The sound of footsteps outside the door to the room hits my ears, and seconds later the door swings open.
“Luke, there's something—” Macy starts.
My mate jolts at the sound of her voice and scrambles backward his arms curled over his head as if to protect himself from my blow. My wolf rises, anger burning through me as myglowing yellow gaze flies to Macy, a low growl rumbling in my throat.
“Sorry, I…” Eyes wide and hands up in a placating gesture, she bares her neck submissively and backs out of the room, clicking the door shut behind her.
Satisfied the threat is gone, I return my attention to my mate and my heart actually hurts when I see him back to cowering in the corner, his limbs trembling with fear.Again.
My wolf whines, every one of my instincts screaming at me tosootheandcalmandprotect, but the human part of me knows it’s not that simple.
Except… maybe it could be?
An idea gradually begins to form; my mate is so close to his wolf that it might help if he was close with mine. A little unorthodox for sure, but maybe the perfect choice in these particular circumstances.
I slowly rise to my feet and strip out of my clothes, keeping one eye on my mate in case he’s startled by my movements and tries to run. Once I’ve folded my clothes on the chair, I shift into my wolf and pad over to him, nudging his crossed arms with my nose.
My mate still smells like chemicals and fear, but underlying that, there’s the scent of forest and fur andmine.
Nine
???
Something cold and wetbrushes against my skin and I peek out through the small gap between my arms. A large reddish-brown wolf stands there, the scent surrounding him familiar.Pine and musk and fur.
The man from the chair… this is his wolf form.
The desire to touch him tingles at my fingertips, but that ingrained fear is still there, and I can’t seem to make myself move. My lip trembles and my eyes burn, my body unsure what to do even as those parts of me I don't understand tell me the wolf in front of me is safety, security, and home.
The wolf takes a half step backward and sits down on his haunches, holding my gaze. He simply stares at me, not moving any closer, as if waiting for me to come to him. I slowly drop myarms and meet his eyes, more comfortable doing that now that he’s in a form more familiar to me.
Well, familiar in that it’s one he shares with me.
The wolf cocks his head to the side, and I inch my hand toward him, the action more reflex than thought. He lowers his head under my palm and nudges me into petting him. The slip-slide of his soft, shiny fur under my fingers is a strange, but pleasant sensation.
He chuffs and scoots closer, resting his chin on my bent knees, almost mimicking my earlier actions when I rested my head on his thigh. He pauses for a beat and, when I don't move away, he leans his body fully against my legs and licks the side of my face, cleaning away the tears I hadn't realized had been falling. He whines and licks me again.
My head is still so foggy, my mind spinning with a combination of dizziness and confusion, but I know somehow that this wolf—thisalpha—won’t hurt me. He’s something special, and once my head clears, I’ll be able to figure out exactly what.
Hopefully.
But for now, I’ll happily take the comfort he offers.
It’s been a long time since I felt truly safe.
I press my face against his fur and wrap my arms around his neck, burying my nose in his fur, and take a deep breath. His scent is there, but this stupid human nose doesn’t pick it up as well as I’d like. I want to bury myself in that smell and roll around in it until I’m covered in nothing but him.
The wolf allows me to hug him tightly for a few minutes before stepping out of my arms and studying my face. Cocking his head to the side again, he seems to weigh his options before taking a step backward, his gaze still locked on me, as if willing me to stay in place.
The air around him shimmers and the wolf disappears, the man from the chair taking his place. But now the man is without clothes, vulnerable like me, and the wolf is in his eyes, confident and reassuring. He doesn't move, simply holds my gaze as if waiting to make sure I'm not going to run again.
“Hey there, little one,” he says after a few beats. His voice is a balm on my nerves, the syllables wrapping me in warmth and comfort. “I don't know what happened to you, but you don't have to be afraid. You're safe now.” He pauses as if debating with himself, and his next words are softer, almost whispered. “I won't let anything happen to you.”
The strange thing is, I believe him. His words ring with a truth I can't explain, and every instinct I have tells me he’s safe.
He reaches out to me, palm up, and waits, his gaze still holding mine. I match the gesture, placing my hand in his, and he smiles, the brightness of the expression crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“Why don't we get off the floor?” he asks. “The bed is more comfortable than the hardwood.”
