Chapter 9
Beau
Every day, my wolf is getting sicker.
I had a plan—
I’d stay with Savannah until she was earning enough to get her own little place.
The independence she always talks of. She doesn’t want my money.
I told her jokingly that I’ve got enough in the bank to support a whole harem of women.
Of course, it was a joke. Because the only one I want is her.
But she hated it. Her face went pale, and I felt like the biggest asshole in the universe.
I apologized until she forgave me. I wonder what else went on with her pack.
She’s not real forthcoming about it. I get the impression she’d rather not think about any of it again.
—If Savannah gets her own place—then what? I’ll watch her from a distance.
Let her take another mate?
Over my dead body, my wolf roars.
I thought if I didn’t touch her, it’d keep the beast in check.
But all this frustration seems to be making it worse.
It’s feral, aggressive. Whenever I lose focus, it tries to burst out of me, to take control.
And the only thing that scares me more than this is the thought of losing Savannah altogether.
One morning, I drop Savannah off at work. She’s quieter than usual, while most of my attention is going into keeping the beast in check. Trying hard not to notice how hot her ass looks, jiggling in her new skinny jeans.
I hold the door of the bar open for her, and half-way through, she stops and turns to me. Her sweet cherry lips are inches from my face, and that familiar wave of sweet-sick desire floods me. I long to dip my head and claim them. But right now, they’re pale and pinched at the edges.
“You don’t need to watch me today, Beau,” she tells me.
I frown. “Of course, I do.”
“I need to stand on my own two feet.”
A dart of unease pierces my chest. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I can’t spend my life being guarded.” Her lower lip trembles. “I want to work alone today.”
“But I need to keep you safe.”
“Beau, please.”
I study her a moment longer, trying to interpret the emotions at war in her eyes. I want to insist. Know I don’t have the right.
I exhale slowly. “Okay, then. I’ll come pick you up when you’re done.”
She shakes her head. “I’ll make my own way home, Beau.”
“It’s not safe—”
She lays her soft hand on my chest. “I can’t live like this.”
My head spins. “Being protected?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s what I mean.” She stalks through the door and disappears into the bar.
Automatically, I move to go after her. To my wolf, there’s an invisible leash that connects me to her. It can’t stand to be too far away.
But at the last second, I stop myself. There was something new in her expression, and I sense that if I push myself onto her right now, I’ll break her trust.
Instead, I turn around and reorient myself toward the little café on the opposite side of the street. Nothing wrong with watching her if she doesn’t know I’m there.
Inside, I grab a double Americano and settle myself into a seat by the window, which gives me a good view of Sinners’.
I open my laptop and try to focus on my work—investigating the offshore accounts of a political hopeful, but every couple of minutes, my eyes drift to the window.
I wonder what Savannah is doing right now.
If she’s happier than she was when I left her.
The thought turns like a screw in my chest. I want to make her the happiest person alive.
She deserves that and so much more, but I only seem to be making her sad.
Halfway through the morning, the door of the bar opens and my attention focuses in, like a heat-seeking missile.
A familiar figure exits, stalks across the street, and throws open the door of the café. In another second, she’s right by my table, elbows jutting out, beady eyes scrutinizing me like a worm she’s about to yank out of the earth.
“You’re not supposed to be here!” she shrills, planting her elbows on her bony hips.
I wince. “Good morning to you, too, Elinor.”
She wags her finger at me. “You’re not being very nice to my friend.”
I swallow hard. “What do you mean?”
“She’s sad. And I don’t like my friends to be sad.”
“I’m trying to protect her!”
Her birdy eyes narrow to little black slits. “Who from?”
I take a deep, ruminative breath. “Myself.”
“Yourself?” Her eyes bulge. “That’s crazy talk. Anyone can see she’s smitten with you.”
“She is?” My heart seems to skip a beat.
“Of course.”
“My wolf—” I break off, unsure how to explain.
Elinor bends at the waist and peers into my face. I push my wolf way down, as it’s longing to snap at her, and I hold still and let her do her thing.
Her eyelids flicker like an information processing device. “You struggle with it, huh?” she says at last.
I blink, surprised at this bird-brain’s perspicacity. “I do.”
“Better fix it.” She wags her finger at me again. “Or you’ll lose her forever.”
She turns on her heel and sasses her way out of the café.
I drop my head into my hands. I was trying to doing my best for Savannah, protecting her, keeping her safe, even as I fought all my instincts to take her, make her mine.
But all this time I’ve been hurting her. Kissing her, giving her orgasms, then refusing to mate her. Probably making her feel rejected again, which is the last thing I ever wanted.
I thought I was doing the right thing, but I’m starting to think I’ll hurt her less by being out of her life altogether.
Being away from her will kill me.
But I can’t stand for her to hurt anymore.
I push back my chair.
A moment later, I’m out the door, too.
I dash all the way back to Bertha. Then I grab a notepad, scrawl out a note.
Savannah, I need to go away on a job for a couple of days.
I’ll be back soon—
I hesitate. Because the truth is, I might not be back. I might fall into a place so dark there’s no way out. Instead, I write:
Bertha is yours now. Please make her your home.
Stay safe.
My hand trembles at the last bit:
All my love,
Beau.
Before I can change my mind, I tape it to the door, jump onto my bike, and roar off. And I don’t look back, because if I did, I wouldn’t be able to leave.
Elinor was right. I can’t go on like this anymore.
My animal is so close to the surface the whole time, I feel like a million fire ants are crawling over my skin.
It’s all I can do to keep it under control.
It needs a release. But I’m terrified that once it’s out, it might not go back in again.
The memory of the sickness, of those two years of pain and grieving while I was trapped in its wolf form, washes through me yet again.
I know what I’m risking. There’s a good chance I won’t make it back.
But Savannah is worth every bit of pain and suffering.
And if I don’t do this, I’ll lose her altogether.
On the way, I pull over, message Meredith and ask her to keep an eye on Savannah.
She’ll be safe in the town. I’ve prowled every inch of it, shown every asshole—shifter and human alike—that she’s under my protection.
She messages me right back:
Do what you need to. But you better come back
A wry smile tugs at my lips. If I’m not around to watch Savannah, she’s the next best thing. She’s a wise bear; she understands how screwed up some of us are.
A half hour later, I arrive at my destination. I ride in, as deep as I can. And then I strip off and release my wolf.
And I pray this isn’t the last time I’ll know my human form.