Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CARTER
She’s been here. I can smell her.
“I know, but it doesn’t look like she’s here anymore.
Her tracks stop cold right outside the store,” I grumble, pacing the grocery aisles, shading my eyes against the too-bright overhead lights.
I hadn’t slept all night, patrolling outside Rose’s house with the scent of her ex fresh on the doors and windows.
She said the place was warded, but I wasn’t taking chances.
Not after that stunt he pulled yesterday.
We should bite his head off for even thinking of our Rosemary. She’s ours.
“We don’t have time to go hunting.” Yet. If he tried anything else, I wasn’t holding back.
What we need is—
“If you’re about to say what I think you are, keep it to yourself. Rose needs time.”
She needs us. She wants us. You’re a fool to ignore how she responds to our touch.
“I’m very aware. But in case you’ve forgotten, we’re here to find a missing wolf pup. So start thinking with your head, not—”
Find the girl, send her back to the pack, then pursue our mate. Roger that.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” I stare at the photo of Alexandria until my vision blurs. After seeing Rose safely to work, I’d gone back to the hotel and managed a fitful nap. Nights on guard duty and days full of micronaps were wearing thin. “Where are you?”
Carter.
The tug at my core pulses, but I shove it down and scroll through my messages again, checking for clues I might’ve missed.
Carter.
“I know—we need food, sleep, and her. But first we need answers.” I probably look like an idiot, standing here in front of a wall of chips staring at my phone.
“Carter?” A warm hand brushes my forearm. I glance up into ocean blue-green eyes. Rosemary’s eyes.
“Rose? What are you doing here?” My brows furrow, and I flick my wrist out of habit to check the time, even though every screen in the world now shouts the hour. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“It’s half-past five. I stopped for groceries. Is everything alright? You look like a zombie.”
“Half-past five,” I echo, rubbing a hand over my face. How long had I been standing here dazed? “Zombies don’t exist…”
Her lips twitch. “Witches, werewolves, and vampires exist—but you draw the line at zombies?”
“Have you ever seen one outside a movie?”
“No. But just because I haven’t doesn’t mean they’re not real.” She eyes my basket. “So why are you here? Can’t decide between extra cheese or salt and vinegar?”
“I just… lost track of time. Tracked the girl’s scent to this store, but it went cold again.” I flash her the newest photo of Alexandria in a bright yellow sundress.
“Wait. I’ve seen that dress.” She bites her bottom lip, tapping her foot.
“On the girl?”
“No—on a mannequin. Recently. Somewhere in town.” She leans close, zooming in on the photo, her scent wrapping around me until my wolf hums. “But I can’t recall which store.”
“How many clothing shops are in this town?” I mutter, resisting the urge to nuzzle her temple.
“Well, there’s Alfred’s on 39th, Elise’s Boutique, Fernando’s…” She ticks off names on her fingers.
“Okay, there’s a lot—I get it. But I don’t have time to hit every store.”
“Well, maybe we could tag-team?”
“Neither of us can waste a whole day wandering stores. What we need is a lead.” My thumb hovers over my brother’s contact before I accidentally hit call.
She’s hinting she wants time with us, idiot.
I glance up, catching the flicker of disappointment in her face before she masks it with a forced smile. The phone rings. Too late.
“Carter, good to hear from you. Any luck?” Connor’s voice cuts through the line.
Rose turns away, her basket swinging at her side as she studies the wall of chips.
“That’s why I’m calling. The trail’s gone cold—”
“You know what can happen—”
“I know,” I snap, dragging a hand through my hair.
“You never call for help,” he says dryly. “You’re such a stubborn ass, you must really need it. What’s the magic word?”
“I don’t have time for games,” I growl, my eyes fixed on Rose watching me from the corner of her eye.
“Nope. Don’t recall those being it. Try again.”
“Connor, this isn’t the time—”
“How’s the witch?” His smirk all but crackles through the speaker. He’s spent the last year needling me to move on, while I buried myself in work. Anything to forget that weekend. Anything but her.
“Fine. Please.”
“Send me what you’ve got. Good luck.” The line clicks off without so much as a goodbye. I forward the photos, updates, and a note for him to dig into Rose’s ex.
Purely for her safety. Not because we want to rip him to pieces.
“Any luck?” Rose asks.
“Connor’s on it. Though I doubt he’ll find more than I have.”
“Hopefully he does. I worry about her, and I don’t even know her.” She slumps, gaze dropping.
“You worry about everyone, kitten.” I tip her chin up, her soft skin stark against my rough calluses. “You give too much, feel too deep, and never expect anything in return.”
And you love too hard.
She holds my gaze, her tongue flicking over her bottom lip.
Tell her about the bond. Mark her. Make her ours.
“Rose—”
“What are your plans for dinner? Looked like rain on my drive over.”
“Dinner?”
“Yes, dinner. That meal you eat in the evening? Don’t tell me werewolves skip it. How else do you grow so big, strong, and handsome?” She pinches my bicep.
“You think I’m big, strong, and handsome?” I lean in, caging her against the shelf.
“That’s… ah.” Her pupils blow wide, pulse fluttering at her throat. “I was just teasing.”
“About inviting me to dinner—or my size?” I lift a brow, savoring the way she squirms.
She ducks under my arm and points down the aisle. “I’m no chef, but this place has the best freezer lasagna. And blueberry cheesecake.”
An hour later, we’re sitting across from each other in her living room, Ginger purring at my feet.
“You weren’t kidding. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d made that lasagna from scratch.”
“Well, adding extra cheese on top helps,” she says, blushing as she gathers the plates and sets them in the sink.
“Here, let me. You did the hard work of cooking.” I take the sponge and quickly wash the dishes, stacking them neatly in the drying rack.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Of course I do. I may be a guest, but cleaning up after myself is the least I can do. Besides, if I didn’t clean up at my place, I’d be overrun with strays.” I chuckle, scratching Ginger’s head. The little furball closes his eyes and purrs louder. I don’t usually like cats, but he’s growing on me.
You’re laying it on a little heavy. Just kiss her already.
“What are your plans once you find the girl?” Rose asks.
I straighten, meeting her gaze. “I’m not quite sure.”
“What do you mean you’re not sure?”
“Well… I was thinking about traveling. My duty to the clan has lightened significantly.”
Her hand stills over the kettle on the stove. “Travel sounds like fun. Ouch!” She jerks back, jamming her finger into her mouth.
“What happened?” I’m at her side in a heartbeat.
“It’s nothing. I just brushed the kettle,” she mumbles around her finger.
“Come here. Cold water helps,” I murmur, taking her wrist. I lift her hand and inspect the reddened tip. “Doesn’t look too—”
My mouth goes dry. Beneath her usual berry-and-cream scent lingers another: wolf shifter. I bring her wrist closer, inhaling.
“Carter.” She giggles, tugging against my hold. “That tickles.”
“You found her.”
I drop her hand and spin her around the small kitchen, too elated to stop myself.
“What?” she says breathlessly, bracing her palms on my forearm when I set her down.
“I thought I smelled her earlier when I ran into you, but dismissed it as a lingering trace. It’s stronger now. She’s been near you.”
“The girl?” Her jaw drops, then she slaps her forehead, cursing as she clips the injured finger.
“Here.” I grab an ice cube from the freezer, wrap it in a paper towel, and cradle her hand between mine. “You need to be more careful.”
“You don’t need to keep rescuing me.”
“I’ll always be here for you.”
Thunder cracks outside, rattling the windowpanes. Rose jumps, glancing at the front door.
“It’s just a storm,” I reassure her. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little thunder?”
“No, I’m not afraid.” She crosses her arms and purses her lips, but her eyes keep darting toward the glass.
“What are you afraid of?” I tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“N-nothing.” She turns briskly to the stove. “Tea?”
“Why don’t you sit down? I’ll check the perimeter before the rain hits.” I guide her gently toward the couch. “Then we’ll talk about why you smell like a dog.”
“I do not smell like—” She whirls, eyes wide, cheeks blazing pink as she sniffs at her blouse.
“Relax. I was joking. Well, about you personally smelling like a dog. You smell incredible as always. But there’s another scent clinging to you,” I say.
“Then what are you talking about?” Her brows knit. “It’s not very nice to tell someone they smell and then leave them hanging.”
“Sit tight. I’ll explain in a moment.” I give her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. She scowls but sinks onto the couch, waving me toward the door.
Outside, the sky’s gone a deep, storm-bruised maroon. I shift, dropping onto all fours, power humming through my limbs as my wolf takes over. The neighbors might panic at a giant wolf prowling the block, but with the storm rolling in, most are tucked safe inside.
I circle the house quickly, but nothing seems amiss. No fresh trace of her ex, no disturbances beyond the steady rumble of the storm rolling in.
Then I the round the corner—and the sky splits open. Rain pelts down in sheets, drenching my fur in seconds.
Great.
“Carter?” Rose’s voice drifts into the night, soft and sweet, pulling me back. She stands framed in the doorway, kitchen light at her back, a silhouette of beauty against the storm.
Silent on padded feet, I prowl toward her. She startles, hand flying to her chest until her gaze sharpens on me.
“What are you doing? You’re soaking wet—get inside,” she hisses, pulling the door wider.
I brush past her, water dripping onto the tile from my fur.
“Why are you in your wolven form? Did you find something?” she asks, twisting the hem of her shirt between her fingers. Ginger pads out of the living room, sniffs the humid air, then prances back as his paw splashes in the cold puddle forming on the tile.
Rose extends her hand, and I lift my elongated snout to her wrist, inhaling deeply. Young female wolf shifter. It had to be her. I will my body to shift back, magical reserves draining at the sudden double change. I’ll need to load up on protein soon.
“Sorry. My senses are sharper as a wolf, especially my ability to sense magic,” I explain, swiping wet hair out of my eyes. “And I can move faster.”
“Stop skirting around the subject and just tell me what’s going on.” She plants her hands on her hips, eyes sparking, and it takes everything in me not to grab her sassy little frame and kiss her senseless.
“Why don’t you start by telling me why you smell like a wolf shifter?” I shoot back.
Her brow furrows. “Wolf shifter?” She doesn’t blink, staring me straight in the eye.
“Yes.” I step closer, lowering my voice “A female shifter, in particular.”
Her gaze finally breaks, dropping to the floor as her toe scuffs against the tile. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but… they interviewed a new girl to train at the event center.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” The words come out sharper than I intend, but the thought of her keeping this from me claws at my chest.
“I didn’t want to get your hopes up!” she snaps, chin lifting defiantly. But it cuts more than soothes.
“You can’t just keep things from me, Rose,” I growl, pacing a step away. Water drips down my temple, my clothes plastered to me, heavy and cold. I rake a rough hand through my soaked hair.
When I spin back toward her, chest heaving, she’s… staring.
Mouth parted. Eyes wide. Like she’s forgotten what we’re arguing about entirely.
“What?” I demand, glancing down at myself. Nothing’s out of place—except that I’m standing in her kitchen, drenched, shirt plastered to every muscle, jeans leaving little to the imagination.
“Rose?” I tilt my head, trying to read her.
She clears her throat, gaze darting anywhere but my chest.
“I—uh—I didn’t mean to lose my temper,” I say quietly, trying to ease the tension. “Maybe I should go back to the hotel.”
“No!” The word bursts out of her before I can take a step. She presses a hand flat against my chest, and fire races through my veins at the contact.
My wolf strains forward, demanding more.
“You’re soaking wet,” she murmurs, softer now, all the fight gone from her voice. “It’s pouring outside. You’ll get sick if you stay like this.”
“I’ll be fine,” I reply, though my voice roughens when her hand lingers. “I’ve endured worse.”
“I didn’t mean to hide what I found out today from you,” she says. “I don’t want to argue with you, Carter. Not over this. Not when we…”
Thunder cracks and she flinches, eyes flicking to the window again. Her lips press together, thoughtful, before she gestures vaguely at me from head to toe.
“I don’t want to fight either. I understand your reasoning, even if I don’t agree with it.” I tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose from her bun. “I’ll stay—but only if you want me to. First, I need to get out of these wet clothes, so I don’t drip all over your house.”
“I don’t exactly have clothes that would fit you,” she admits, cheeks flushing.
Her gaze lingers a second too long over the outline of my torso.
I nearly smirk, realizing my wet jeans leave nothing hidden.
“But… you could wrap up in one of my oversized bath towels while your clothes dry in the dryer.”
Bath towels. She’s seen you in less.
“Works for me.” I shrug, peeling the wet cotton shirt over my head, fully aware of the show I’m giving her.
She swallows, voice low, her eyes never leaving my chest. “And maybe… we could watch a movie.”
“I’d like that,” I murmur, squeezing her small hand in mine.
Which is how I end up with my mate curled against my bare chest, a storm raging outside, her breathing slow and steady in sleep. Only a fluffy blue towel between us. And the dangerous truth that if she wakes, I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to keep my hands off her.