Branches tear at my skin, and the madness begins to creep in again. My vision darkens at the edges as the red mist descends. Rage floods my veins; adrenaline courses through me.
What if it’s all a lie? What if I’m wrong and she really is a human? What if my wolf fabricated everything about our bond in the firstplace? My wolf howls, loud and aggressive, ready to turn on me. He would attack me if he could. He would scratch and claw at me, sink his teeth into my skin and tear my muscle from the bone.
But without me, he can’t have her. So instead, he runs. He runs until his paws are bloody and his fur is matted with sweat and dirt. His breath comes in ragged gasps, the relentless pursuit of sanity etched into his being. The world blurs at the edges as adrenaline surges, and primal instinct drives him forward.
And then I’m back at the car, naked and coated in mud. The run was chaotic and desperate. And I was lost in it. I had no control. Hours passed before he finally let me drag my weary body back into the car. And I’ve left Maya alone.
Fuck!
I grab the bag of spare clothes I keep in the backseat and pull on sweats and a t-shirt, then drive to her place. I need to take a shower. I need to wash away the blood and grime coating my skin. But I need to see her more. I need to see her more than I need tobreathe.
“I don’t want to see you tonight,” Maya says, moving to close the door in my face.
“Maya, please let me explain,” I plead. My voice is raspy and broken under the strain of my wolf being so close to the surface.
“Explain?” she hisses at me, and her eyes flash with the yellow of her animal. They’re full of a level of rage I never imagined herdisplaying. I can smell it rolling off her, sharp and acidic. “You could have cost me my career! What were you thinking?”
She storms into the house, and I follow after. I want to rip the mask off and show her, but I need to explain first. And she’s so angry—justifiably so—that now is not the time to spring the truth on her—that I never risked her career because she was with me when I turned on the remote-controlled toys.
“Maya, listen—”
“No!” she yells, spinning on me and pointing her finger at me. “You listen. I need to take time away from… from whatever the hell this is. You need to take some time to figure out what you are willing to give me. I’m sick of the mask. I want to know your name, damn it! I want to know your phone number and where you live. And until you’re ready to give me that, that and so much more, I can’t see you. I’ve tried to be understanding. I wanted to let you get there on your own. But I can’t keep doing this. It’s messing with my head too much.”
“I am ready,” I promise her, my voice broken and hoarse. “I’vebeenready. I can take it off now. I can tell you everything.”
“No. Not tonight,” she says as her shoulders slump. “Not in the heat of the moment. Take a few days. Don’t come back until you’re ready to show me all of you.”
“Maya, I am ready.”
“No, you’re reacting,” she says with a heavy sigh. She looks exhausted. Drained. I did that to her. My heart thunders in my chest. My wolf snarls and snaps at me.
“Can I at least give you some aftercare before I go?”
“Not tonight. I need to be alone. To recalibrate. Look, it’s Tuesday. I’ll see you at the club on Friday, and we can talk.”
“Please don’t ask me to leave, Kitten.” My voice is barely above a whisper. My heart has cracked right open. I can’t bear the thought that after all this time—that after I finally found her—I could lose her. “I promise you, I’m ready to tell you everything.”
“You need to leave.” Her voice is cold. Final. She faces away from me. Her arms crossed in front of her
I nod my agreement even though she’s not looking at me and step away from her. As much as it pains me. As much as my wolf howls in agony and claws to get out. I can’t say goodbye. It’s taking all my resolve to keep my wolf down. To stop myself from shifting right here and now.
So I turn and walk away from my mate. Away from the only future that’s worth having.
For now.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ryan
A quick rapping knock on the door interrupts my session with Maya after I have barely sat down, and I want to growl at whoever it is to fuck off. I haven’t seen her since she told me she needed space two days ago, when I was just about to tell her everything. The little gasp she lets out and the reddening of her cheeks soften my anger instantly, though.
“I’m so sorry,” she says on a breathy exhale. “That must be Charlotte, and she would never interrupt a session unless it was—”
“It’s fine, please,” I encourage, seeing her discomfort at her professional bubble being interrupted. The urge to make the situation better takes over all else. “Go, make sure everything is okay.”
“I’ll be right back,” she assures me, and I smile at her, hoping it will soothe her anxiety. Because Maya is clearly worried. I can smell it, and I hate it. She walks brusquely toward the door and slips outside. I tune out all other noise and focus on the conversation happening between the two women.
“I’m so sorry, Maya. Your mom rang when she couldn’t reach you on your cell. It’s your dad. He’s in the hospital.” Her harried tone sets my wolf on edge, and the mention of the hospital has me on alert.
