Chapter 9
Macy stood outside waiting for Kaelen. She wasn’t waiting for his Werewolf because to her, they were one and the same. She didn’t see Kaelen as a monster and hoped to steer him in the direction of seeing that also.
All Shifters had issues when they first began to shift, but most Shifters had someone to talk them through it. She had her parents. From what she had learned, Kaelen had no one.
It angered her, the way the world had twisted the image of his kind.
Hollyweird, her mocking name for Hollywood, had portrayed werewolves as feral beasts, bloodthirsty, cursed creatures that prowled in shadows.
It wasn’t true. Not to her. Shifters were still human, flesh and blood, with hearts that broke and healed the same as anyone else.
The only difference was their ability to become something more.
To her, that wasn’t frightening. It was extraordinary.
It made them rare, powerful, and special.
Kaelen was a huge man, which could be pretty intimidating.
His face, handsome with its rugged lines, carried an expression that warned strangers to keep their distance.
That permanent scowl, that hard-set jaw…
it gave him the look of a man not to be messed with.
But Macy had seen past it. She’d seen the flashes of humor, the gentleness he didn’t think anyone noticed.
She had definitely noticed when he carried her to safety.
What hurt her heart the most was the quiet pain she knew he tried to bury.
In the short time she had been around him, when his guard slipped, she saw not a monster, but a man who deserved to believe he was more than what others saw him as...a monster, but a man worthy of respect and love. Everyone deserved that.
The door opening took her away from her thoughts.
Kaelen’s Werewolf stopped staring down at her.
As she stared at him, Macy saw none of the horror stories Hollyweird spun.
He was massive and powerful, with a presence that could be terrifying, but instead of fear, it sparked awe in her.
His fur was thick, dark, and untamed, catching the moonlight like shadows woven into silk.
His golden eyes glowed fiercely, intelligently, and heartbreakingly lonely.
The same eyes she knew so well when he was in human form.
The world might have called him dangerous, but to her, he was. ..a lost soul like her.
“Are you going to stand on the porch all night?” Macy asked with a half grin as she held her hand out to him. “Come here.”
Even in that formidable shape, with teeth sharp enough to end her in a heartbeat, she didn’t flinch. She never would because she didn’t see claws and fangs. She saw beyond that. She saw Kaelen. A man who had survived so much, shouldered too much, and still stood.
Kaelen loomed before her, his massive frame blocking out half the night sky. Broad shoulders hunched, claws flexing at his sides, golden eyes burning down at her. Anyone else would have bolted. But Macy didn’t see a monster; she saw him.
She tilted her head, studying the tension carved into his features. “Do you want to hurt me?” Her voice was calm and straightforward.
His chest rumbled with a low growl, but he shook his head slowly, like the movement weighed a ton. His gaze never left hers.
“That’s good,” she whispered, taking a step closer.
When she lifted her hand toward him, Kaelen jerked back, the ground shuddering under his retreat. Macy frowned, undeterred, and closed the space again. He stepped away once more, and her lips pressed into a stubborn line.
“Kaelen,” she said firmly, “you have to trust him. You are in control, not him.”
Before he could retreat again, Macy lunged forward, catching his enormous hand in hers. His claws dwarfed her fingers, sharp and dangerous, but she only squeezed tighter and tugged him toward the picnic table as if dragging a reluctant man instead of a hulking Werewolf.
She climbed up onto the tabletop, boots thudding against the wood, and stood facing him. Now their eyes were level, and she grinned, playful and defiant. “It’s killing my neck looking up at you.”
For a beat, he just stared at her, chest heaving with confusion etched into his sharp, inhuman features. Macy held that gaze without flinching, her hand still wrapped around his.
She held his gaze and really looked at him.
Then her eyes shifted to the ridges of his sharpened cheekbones, the long line of his jaw now framed in thick fur, the twitch of ears that lay flat against his head.
His chest was broad and barrel-like, but it rose and fell in the same rhythm she’d felt when he’d carried her.
And his eyes—God, his eyes—still held the same stormy depth, the same flicker of doubt. ..the same Kaelen she knew.
“I’m going to touch you,” She warned him softly. When he shook his head, she frowned. “Trust him, Kaelen, and trust me.”
After what seemed like forever, Kaelen’s massive head dipped slightly, just enough to let her hand rest on his cheek.
He flinched, but didn’t pull away. His eyes, still golden and wild, softened, and Macy felt the faint tremor.
She wondered if anyone had ever touched him when he was in his Werewolf form.
She tilted her head, smiling gently as she continued to touch him.
His jaw flexed under her fingers, and he became tense.
She slowed her exploration, allowing him to get accustomed to her touch.
Then, slowly, cautiously, he let his shoulders relax, the rigid lines of his posture softening just a fraction.
It was such a small gesture, but to Macy it was a monumental moment.
It was a trust not only between her and him, but a trust between Kaelen and his Werewolf.
Slowly, Macy wrapped her arms around his thick neck, holding him close. He smelled wild and earthy, yet unmistakably Kaelen. His scent was raw and magnetic, one she was already growing accustomed to.
“You’re not cursed,” she whispered, her voice firm against the rumble of his chest. “You’re a Shifter. That’s all. You are not a monster. You are Kaelen.”
Her hands lingered on his shoulders and along his neck, feeling the taut strength beneath the fur.
He didn’t flinch or recoil; he simply allowed her touch, steady and solid.
She wanted him to return the hug, but wouldn’t force.
Disappointment started to creep in, but then his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close.
Not tentative, not shy, but strong and protective.
They stayed that way for a moment, the world shrinking until there was only the heat of his body and the steady beat of his heart against hers. When he finally began to pull back, Macy let him, but her gaze stayed fixed on him.
Kaelen’s large, clawed hand lifted, brushing across her cheek with a precision that was almost startling—soft, but undeniably commanding. His golden eyes studied her face with something more than curiosity. She felt the intensity, focus, and a measure of respect in his touch.
“Soft,” he rumbled, his voice deep, gravelly, and unyielding, shaped by fangs and power, but filled with unmistakable awareness of her.
Macy leaned into the touch, her smile steady. Her eyes never left his.
He dropped his hand with the same controlled ease he carried in every movement, then glanced toward the cabin. She could see the edge of restraint, the pull to shift back.
“Go ahead,” she said, then started to step down off the table. Before she could move completely, he reached out, lifting her lightly and setting her firmly on her feet with a strength that left no doubt he could crush her in an instant, but chose not to.
“Thank you,” she said softly, meeting his unflinching gaze. He gave a brief nod, a single acknowledgment of understanding, before turning and striding toward the cabin.
Macy raised a hand to her cheek, feeling the lingering heat of his touch and the memory of his claws brushing against her skin.
A smile curved her lips as she settled on the edge of the table, resting her chin on her fists.
The woods whispered around her as the morning stirred, the animals greeting the dawn.
She closed her eyes, letting herself exhale.
Never in a million years had she imagined a Werewolf would be standing in her cabin, and she hadn’t feared him for a second.
Kaelen’s Werewolf wasn’t a monster. It was him.
..raw, powerful, and undeniably Kaelen. Just as Crow was a part of her, inseparable and true, his Werewolf was a part of him.
Each stood fully as themselves, yet together with their Shift, they were stronger and complete in a way that neither could be alone.
Kaelen needed his Werewolf just like she needed her Crow. Without them, they would die.
She laughed softly to herself, shaking her head as a tear slipped down her cheek. “Yeah… I’m tired,” she whispered, but her smile faded at the thought of Kaelen dying because he couldn’t live with his Werewolf. What a tragedy that would be. She refused to let that happen.