Chapter Ten
Mitch
As we cruise down Moonshadow Avenue, the heart of our little slice of paradise, I drink in the sights and sounds with a newfound sense of discovery.
“What is this place?” Sarah murmurs, her eyes wide with awe and bewilderment as she takes in the eclectic array of buildings—buildings I take for granted having looked at them for years.
A slow smile tugs at the corners of my lips, and I can’t resist the urge to reach across the console and give her hand a gentle squeeze. “Welcome to the heart of Willowbrook.”
As we roll to a stop at the intersection, I gesture toward the first shop, a charming little apothecary nestled between a bakery and a jeweler’s storefront. “That’s the Herb and Potion Emporium. They specialize in all sorts of natural remedies and...specialty items.”
Sarah’s brow crumples, and I see the wheels turning as she processes the unusual name. But before she can voice her curiosity, I’m guiding the cruiser onwards, my gaze roaming over the next shop.
“Fur Fang Outfitters,” I continue, nodding at the rustic storefront with its display of rugged outdoor gear and accessories. “They cater to a very niche clientele.”
This time, Sarah doesn’t bother trying to hide her confusion, her head swiveling to fix me with an incredulous look. “Niche clientele?” she echoes, her tone laced with challenge. “Mitch, what exactly is going on here?”
A low chuckle rumbles in my chest, and I shake my head, unable to resist the urge to tease her just a little. “All in good time, Sarah. There are secrets here only those who live here can know.”
She lets out a soft huff of laughter and turns her attention back to the scenery unfolding before us, completely unaware I wasn’t joking.
“Fine, keep your mysteries. But you’d better be prepared to spill everything eventually, Sheriff,” she concedes.
The endearment rolls off her tongue with a familiarity that sends a surge of possessive satisfaction coursing through my veins. I feel her ease slide through the bond. The way the discomfort of before has vanished in place of something more settled. The bond is strengthening and it makes my heart light.
With a grin, I guide the cruiser onwards, pointing out each unique shop and business as we drive past. The Moonlit Bookstore, with its dusty tomes and arcane volumes. The Paws N’ Claws Pet Emporium, catering to the furry companions that roam our streets with unbridled freedom.
Sarah drinks it all in, her expression a kaleidoscope of emotions–wonder, curiosity, and just a hint of trepidation all vying for dominance. Finally, we reach the sprawling, fortress-like structure that serves as the central hub for our community. The Pack House, as it’s known, looms before us, its imposing walls and sturdy battlements a testament to the strength and resilience of our kind.
“This is where the true heart of Willowbrook resides. It’s a place of coming together as a…township…to celebrate our traditions and honor our roots,” I say.
And where I hold pack meetings and make decrees that affect the thousands of people who live in my packlands.
Sarah’s gaze is transfixed, her lips parted in a soft ‘o’ of wonder as she takes in the majesty of the Pack House. She shoots me a sidelong glance, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “The names of these shops...” she begins, her tone laced with a hint of curiosity. “The Herb and Potion Emporium, Fur Fang Outfitters, Paws N’ Claws Pet Emporium...” She ticks off each establishment, her gaze growing more thoughtful with each passing syllable. “And then there’s that massive building you called the Pack House. Is there some sort of wolf theme going on here? Some kind of inside joke that I’m missing out on?”
For a brief moment, I consider deflecting, offering up some half-truth or vague explanation to keep the mystery alive. But something in Sarah’s expression, that insatiable curiosity and thirst for understanding, has me reconsidering. Perhaps it’s time to start peeling back the layers.
“The wolf holds a special significance here in Willowbrook,” I say.
Her brow knits. “What do you mean? Are you trying to tell me that this town is full of...wolf enthusiasts or something?”
A slow grin tugs at the corners of my lips, and I shake my head in quiet amusement. “Let’s just say that the wolf is more than just a symbol or a mascot around these parts. It’s a part of our very essence, woven into the fabric of who we are.”
Sarah regards me for a long moment, her boundless eyes searching mine for any hint of deception or jest. But she finds none, only the quiet certainty that radiates from my every pore as Alpha.
She lets out a soft huff of laughter and shakes her head in bemusement. “You’re certainly full of surprises, Sheriff,” she murmurs.
She has no idea.
Not yet, anyway.
I can’t resist the urge to show Sarah a piece of myself, a glimpse into my life. With a turn of the steering wheel, I guide the cruiser down a winding side road, the trees giving way to reveal a breathtaking view of a secluded valley, nestled amidst the towering peaks like a hidden paradise.
Situated between the trees stands the home I’ve built but never lived in. Its sturdy timber walls and soaring pitched roof exude rustic charm, but it’s the floor-to-ceiling windows that truly steal the show, their vast expanses of glass reflecting the splendor of the surrounding landscape.
Sarah’s sharp intake of breath is music to my ears, and I shoot her a sidelong glance, drinking in the awe that has transformed her delicate features. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, her beautiful eyes wide as she takes in the majesty of the cabin and its pristine surroundings.
Pride swells within me, a fierce, possessive surge that has my wolf preening and puffing out his chest. I lean over the steering wheel, imagining seeing it for the first time, the way she does. “I built it myself. Every beam, every pane of glass...it’s all a part of me, a reflection of the home I’ve always wanted to create.”
I built it for my mate. For her, even before I’d seen her face. Call it divine inspiration or just plain hope, I’d laid every plank of timber hoping to one day build this home.
Our home.
Sarah’s gaze snaps to mine, her expression one of open astonishment and admiration. “You built this? Mitch, that’s...that’s incredible. You’re incredibly talented.”
A low rumble of satisfaction vibrates in my chest at her praise. “It was a labor of love. A way for me to pour every ounce of my heart and soul into creating a haven, a sanctuary for my...”
“For your…?” She lets the question hang in the air.
The words catch in my throat, the truth hovering on the precipice of revelation. For you, my mate, my other half. A place where we can build a life together, a home to call our own. Where we can live out our lives together. But even as the admission burns on the tip of my tongue, I force it back, swallowing hard against the tide of emotions that threaten to overwhelm me.
“I built it for my ma…my wife.”
“Wow. She’s going to be one happy woman,” Sarah says, turning her shining eyes to me.
My hand itches to reach for her and I only just stop myself when it lifts off the steering wheel. Longing blooms through the bond. Her longing for acceptance, for completion, to belong. And something else deeper and more complex. What’s more, there’s also a touch of jealousy and if I’m reading that right, it’s because she’s interested. Not only because I’m her mate and she feels a draw toward me, but because she likes the man I am.
I send a burst of affection toward her. Of my complete and total loyalty. At the first stirrings of love I have for her.
For humans, it would be far too soon to feel anything close to the strength of those emotions, but the bond works differently. It provides a connection between our souls, so that we recognize each other on a much deeper level. There will be a lifetime of getting to know each other, but that deeper connection is already there. For me, she is already my one and only. She’s everything I ever want, need or desire. She is perfect for me in every way. She’s a gift given to me by the Wolf Shifter Goddess, blessed by the wings of fate.
For me, there is no hesitation. And once she’s aware of the bond, she will understand too. I send my desire for her through the bond, hoping that she’ll start to feel an inch of what I do.
I grow still. Every cell in my body is locked on her as the scent of her desire swirls around us. She draws in a quick breath, her pupils dilating, and I want to whoop with happiness and joy. She feels me. The bond is no longer one way. My wolf stirs beneath my skin.
Mate. Claim. Mine. Bite.
I grit my teeth, fighting against the rising tide of instinct and primal need that threatens to sweep me away. I can’t lose control, not now, not when so much hangs in the balance.
Stop. She needs more time. She needs to feel more. She needs to know and fully understand before we claim her.
But my wolf isn’t listening. He’s scenting her interest. Her arousal. He doesn’t care about waiting, or upsetting her, or potentially scaring her away forever. He wants her and he wants her now.
I grip the steering wheel tight to stop from reaching across the console. I swing the wheel and hightail it away from our future home, guiding the cruiser back into the main road, putting as much distance between us and the temptation of my sanctuary as possible.
Sarah grips the door as the cruiser rocks, her eyes wide. All I want to do is stop and explain, but I can’t because my teeth are already elongating. I press my tongue against the tip of my fangs hoping the coppery taste of my blood is enough to shock my wolf into regaining his mind but it isn’t.
Her brows wrinkle, confusion and a hint of hurt flickering across her delicate features. She doesn’t understand the leash on my wolf grows more tenuous, threatening to snap at any moment.
“I’ll take you back to the Wolf’s Bite,” I manage, my voice a low, gravelly rumble that betrays the turmoil raging within me. “You should rest before the festivities begin.”
We pull up in front of my sister’s hotel and I waste no time in throwing the cruiser into park and killing the engine. Without a word, I exit the vehicle, rounding the hood in a few long strides to open Sarah’s door for her.
She regards me warily, her eyes guarded. I don’t meet her gaze. Not when my control is hanging by a mere thread.
“I’ll come by to collect you at five. Be ready,” I growl, the words clipped and abrupt in a desperate bid to mask the sound of my wolf pushing through.
I help her from the cruiser and bolt to my side to slide behind the wheel once again, every muscle in my body straining with the effort of restraint. It’s the only way I can keep Sarah safe. I slam the vehicle into gear, wincing as the tires spin on the gravel before I tear down the road and away from our mate.
My wolf howls but I’m so angry with him I can’t talk to him to calm him down. If it weren’t for him, we’d still have her in the cruiser with us.
Instead, I cling to my control with my fingernails until I reach the outskirts of the town. I throw open the door and tear off my clothes, and let the shift rip through me. My wolf throws back his head and howls, the sound echoing through the valley. Best I let him take control and run before he steps in and makes a mess of not only our lives but that of our mate.