee, then resumed my vigil. By the third hour, I was alternating between worry and irritation. I understood his need for space, but this was becoming ridiculous.
Just as I was considering going to bed and letting him work through his crisis alone, I spotted movement at the edge of the trees. A large black shape emerged from the shadows, hesitating at the boundary between forest and yard.
“I can see you, you know,” I called softly, knowing he could hear me perfectly. “Standing there being dramatic.”
The wolf—Mason—took a few steps forward, then stopped again, head lowered.
I sighed, setting my coffee mug aside. “If we’re going to have this conversation, I’d prefer you had thumbs and the ability to use words. But if you want to stay furry, that’s your choice.”
For a moment, he remained frozen. Then, with what seemed like reluctance, he turned and disappeared back into the trees. A few minutes later, Mason emerged in human form, wearing only the jeans he’d grabbed during his hasty exit. His hair was wild, twigs and leaves caught in it, and his expression was guarded as he approached the porch.
“You’re still awake,” he said, stopping at the bottom of the steps.
“Waiting for my boyfriend to come home and talk to me like an adult instead of hiding in the woods,” I replied, keeping my tone mild despite my frustration. “Crazy, I know.”
He winced. “I’m sorry. I needed to… clear my head.”
“For three hours?”
“I lost track of time,” he admitted, finally climbing the steps to stand before me. His eyes immediately went to my shoulder,where the bandage was visible beneath my t-shirt. “How bad is it?”
“Literally a scratch,” I said, pulling down the collar of my shirt to show him. “See? Already stopped bleeding. It’ll be gone in a few days.”
He stared at the bandage, his expression haunted. “This time,” he said quietly. “But what about next time? Or the time after that? I lost control, Julian. Completely. It’s never happened like that before.”
“So we’ll be more careful,” I said reasonably. “Maybe use the restraints we bought but never actually tried. Problem solved.”
He shook his head. “You don’t understand. It’s not just about sex. It’s about living with me, being near me. I’m dangerous. My wolf is too strong, too close to the surface.”
I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. “What are you saying, Mason?”
He couldn’t meet my eyes. “Maybe… maybe this was a mistake. Us, living together. Maybe it’s too soon, too risky.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious,” he said, his voice strained. “I love you too much to risk hurting you.”
“So your solution is to hurt me emotionally instead?” I stood up, anger replacing my initial shock. “That’s bullshit, Mason, and you know it.”
He finally looked at me, his eyes tortured. “What if I’d shifted fully? What if I’d lost control completely? I could have killed you, Julian.”
