“I can’t risk it.”
“Risk what?”
“It’s my duty as a wolf, never to risk something like that.”
Patience. He was trying to tell her. She had to help him get there. “Something like what?”
“The paddock. Missing it. Not being there in time.”
A finger of instinct tapped her spine, and she held her peace for a moment. Had he seen something, done something she never knew about? Seemed impossible given how close they’d been, how long they’d been close. But she wouldn’t assume. She tugged his hands until he looked up and met her eyes. Through the blanket, the hard planks of the deck dug into her knees. But she wouldn’t move. Not until he was okay.
“As far as I know,” she said, “you’ve always gotten to the paddock in plenty of time.”
He nodded, earnest, urgent.
“But you seem worried about it. Even though it’s not a problem.”
“Because I’m here. Because if I go somewhere like—like the river gorge, I make sure to come home early. I can’t just gallivant to other continents, Kels. What if our flight got canceled? What if there was some global disaster and all the flights got canceled? And I was a whole ocean away from the paddock, and I couldn’t get back here, and—?”
His breath grew short just talking about it, this scenario of danger he had made up. Or maybe he hadn’t. First thing she needed to know.
Kelsey squeezed his hands tight. “Did that happen to one of the pack?”
“It could happen to me. It’s up to me to prevent it.”
“Surely Harmony Ridge isn’t the only place you can be safely confined. We’d find somewhere for you. There are wolves living in every country of the world, right?”
“I…I guess so, yeah.”
She ran her thumb over his tense knuckles. “So we find a lupine forum online, based in the region we’re visiting. We ask about safe confinement for wolves living there, for tourists who happen to change under the moon.”
“I don’t know.” But his breathing began to slow, his voice to grow steady. “My pack is here.”
“Of course. Your pack will always be here. But you’re not trapped here, Trevor. I bet there are a ton of ways for wolves to travel safely. We’ll do a little digging and find out how others make it work.”
“I don’t know, Kels.”
“You don’t want to try?”
“I…” He looked away, cringing at some memory or image she couldn’t recognize. “I could hurt someone.”
“Okay.” She scooted in close to his side and wrapped her arms around him. “You need to tell me where this is coming from, Trevor. How this idea got into your head.”
“I didn’t make it up. Dad saw it happen when he was twelve, before he first turned.”
“Saw what happen?”
“Uncle Alan. He and Dad snuck out earlier that day with some buddies, and he got a little rowdy as the sun started setting, and then he wouldn’t leave. Dad tried to drag him home, but of course he still had human strength at that age.”
Trevor gave a shuddering sigh and leaned into her, maybe without realizing she now supported part of his weight. She rubbed a slow circle between his shoulders. If his uncle had rampaged through town at some point before she and Trevor were born… Wouldn’t she have heard a story like that?
“Of course Granddad couldn’t go out after them. So Uncle Jack—he’s not a wolf—he came and got Alan, got all clawed up by his own nephew. He shielded my dad, kept Alan locked in his arms. Dad always said if Alan had been any older—he was thirteen, he’d only turned three times before that night—he’d have been too strong and someone might’ve been killed.”
Kelsey waited, but he seemed finished. As if another wolf’s story, a single incident, should have the power to keep him in Harmony Ridge for the rest of his life. “I know your instincts at the full moon are…wild. Hunting and defending territory and all that. But you’ve told me how it feels to be a wolf. To wrestle and have fun with Ezra, to run with your pack. None of y’all go all slavering and murderous.”
“But wearewild in that form, Kels. We react like animals if we’re crossed, if we smell blood. It’s why we’re confined in the first place.”
Of course their confinement was necessary. She didn’t mean to argue that point. But he’d taken this so far in his head. “How old were you when you heard the story?”
