He shakes his head gently. “This is supposed to amplify our ability to empathize, giving us a greater chance at hearing each other.” He pulls one last crystal from the sack. “And finally, citrine.”
“Let me guess, for citrusy freshness?”
“No,” he says, scolding playfully. “For positivity.”
“Oh, right. What’s left?”
The last few items he pulls out at once: a stick of incense, which he lights on the fire and places between two rocks so it stands upright, and a bouquet of dried herbs. “Calamus to amplify our voices, blue vervain to clear our minds, and thyme—”
“For the roast chicken?”
He rolls his eyes. “Thyme to attract loyalty, love, and to increase our psychic powers.”
With a gentle wave he wafts the herb bouquet in the air around us then places it next to the rose quartz.
“You really went to town,” I say.
“I wanted to give us the best shot at linking.”
My stupid cynical heart melts. He’s done all this so that we can get closer. I should be less teasing and more focused.
“I’m sorry, I’m just not used to all this sort of stuff.”
“I know it’s a little out there,” he replies. “But if it helps, there’s some science to it—especially for us. The energy of the moon interacts with the crystals, which interacts with our brain waves and our connection to other wolves through pheromones, bloodlines, and our senses. The herbs are medicinal, just like the ones Agatha made that tea from that helped soothe your headaches.”
“The incense?”
Jasper shrugs. “That’s mostly just for atmosphere.”
“Thank you,” I say. “For going to all this trouble.”
“Max.” Jasper takes both my hands. “I want to make this work.”
I chew the inside of my lip for a moment, feeling just a little overwhelmed. Under the blanket of stars I feel small, like a speck of dust in an eternal desert. The fire is hot and bright and I’m surrounded by crystals and herbs. But in front of me is the most stupidly handsome guy, asking me to try and connect with him, to shorten the distance between us, and after everything we’ve been through I owe it to us to try.
“Me too,” I say. “Shall we?”
“Close your eyes.”
I do as Jasper says.
“Breathe.”
I fill my lungs and exhale slowly.
“Focus.”
I let my consciousness expand into the inky blackness, darker than the night sky.
“Reach out.”
Like a homing pigeon I plunge through the darkness, traversing it at neckbreaking speed, looking for a connection, for those red veins that represent the wolves of the world. Jasper’s presence looms like a warm haze before me, but for whatever reason I can’t find him in the void. Maybe it’s because we’re farther away from our pack or from wolves in general, but the darkness of my mind, usually crowded with veins, branching and crossing like an overgrown tree, is especially empty. There are no signs of red, just darkness.
Why can’t I find him? He’s sitting right in front of me. Shouldn’t I be able to find the thread of his consciousness and latch on to it? Shouldn’t I simply be able to reach out and speak to him? Why can’t I seem to connect to the person who means the most to me?
I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes together, concentrating harder, trying to push through the dense, dark fog. And I realize something isn’t right. How can there be no signs of wolf life at all? Yes we’re far away, but that shouldn’t matter. Back in New York I could sense wolves from across the country, even other countries—there was so much noise it was a constant battle to block it out—and now nothing, silence, not even the voice of my mate.
Something must be blocking me. I remember the positions of the crystals Jasper laid out and think about what he said, that they were channels through which we could access lunar energy. I focus on pulling that energy toward myself, let it flood into my body, and almost instantaneously, the fog begins to lift. My muscles are enlivened. My skin tingles. The veins of life fade in like lights on a dimmer switch slowly rising. The familiar fizzle and crack of energy arrives. And there before me is Jasper. He’s not just a warm blob, he’s a glowing light. At this close proximity his thread is no longer red, but a burning yellow, like the sun. I’m about to speak to him, to link our minds, when I feel a tug from behind me, and as I turn to see what it is, the familiar ear-piercing howl breaks through, and the feeling of something slamming into the side of my skull knocks me sideways.
