Sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, I grab a towel off the rack in the bathroom and dampen it under the faucet before scrunching it into a bunch and pressing it to my ribs.
A staggered sigh escapes my lips then, forcing my eyes to focus on my reflection in the bathroom mirror, which leads me to inspect my face.
Thank Goddess, everything still appears intact on my face, and I haven’t suffered any brutal slashes across my cheek.
I would have been angrier if I had. Not because I’m vain, but because I plan on visiting Yvonne and Gio tonight.
Impressions matter, right?
The lasting impression of being a cold, heartless brute when I rejected Yvonne in the past seems to linger, the words I uttered back then echoing in the back of my mind even now as I think about her.
“I, Dawson Black, reject you, Yvonne Lang, as my mate…”
Those words roll around my head to serve as a reminder that I simply cannot make a move on her and expect her to accept it with open arms. Besides, I haven’t fully decided what I want with her, except that fate led us to cross paths after five years, and now I just can’t seem to get her out of my mind.
That’s probably why I was so out of touch tonight. I thought that joining the hunt would take my mind off her, but I only seem to be getting more restless with every passing day.
The nights are crueler when I’m left with my own thoughts, my body reacting instinctively to a she-wolf whosleeps behind my house, probably dreaming about her child’s father and pining for him.
“Hmph!” I grunt, wanting desperately to get Yvonne out of my head, but failing dismally every time.
Five years ago, I would have claimed her as mine. We were on the brink of the rest of our lives together, but she fled the pack before I got the chance to do what was right. There was no doubt in my mind that she would have been my mate—just the obstacle Garret posed when he threatened to cut the funding for my parents’ treatment.
Now that they’re all gone, I have been presented with the perfect opportunity to do things the right way—my way. But Yvonne has since moved on with another male and has gone as far as bringing a child into this world.
It’s not like it matters. If her mate is “long gone,” there’s no reason for us not to try our luck at a second chance. I just don’t understand her hesitation, but I’m planning on finding out tonight.
Chipping away at her rock-solid walls has been a tough feat, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Tonight, when we hunted for the demon, we ended up facing a wild bear in the mountains that decided to be territorial about the cave it found. Perhaps I was trying to prove to myself that I still have it in me to take down whatever comes my way, and that’s why I led the attack against the savage beast that tore into my ribs with its ferocious claws.
Perhaps there’s still some adrenaline from the fight left surging through my veins that has me ignoring the aches and pains I should be feeling from having my flesh sliced by vile claws. It’s that same adrenaline that has me hastily opening the cabinet above the basin and pulling out whatever I have on hand to patch up my injuries.
The others insisted that I needed to visit the clinic to see a healer, but I was adamant that, despite the injuries I faced out there tonight, I needed to see Yvonne. I didn’t tell them that much, but I noticed the way Elias’s beady wolf eyes watched me stumble back home as if he could read my thoughts.
Those thoughts were muddled, and I didn’t even need to shield them from the main alpha’s mind to hide them. I haven’t been able to make sense of them myself.
I mean, I’d spent five years away from Yvonne, and I was relatively fine before I stumbled on her at the river. Now that she’s back in Girdwood, all I want to do is be close to her, soaking up her scent as if it’s my sustenance.
As soon as I’m done haphazardly wrapping a bandage around my torso to cover my injury, I bolt for the back door, becoming strangely rabid until I’m standing on Yvonne’s porch, knocking on her door with raps of urgency.
The door opens, sending a gust of wind knocking in my face, drenched with the floral sweetness that I’ve been craving.
“Dawson…?” she breathes, slightly apprehensive when her brows knit into a frown. “What are you—” Yvonne pauses to gulp when her eyes flicker to my topless chest. Her eyes quickly dart back to my face, and she loses the frown when she shakes her head as if to get rid of some thought that crossed her mind. “Wh—what are you doing here? It’s late.”
“Is Gio around?” I ask, trying to make light of my visit. “I came to check up on him.”
Yvonne lifts a skeptical brow. “You came to check up on my son? In that condition?”
She points to my covered ribcage, but instead of following her gaze, I keenly inspect the way she’s raking her eyes overmy exposed torso. Silver eyes drag over my muscles, pausing at every contour as if she’s committing it to memory.
Smirking slyly, I lap up the attention since I’ve only been faced with her cold nature toward me and her evasiveness.
Seeing her ogle my bare torso gives me hope that she remembers the passion we once shared. Even before I had the pleasure of tasting the treasures between her thighs, I always noticed the way she looked at me.
“What condition?” I ask as I point to the bandage. “This is nothing.”
When Yvonne doesn’t reply, I look up to get a little stroke to my ego. Yvonne seems to be having trouble removing her eyes from my bare chest, and gulps to compose herself when she finally lifts them to my face.
She clears her throat, then her eyes become narrow and defiant as she crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s not nothing. Your bandage is soaked. You should probably get it checked out.”
