She had seen camera flares before, but none like this. He had been in the shadows, away from any sunlight that could reflect in his irises. Even if it was a flare, there was no way blue eyes could become golden like this from a raw photo.
Erica stared longer, and let those eyes burn into her memory. She couldn’t think of any way to explain it, not with rational logic anyway. In all her years studying photography, she had never come across something like this. If this had nothing to do with lighting, then it had to be something Dominic had done.
She wanted to laugh. There was no way someone could change their own eye color. She had heard about people with green eyes that sometimes looked like they had blue instead, or hazel eyes switching from brown to a dark green, under the right lighting, but never blue to gold. Gold wasn’t even natural. Not in humans.
When she looked back at the alley, Dominic was gone, vanished in the crowd or down the street. She wanted to shut her mind to this, pretend it never happened and delete the picture from her gallery, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She hadto know what this was, whether it was some weird light trick, or if this had anything to do with Dominic himself.
Trapped between the absurd and the inexplicable, Erica couldn’t believe that it did nothing to quell her feelings toward Dominic. She still felt as if her soul had become fused with his without conscious effort. All she knew was that her defenses weren’t strong enough anymore. Dominic had blasted through it all with just a look, a whisper, the feel of his lips almost brushing her ear, and his genuineness. Those small, simple things had snuck up on her in a moment of total weakness.
Erica couldn’t fall apart. She frantically tried to pick up the rubble and shove it all back in place before she lost herself completely to Dominic and those eyes.
Chapter Eight
The light fromthe streetlamps cast shadows over the antiques and knick-knacks inside Renewed Relics. Dominic stood by the locked door and stared into the assemblage of everything that had been collected in the last century since the shop had opened. The tiny porcelain faces of the figurines, dolls, and serene gazes from the paintings mocked him, telling him that he didn’t belong there anymore.
Something inside him began to stir, and it wasn’t his wolf. Ever since earlier that day when he saw Erica at her booth, talking with the people of Tolstone from his hiding place in the square, Dominic hadn’t felt the same. The obsession to be by her side had somehow evolved, shifted into a need more overwhelming than anything he had ever experienced. He had no right to feel this way, no logical reason to want to throw all of this away. The shop, the pack, his town, none of it mattered when those hazel eyes locked on his. He didn’t know what came over him, but he was too tired and in no mood to fight it anymore.
He shuffled lazily toward the very back of the shop. Each time he was free from Prime Alpha obligations that day, he told himself he would go back to see her, but something always came up. With Cole taking the day off, unresponsive to anyone within his pack or Dominic’s, he was stuck pulling double duty. An employer had a complaint, a repairman had to be called or met, a pack member was in some sort of trouble or fight.
He’d had enough. All he wanted was Erica. No more of this bullshit he couldn’t handle anymore.
Dominic made his way into the back library where he kept only the rarest books written by obscure authors who had been forgotten by time. Their novels, essays, and poems sat in the wall-to-wall bookcases. For all their words and prose, this was the quietest place in the store. Their leather-bound covers and pages muffled the outside noise, leaving this spot as his own sanctuary.
He eased himself into the blue, tufted wingback chair and allowed his tired muscles to rest. Not once had he sat down all day, and as impervious as shifters were to fatigue, Dominic felt the strain of the world wrap around his ankles. Even his wolf wanted to fall asleep in this chair and forget everything.
If only his mind could grant such a wish. He closed his eyes, immersed in the silence with only his heartbeat and the distant rumble of traffic outside the store. With each breath, the ache in his chest steadily grew. He gripped the arms of the chair, the smooth edges of the decorative nail heads beneath his fingertips.
He wondered what Erica was doing at that moment, and if the faint whiff of her arousal from earlier that day had meant anything at all. Was he looking for something that wasn’t there, or did they really share a connection? He had to know if this was all in his head.
Dominic fished out his phone from his jacket pocket and stared at the black screen, knowing that once he dialed her number, there was no turning back. After the day he had, the world could burn for all he cared.
He dialed the number he had memorized from her business card. With effort, he steadied his shaking breaths, brought the phone to his ear, and listened to the ringing, so loud in the stillness of the small library.
Four rings, and she answered.
“Erica Barrett.”
“Hey, it’s Dominic.” Something crashed on the other end of the line, and she whispered out a curse that made him smile. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she said slowly, “I just dropped my paintbrush.”
“Paintbrush?” Dominic’s eyes wandered along the edges of the books on the far wall.
“Yeah, I… I decided to paint the kitchen. I had some drop cloths down, so it didn’t get on the floor or anything. Even if it did, I was thinking of replacing the floor anyway.”
“Sounds like you’re really getting into this remodeling. The pipes, the walls, and now the floors. Will it even be the same kitchen once you’re done?”
Erica laughed, and he basked in the sound as if it were the warm summer sun and he had been in a snowy tundra all his life. “I think I’ll keep the counters. They’re easy to clean.”
“What else do you plan on doing to the house?” He shifted to get more comfortable in the chair.
She went on, listing the things she thought needed to be replaced, adjusted, or repaired. He had seen the state of the interior the other day and had to keep himself from mentioning all the repairmen he knew who could refinish wood flooring and mend peeling wallpaper.
Dominic understood now that if there was any way to wiggle his way into her heart, it was through letting her do things on her own. Erica prided herself on her sense of independence, no doubt something she’d learned from her mother. He promised himself that paying for the booth space and providing the tent was the last thing he would do for her. Now, she was on her own, and he hated the idea of that.
He wanted to offer whatever connections he had. He wanted to offer a hand in tearing up that linoleum flooring in the kitchen or replacing the upstairs bathroom sink. He wanted to give her money to buy more light bulbs for the foyer chandelier.He strove to keep his mouth shut while she talked, savoring the sound of her voice, even if she rambled a bit. He could have listened to her all night.
When she paused, Dominic’s heart ran away with him. “Would you like some company while you paint?”
