Chapter 13 - Wilf
I wake up before her, which is no surprise, as I barely sleep these days anyway.
What is surprising is how I wake up. I come to slowly, which never happens.
And I wake up with Lara curled against my chest, her head tucked under my chin, and her soft breath against my collarbone.
I lie there, just feeling the weight of her against me as the early morning light filters through the curtains, and try not to think too deeply about why my wolf has gone so quiet that I can barely feel him at all.
He’s been so agitated recently, since the lottery, and certainly since we’ve been holed up here avoiding the rogues, but now he’s calm. He’s not pacing, he’s not restless, he’s not pushing at me to get up and do something to distract him. He’s quite happy with a well fucked woman lying in his arms.
I don’t think I’ve ever let a woman fall asleep in bed with me, certainly not wrapped in my arms. That’s not what those encounters were for, and there was always a good excuse to leave; even with the ones I ‘dated’ for a bit.
I’ve never wanted to give the impression it was anything other than what it was—but then, I have no idea whatever happened last night was. It was unexpected to say the least.
I shift slightly, trying not to wake her. The sheet falls away, exposing her bare shoulder and the curve of her breast; there’s a small bruise on her neck. One of many, I’m sure. I tried to be gentle, but she’s human, and far too fragile for my hands. Or the rest of me.
The thought pulls me up, and I’m not sure it’s guilt I feel tugging at me because I really don’t regret fucking her, but it’s something.
An unease sits in my chest. I ease my arm out and watch as she settles further into the covers, obviously exhausted.
I pull on my sweats and find my discarded shirt, turning to check she’s still asleep before I slip out of the room.
I need to think, and I can’t do it in here.
The main room feels cold despite the pump, so I light the stove and put the coffee on, standing at the window with my hands flat on the counter.
I watch the sky go from grey to almost white as the clouds roll in off the ridge and try to ignore the way my entire body smells of her.
I watch the swirl of the clouds as the coffee whistles and consider the nagging feeling in my chest.
Despite living on the edge of the pack, I do understand pack loyalty; probably better than most. After all, without my pack, I would have had nothing when my father cut and ran.
I’d die for my pack, even if I avoid spending too much time in the town.
But this morning, that woman in my arms made me feel something that feels similar to pack loyalty, but somehow more…
different. It felt like a closeness that, if I were younger and more inexperienced, I might think just came from having great sex, but I’ve had plenty of that.
This is different. It’s a closeness that I can imagine many folk might want to sink into.
And it’s not that I don’t want more of it; just the memory of her tight, hot body, and the sounds she made as I took her make me want to storm back in there and tear the sheet from her body, but it makes me feel something else as well.
Because it also makes me want to run, because I felt it all a little too strongly for my liking.
The coffee boils, and I pour a cup on autopilot.
My mind goes straight to the lottery, and I can’t help wondering if that open connection has broken something inside me.
I’ve felt it, the hollowness, and how my wolf has been restless.
The way I felt when I took her filled my soul.
I felt the connection between us as though it were a living, breathing thing, and I chased it, relishing in it.
But now, in the grey cold light of morning, I’m doubting what I felt.
Maybe my wolf is just looking for a connection and will latch onto something it shouldn’t.
Like a human who is incapable of a bond and doesn’t care about shifter mating lotteries.
Especially a human with some weird kind of power that might be a threat to shifters.
Even if I doubt she means intentional harm, despite how much she dislikes us.
None of that would be the same thing as a sanctioned bond, and I’d wager that a random magical misfire doesn’t create a stable situation.
I drink the coffee black and forget to even add sugar, ignoring how bitter it is as I process my thoughts.
How do I know anything I do or feel for Lara is real when I have the bond magic messing with my head and wolf?
I know he’s quiet and satisfied because she’s near.
Because he’s tasted her. In a way, he’s never been satisfied by any other female.
But I’d be a fool to think that’s any more than a coincidence.
I didn’t even want to go to the lottery.
I didn’t want my name to be pulled. But when it was, and there was no mate, I felt a disappointment in my bones that I didn’t expect.
I didn’t question my life or my place in the pack until that moment.
I was grateful for the life I had, and now I’m questioning everything whilst trying to carry on as normal, pretending it doesn’t matter when it actually does.
The damn lottery.
And now it’s got me twisted up over something that should be very simple. A beautiful woman wanted to fuck, and I obliged. That should be enough.
I shrug on my jacket and decide I’d rather be cold out there checking the perimeter than standing here overthinking.
It might even wake my wolf up, which is ironic because I’ve wanted him to give me a rest for weeks, and now I’m sick of him being quiet.
I step out, letting the cold air whip around me for a moment, feeling better already as I zip my jacket and break into a jog, covering the first and second sensors quickly.
It’s over by the third one that I first notice the tracks.
Four sets, unmistakably shifters, working in a slow line along the southern boundary.
They came in from the west, followed the perimeter for fifty yards out for what looks like at least a quarter of a mile.
They didn’t push through, or the sensor would have gone off, but when I check them, I see they’ve been tested and drained.
They knew enough to push it but not trigger it.
They walked the line and then pulled back.
Four shifters and not pack. The spacing of the tracks tells me all I need to know; they weren’t just out running, they were working. They came to look but not attack. But they’ll be back.
I follow the tracks out and eventually hit a compacted trail that leads out toward the outcrop where I took Lara out of the hut.
They’ve been tracking her old routes and obviously figured out that she didn’t get off the mountain.
They want her enough to breach our territory repeatedly, despite the patrols. They’re not done yet.
I let out a long breath and stand, listening to the forest.
My wolf is awake and alert now. My vision tunnels to tracking the smallest animals and looks through the canopy below; I have a clear vantage point, and they’re not here now, but they can’t be too far away.
And the cabin’s wards are built to obscure, not defend, not against a full onslaught.
I thought the snow would buy us more time, but even that hasn’t detoured them.
I realize with a certain finality that I can’t keep this from Nick and the pack any longer.
The rogues want Lara, and I need to deal with that.
The talismans were one thing—I told myself they might have nothing to do with Lara, but that seems less and less likely.
Now the rogues are sniffing around the cabin.
I can’t let another patrol head out here without knowing the full picture.
I take some photos of the tracks and the drained sensor, and then trace the line back toward the cabin, completing a perimeter run to check I haven’t missed anything else before heading back.
I watch their lines, and I understand their motives.
It’s not a question of if they’ll be back.
It’s when. And with the worst of the snow seemingly over, it probably won’t be long.
By the time I walk back in, I’ve pretty much got the conversation I’m going to have with Nick and Connor clear in my head, but the moment I cross the threshold, I’m hit with the scent of her, and my brain scrambles.
I cross to the security panel and activate the extra sensors and wards, knowing they’re not designed to stop a full-scale attack, but they’re better than nothing.
I assume Lara is still asleep until I hear the sound of water running. The thought of her naked under the steam is enough to make me want to head straight to her, but instead, I force myself to dial Connor’s number. He picks up on the second ring.
“Wilf,” he says, “You ready to come back in yet?”
I sigh, “I think we’d better get Nick on the line for this update.” I tell him.
I hear the switch in his tone and the sound of him dialing Nick from his side. “I’ve had a feeling you were about to drop something big,” he says as I pour a fresh coffee and take a seat.
“I’d better start at the beginning then,” I tell him.
Nick comes onto the line a moment later, before I can even reply, “Right, I’m in. What have you got, Wilf?”
I take a moment before launching into it.
The hut. Pulling Lara out before she froze to death.
Bringing her back here to avoid the shifters following us, either back to mine or the town.
The feeling that she had some kind of ability, but not knowing what until I eventually got it out of her, and how we think that ties into the talismans. And now the tracks.”
“How many?” Connor asks.
“At least four sets along the south line,” I tell him. “Came in from the west, ran the perimeter. Drained the third sensor without setting it off. They know what they’re doing. They left the same way they came in.”
“They’ll be back,” Nick mutters.
“Yeah,” I reply. “They must have followed her trail from the hut. Even with the wards disguising it, they knew she didn’t get off the mountain, so they’ve been circling back and double-checking the routes. Pretty sure they know where she is now.”
“Right,” Connor says eventually, “How long since you found the tracks?”
“Forty or so minutes,” I tell him, adding. “I’ve set the emergency wards, which should confuse them for a while.”
“They should hold until we can get to you,” Nick says. “There was a landslide on the quarry road, but it’s almost clear—maybe a day's work, but we’ll keep you posted. Connor, get Thomas and Bryan on the next patrol. Pull in Ethan if you need to. I want the western trail swept immediately.”
“Already on it,” Connor replies, and I have no doubt.
“Wilf, we’re bringing you both in,” Nick says, “tell the girl we’ll figure this out. She’s safe. Or at least, she will be.”
“I’ll try, but she’s not keen on shifters,” I say, wondering if that has changed at all after last night, or if taking advantage of her will have made things worse. Is that what I did? I shake the thought off, replying, “We’ll be ready.”
“Ok, and Wilf?” Nick says, pausing. “Don’t sit on this stuff yourself, you hear me? We’re pack. We’re in this together.”
I want to agree, and I know what he’s saying.
But deep down, I feel like I’m in this with Lara and that I know going to town isn’t going to be what she wants, and my damn wolf just wants to hold onto her for a bit longer.
Like he’s trying to figure her out before everyone else gets to.
Maybe it is the lottery messing with me, after all.
“Understood,” I say, because that’s what’s expected, but my wolf still grumbles.
“I’ll update after the patrols get in,” Connor says before signing off.
I hang up and set the phone down on the table, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was even holding.
The shower is off now, and I can’t help wondering if Lara caught any of that conversation.
I know I can’t hide this from her, but for some reason, I wish I could.
She’s scared, and she’s human—two things I’m not sure I’m equipped to handle.
I put the coffee back on and wait, wondering which Lara I’ll get. The young woman who carries a knife and hates all shifters, or the one who came apart in my arms last night, who kissed me like she meant it and took my cock like she was made for me.