The noise in my head was still there, still circling and refusing to settle.
I took a breath, and let the shift start. It came easily, like it always did. Bones and muscle reorganized themselves, fur sprouted all over my body.
My wolf stretched out fully as the last of human thought settled into the background. Even then, Seth didn’t leave my thoughts. That was annoying.
A low huff left me as I shook out my fur, testing my footing against the grass. I bolted toward the trees behind the house.
The forest opened up quickly, familiar paths threading between tall trunks and shifting light. I ran hard at first, pushing speed into my legs, letting instinct take over where thinking had been getting in the way.
Wind rushed through my fur, and ground blurred beneath me. For a few minutes, it helped. The rhythm of movement. The pull of muscles. The sharp focus of trail and scent and distance.
There was nothing to analyze, or decide. Only the run mattered, but even as my pace evened out, the problem stayed. Seth was still there.
I tried to push harder with longer strides and faster bursts.
The forest opened into a wider stretch and I sprinted through it, letting the burn in my limbs take over, hoping it would drown out everything else.
It didn’t. Every time my mind went quiet for half a second, it filled itself right back up with him.
I pictured Seth laughing at something in the café, Seth looking at me across a table like I was something he was still figuring out. I imagined Seth asleep against my chest.
I slowed eventually, breath heavier now, coming to a stop near a break in the trees where sunlight spilled down in wide, lazy patches. My chest rose and fell steadily.
I stood there for a long moment, listening, and waiting for the run to fix something.
The silence around me only made my thoughts louder again. I exhaled slowly through my nose, lowering my head slightly. I’d come out here thinking I needed space from Seth.
What I was starting to realize, standing alone in the forest with my wolf finally quiet enough to admit it, was that space wasn’t the problem.
Distance wasn’t the solution, and pretending I didn’t want something more between us wasn’t clearing my head. It was just making everything harder to ignore.
15
SETH
Iwas wiping down one of the tables near the window, moving through the familiar rhythm of closing duties, when the flyer on the community board caught my attention again.
The Oakridge Harvest Market.
Oakridge sat about forty minutes away, far enough that most people made a day of it rather than a quick trip. The flyer promised the usual mix of local food stalls, live music, baking competitions, and a coffee showcase featuring cafés from surrounding towns.
It wasn’t something I would normally have looked at twice, but I found myself staring at it a little longer than necessary before finally reaching up and pulling it free from the board.
I crossed to the counter where Janine was working, catching her attention as I got closer.
“Do you have plans next Saturday?” I asked.
She looked up immediately, suspicion already setting in. “Is this a work question?”
“No,” I said too quickly, which only made her expression sharper.
I held the flyer up between us. “Oakridge is doing their annual harvest market thing. There’s a coffee showcase this year too.”
Janine looked like she was trying to figure out if I was serious.
“You want to go to a town festival?”
“I just thought it looked fun.”
