Picking up the remote, I pause the movie. An unfamiliar resolve strums through me, and my hand slides under my shirt. The pads of my fingers run over the delicate yet rough mark.
Am I really doing this? Do I want him to come here?
I inhale deeply, stomach clenching. Who knows if this will even work?
“Jax.” I exhale his name in one breath.
I brace myself for a giant wolf to appear, half wondering if I’ve truly gone off my rocker. How else can I explain any of this? The wolf with glittering eyes, the dreams, the messages? But just because it’s beyond explanation doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Thatheisn’t real.
It’s almost imperceptible, but a chill breezes beneath my palm, as if coming from the mark. He hasn’t said how immediate he’ll be able to answer my summoning. It could be minutes or hours, maybe even days. I grip the remote in my hand again—
“Tempest.”
My chest unclenches as Jax’s silvery wolf steps into view, breaths misting the air that flurries with tiny flakes. The room cools with his presence. The thermostat does its usual dip. He springs from the floor and joins me over the comforter, the bed wobbling with the weight of him. He lies down, tilting his ear to the side to look up at me.“You’re crying.”
“Tough day,” I say between sniffles. “It’s the anniversary—”
“Of the accident.”His deep voice soothes me, despite it coming from a ginormous wolf that could easily fit my head in its mouth. I’m still adjusting to the idea that he’s just chilling on my bed with me.“I know.”
Of course he does. He was there, after all.
“I miss her.” Tucking my hand into myTempestsweatshirt, I wipe away my tears on the sleeve. The slips of white begin to slow as I catch my breath. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“You were mortal before…” His furry brows lift a fraction, as if surprised, then he pushes up to his hind legs so our faces are level. “Do you ever miss them—your family?”
“It was a long time ago. I don’t even know exactly how many seasons have passed.”His snout drops, voice etched in sorrow.“I struggled at first. Over time, the pain has remained, though the specifics have faded.”
I stare down at my fingers in my lap, fidgeting with them. “Oh.”
Silver and white sweeps under my chin, Jax’s cheek resting at the base of my throat. I hug around him, running my fingers through his soft fur.“Even so, I’ll never forget my mother’s smile. My brother’s laugh. The taste of cocoa while my father told tall tales.”His body vibrates against me as he purrs, and a few of my stray tears soak into his coat.“Some things are too imprinted to ever disappear, no matter how much time passes.”
Every day Mom is gone, she slips farther from my grasp. Dancing has helped me feel closer to her, one of the few things in my control that I can hold on to.
“Do you think she could be like you?”
“A harbinger?”His body stills beneath me.“I don’t know. Usually they are those who haven’t lived full lives, assigned to live out immortality where it suits them best. I can try to find out, though we don’t tend to interact much with the other paths or seasons.”
“You don’t need to do that…just curious, I guess.” My hands graze his ribs and his heartbeat is oddly in sync with my own, as if it’s amplifying it. When the pulse quickens between us, I release my hold.
Jax shakes out his fur and turns toward the small television, sitting next to me.“What are you watching?”
“The Turning Point.” I hold up the DVD case for him, flipping it over to show him the back. “Have you heard of it?”
“I haven’t,”he replies, shaking his snout side to side.“What’s it about?”
“A young ballerina, her mother who was a former dancer, and her best friend. The choices they’ve made along the way. The paths they take or could have taken. My mom loved it. Figured I’d watch a few of our dance favorites tonight.”
“Want some company?”
“Sure,” I squeak out, a bit surprised that he seems genuinely intrigued. “That’d be great.”
The next few hours we sit in silence together. Time slips by in a blur, and before I know it, the closing credits roll with Leslie Browne performing under the hazy glow of spotlights. I glance over at Jax. He’s still watching, head resting atop his paws. I wonder what he’s thinking.
“Why are you here, Jax?”
“Because you wanted me to come.”
