Is he serious? “Surprisingly,this”—I wave a hand at him— “wasn’t exactly my first thought when you started taking your clothes off.”
I swear Lynx rolls his eyes. His very blue, very beautiful eyes, but still a fucking wolf.
He takes a step towards me.
“Wait!” Even though rationally I know it’s Lynx in front of me, I’m not ready for him to come closer. Flashbacks of that night threaten to force their way into my head, and I screw my eyes shut tight, concentrating on forcing them back. “Just give me a minute.Please,” I add, not wanting him to think I’m angry, because I’m not.
I get what a big deal this is.
For him.
For his club, his pack.
But it’s a big fucking deal for me too and I need a minute to calm down.
Or try.
My body seems to have a mind of its own right now. I breathe in and out, keeping my eyes shut, until I don’t think I’m in danger of hyperventilating.
When I open them again, Lynx is lying down, head resting on his front paws. He reminds me of the big black German Shepherd my old neighbours used to have. Not that I would ever say that aloud. It’s the ears, maybe.
But there’s no mistaking the eyes. They’re all Lynx, even if they are a little bluer than his human ones. And that’s a sentence I never thought I’d say. Even if it is in my head.
Lynx watches me as I straighten and finally move away from the tree. I’m not sure what’s supposed to happen now. And it’s not like I can ask him. Is it?
“Can you understand me?”
Yep, definitely an eye roll this time. And a curl of his lip for good measure.
“I was just asking,” I grumble. “How am I supposed to know what you can and can’t do, since you neglected to mention you were going to turn into a fuckingwolf.” My voice catches at the end. The last time I saw wolves, they attacked me so badlyI needed multiple stitches and a blood transfusion. Is it really surprising that I’m a little nervous right now.
Wolf Lynx whines, his whole body vibrating like it physically hurts him to stay in place. I wonder again what he senses. “Can you tell how I’m feeling?” I ask him, not sure I want to know but thinking that I already do.
He nods once, and honestly, it’s so strange seeing a wild animal nod that I laugh. Even though the idea of Lynx knowing everything that I’m feeling is more than a little horrifying.
And embarrassing.
He sniffs and tilts his head, and I wonder what he’s thinking.
“I’m not scared,” I whisper, and he snorts. “Nervous, yes. But the last wolves I met in a forest weren’t all that pleasant.”
His lips curl back in a snarl, revealing teeth that look sharp enough to cut through flesh.
I know they can.
But I’m still not scared, because Lynx’s anger isn’t directed at me. He crawls closer on his belly but stops a few feet away. He tilts his head again, and I realise it’s his way of asking a question.
I sink to the ground and hold out my hand. “I’m not scared,” I repeat.
It’s all the encouragement he needs to stand up and slowly walk towards me.
I meant what I said, I’m not scared, but he’s still a wolf and I hold my breath as he stops just shy of my hand, waiting for me to make the final move.
It’s only then I notice the faint silver stripes running through the fur on his chest. I don’t think, I reach out to trace them through the midnight black fur.
He shivers, eyes dropping closed as I stroke him.
This is so surreal, but a rightness I can’t begin to explain settles deep in my bones, and I smile. “You’re so beautiful.”
