Chapter 8 Julian
EIGHT
JULIAN
I opened my eyes and shut them again. Where was I?
I studied the unfamiliar curtains and the other side of the huge bed. It was empty and my clothes from last night were scattered over the floor.
I was at Renard’s house and in his bed. But he wasn’t beside me with a leg thrown over my hip greeting me with a cup of coffee. The sheets on Renard's side were cool to the touch so I guessed he wasn’t in the bathroom.
Had last night been too much? Did he regret us having sex and he’d left his own home? If he’d done a runner, there was little I could do until he returned and I confronted him, so I got up and pulled on my pants.
The soothing sound of trickling water drifted through the window and I assumed Renard had a water feature in the garden. I hadn’t taken much notice of his house last night but his spacious bedroom overlooked what appeared to be woods behind the house.
"Renard?"
The bathroom was empty and so was the kitchen, living room and the small home office I passed. The house was silent except for the sound of birds outside. But the back door was ajar. And on the bench beside it, were Renard's pants from last night.
Oh, nice. Was he jogging in the woods? Renard, Mr. Serious Goalie, naked in nature? I grinned. Who was this guy? The idea of joining him was too tempting to resist.
I stripped off my pants and stepped into the cool morning air. A path led from the back door through the grass and into the trees. The gentle burble of a stream tripping over rocks was somewhere up ahead. Maybe he was skinny-dipping.
Sunlight shone through the leaves, painting everything in shades of gold and green. The air smelled of pine, earth and morning dew. My bare feet padded over the soft ground and the moss cushioned each step.
I was grinning like an idiot, already imagining Renard's face when I surprised him. Maybe I'd sneak up behind him in the water and wrap my arms around his waist. Or we could pick up where we'd left off last night, but this time surrounded by trees and birdsong instead of his bedroom.
The sound of the stream grew louder. Through the trees ahead, sunlight glinted off the water. I stepped into a small clearing, and my smile died.
There was a wolf in the stream.
My dog walker training kicked in immediately.
Stay calm. Don't run. Back away slowly. The wolf was massive, easily twice the size of any dog I'd walked, with dark fur that gleamed in the morning light.
It stood in the shallow water, absolutely still, watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
"Easy." I kept my voice low and non-threatening. "I'm not going to hurt you."
The wolf ears pricked. Its eyes were an unusual gray color that were familiar but my brain was running riot because that was impossible. I'd never seen this animal before.
"You're fine." I took a careful step backward. My pulse was racing and jumping hurdles, but I kept my movements slow and deliberate. "And very well-behaved for a wild animal. Good boy. I’m going to leave you alone now."
The wolf whined. It was a high, distressed sound that didn't match its size.
Then it started to do something that my brain couldn’t process.
I watched in horror as the wolf's form rippled as if I’d thrown a stone in the water.
The front legs buckled, and where there had been paws, human hands emerged along with fingers and joints, knuckles and skin.
The transformation spread up the limbs and the dark fur receded to reveal muscular forearms and shoulders.
The hind legs followed as the wolf's haunches reshaped into human thighs and calves. But it was the face that had me frozen in fear.
The muzzle began to shorten, but it didn't complete the transition. It was caught halfway and still covered in patches of fur, but with human features emerging beneath. The eyes were too large and the mouth was neither snout nor human lips. And the teeth? I imagined them ripping through my flesh.
The animal or whatever it was now made a sound. It wasn’t a howl or a word but something desperate and broken that came from a throat caught between two forms. I couldn't move. My brain couldn’t fathom what I was seeing. This wasn't possible and it couldn't be real.
But the transformation completed and oh gods, no. It was Renard. He was naked in the stream and his expression could only be described as stricken.
"Julian."
I ran back through the woods and ignored the branches catching at my bare skin. My feet hit the hardwood floor and the temperature shift from cool morning air to heated house barely registered. Grabbing my pants, I raced through the house searching for the front door.
The rest of my clothes were somewhere. I’d seen them when I woke up. But I wasn’t detouring into the bedroom and I tore outside bare-chested, ignoring my shoes beside the door.
"Julian, wait." Renard's voice came from somewhere behind me.
I couldn't look at him. If I looked at him, I'd see that again. The cross between an animal and a human. I gulped as I pictured that impossible, nightmare thing.
"Stay away from me." I could hardly get the words out.
"Just let me explain. Five minutes is all I'm asking."
"You're—" I couldn't say it. "What are you?"
"I'm a shifter. A wolf shifter. I was going to tell you, I just needed time."
"A shifter." Did I know what that was? "Those aren't real. They're not real."
"Julian."
"Don't." I finally looked at him. He'd pulled on pants but was still shirtless with water dripping from his hair. He looked exactly how he had last night. He was the man I'd kissed, touched and fucked. "Don't come near me."
His eyes were awash with tears and he couldn’t disguise the raw pain on his face. "Please. I never wanted you to find out like this."
"Find out?" My voice was edging toward hysterical. "Find out that you're some kind of—that you can—" I couldn't get the car keys out of my pocket. My hands kept fumbling with the fabric.
"I'm still the same person."
"No." I backed toward the door, finally getting hold of the keys. "No, you're not. I don't even know what you are."
"I'm someone who cares about you. That hasn't changed."
"Everything has changed!" I gripped the keys so hard the metal bit into my palm. "You're not human." My breath was too fast and shallow and I was going to hyperventilate. "I need to leave."
"Where are you going?"
"Away." I yanked open the car door. "Don't follow me. Don't call. Just stay away."
The keys slipped from my fingers twice before I got them in the ignition while Renard stood shirtless in his doorway.
I couldn't think about him or the pain in his eyes or how desperately he'd said my name. Because if I did, I'd remember the way his body had changed when the wolf became human that defied everything I thought I knew about the world.
I had no idea where I was going as long as it was away from Renard and his woods and his impossible secret.
My phone rang and it was Renard's name on the screen. I let it go to voicemail but it rang again. And again. And again until I turned it off.
At some point, I realized I was heading toward Marshall's apartment. I needed to talk to someone and for them to tell me I hadn't lost my mind.
But what would I say? "Hey, remember that hot goalie I've been seeing? He turns into a literal wolf."
My hands wouldn't stop shaking on the steering wheel. I couldn't hold it properly and kept having to adjust my grip.
The memory of last night swerved back into my memory. He'd touched me and kissed me as if I was the love of his life. I was furious more with myself for ignoring when he'd said relationships were complicated for him.
There's a whole part of my life you'd have to be patient about.
He'd tried to warn me. I'd thought he meant his career and the associated fame, not that he could turn into a wolf.
I pulled over in some random parking lot and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. I tried to get air into my lungs but my chest hurt with each breath.
What the heck was I supposed to do now?
The wolf's eyes had been gray like Renard's eyes. I'd seen that and hadn't understood. When he was caught between forms with the wrong face and desperate sound. And afterward, there was Renard standing in the stream devastated.
I'm still the same person.
But how could he be?
I sat in that parking lot for ages, staring at nothing and trying to figure out the impossible. Renard could turn into a wolf. He was a shifter and I'd run from him as if he was a monster.
I drove to Marshall’s because where else was I supposed to go. He opened his door in sweats with a half-eaten bowl of cereal and his expression went from confused to alarmed.
"Julian? Are you hurt?"
How could I explain what I'd seen without sounding bonkers? My guy turned into a wolf this morning. Not a metaphor. An actual wolf.
"Come in. Sit down." He pulled me inside. "You're shaking. Talk to me."
"I can't." My voice sounded far away. "I found out something about Renard and I can't tell you what it is."
"Did he hurt you?"
"No. It's not that."
Marshall sat beside me, but didn't push. That was the thing about Marshall. He always knew when to stop asking. He made me tea while I stared at the wall, and when I said I needed to go, he walked me to the door.
"Whatever it is, you don't have to figure it out today." He squeezed my arm. "Call me tomorrow."
I wouldn't. Not because I didn't want to, but because every conversation about Renard now had a wall through the middle of it. The truth on one side, Marshall on the other, and me stuck between them.