Chapter 46
RODERICK
Juliet has been quiet all day. Her gaze turned inward, as if in constant conversation with herself.
Something is going on behind those eyes, and I want to know what.
She sits across from me at her little kitchen table, swirling the pasta I made around her fork, but not lifting it to her mouth.
Whenever I stand next to Juliet, she seems so small, even though I know she’s average height. Still, my wolf and I want to feed her. Make her plump so she doesn’t shiver as much on the cold days.
“I can make something else,” I offer.
Juliet jumps, as if surprised to hear me speak.
Did she forget I was here?
“Oh! No. Sorry, my mind was somewhere else.” Her fork finally rises to her mouth, and she bites into the noodles, needing to grab a napkin before the red sauce drips down her chin.
After she swallows and sips water, my woman smiles at me, her focus almost fully in this moment.
“This is delicious. My stomach loves having you around.”
Do you love having me around? I want to ask.
Maybe it’s the aftereffects of the full moon, but I can’t get rid of this on-edge feeling. Like I’m missing something.
Doesn’t help that Boris decided to run his mouth at breakfast. Before he showed up, Juliet was all smiles and suggestive remarks.
Now she’s drawing into herself.
I wish I could tell her that Boris was having a bad day.
But the thing is, he’s always an ass, and he’s not the only one in the pack who thinks I should run things differently.
My dad dealt with the same pushback, and when I asked him about why he didn’t kick those wolves out, his answer stayed with me.
“Leaders lead everyone. They listen to everyone, not just the wolves who agree with them. They make choices for the good of the pack. They lead by example.”
I’ve always strived to do the same.
“What did you do last night?” I ask, wanting to hear her speak again.
Juliet’s voice is my favorite sound, but she hasn’t said much today, and I’m experiencing the withdrawal.
Her smile fades, and I mourn the loss. She shrugs one shoulder, eyes falling to her food.
“Not much. I read for a bit. Had trouble falling asleep, so I turned on my music. Had a dance party.”
The thought of Juliet doing her dangerous dancing starts a grin on my face, but then I think on her full statement.
“Trouble sleeping? Does that happen a lot?”
The nights I’ve stayed over, Juliet barely moves in the bed. Completely passed out. Usually with her head on my chest.
She takes another bite of pasta, drawing out her answer.
“Not a lot exactly. But there are some nights when I can’t help thinking about my living situation.
And it’s like my mind fixates on it, and my anxiety ramps up, and then sleeping is out of the question unless I’m dead-on-my-feet exhausted. Hence the midnight dance-a-thon.”
Again, an odd phrasing of her words catches up with me. “Your living situation?”
Juliet gestures around us with her fork. “Alone, in a house outside of town, surrounded by dark woods.” She tucks a lock of ruby hair behind her ear, gaze back on her plate as she continues, “Most of the time, I love my little house. But sometimes, I get anxious.”
Anxious when I’m not around, I silently add.
Do I want Juliet to be scared when she’s alone?
No way in hell.
But do I get a flare of protective pride, knowing that her anxiety doesn’t crop up on the nights when I’m in her bed?
Damn right I do.
Simple solution: make sure I’m always in her bed.
But I can’t guarantee that on the nights of the full moon.
Maybe I should be happy that I can help soothe her mind for every night except for that one a month. But even one is too much. If I can’t be with her and the security system I installed isn’t enough to set her mind at ease, there has to be something else.
A human man would never have to leave her side.
My wolf snarls at that thought, and I feel equal disgust toward it.
Juliet is mine. No human man could keep her safe the way I can.
But there is another human who could keep her company on the nights when I’m drawn to the woods.
“Maybe Zoey could help,” I offer.
“What do you mean?”
“She was alone last night too.”
Juliet stares at me, and then a slow smile spreads across her face. “You mean, next month, I should host a full-moon slumber party with your brother’s girlfriend?”
I nod, returning her smile, enjoying the expression on her face.
After a moment though, it fades into thoughtfulness. “So, I guess Zoey and Warner are pretty serious?”
I think back to the talk I had with him after Thanksgiving. How my brother asked if I’d mind helping him move some of his stuff from the apartment over the hardware store to Zoey’s cabin.
That idea had me battling some major longing to be doing the same.
“Yeah. Definitely serious.”
Den with our mate, my wolf urges, voice loud so close to the full moon.
I rub my chest to calm him down, even though I have the same need in my bones.
The idea of building a home with Juliet.
Not having my place and her place, but our place.
And I wouldn’t even expect her to move. I know this little house means a lot to her, and I just want to be another resident in it.
“Do you know …” She hesitates, then clears her throat. “Are they going to mate?”
The word on her lips sends spikes of magic and wanting tingling all through my body.
Mate her. She is ours. We are hers, my wolf proclaims, happy, agitated need sending the beast prowling through my chest.
I know. Patience, is all I can manage in return.
But, gods-damn, mating this woman feels exactly right. That permanent bond a missing link that I want more than anything.
But she asked about my brother.
“Both are interested. Warner said they are engaged to be mated. Like humans with marriage. I believe they plan to mate in the spring.”
If Zoey were a wolf, I’m sure the ceremony would have already taken place. But humans have different traditions, different needs.
Like my Juliet. If she agreed, I’d mate her tomorrow.
But my woman will want more time. She is bold and fierce, but shadows linger behind her eyes that make her hesitate.
I will drive the shadows away.
“That’s good. That Warner isn’t pushing her,” she murmurs, trailing a slice of crusty bread through the meaty sauce on her plate.
Warner, push?
“He would never. Warner loves Zoey. He only wants her to be happy.”
Juliet goes still, and I catch the rapid flutter of her lashes even though she doesn’t meet my stare.
Did I upset her?
Thinking back on what I said, I can’t imagine which of my words could have caused her discomfort.
“Sometimes, I wonder …” Her lips tighten, keeping the rest of that statement back.
Only she might as well be a fat bunny, hopping across the wolf’s path, teasing me with a hunt.
“You wonder what?”
Juliet shakes her head, picking apart the crust of her bread.
I scoot my chair around the table, closer to her, so I can rest my hand on her knee. “Tell me.”
A muscle tics in her jaw, and I think she’s going to keep resisting. But then she answers, “I wonder how you all can be the same as them. I wonder if maybe there’s more than one version of your kind.”
Almost a full minute passes before I comprehend what she’s saying.
Werewolves. Juliet’s experiences before Pine Falls clearly colored her perception of us.
And though my interest rarely extends past the Pine Falls pack territory, I suddenly wish I had detailed knowledge of the wolves on the East Coast. Is there even a pack in Delaware?
That’s where Juliet said she was from when she was talking to Tanya.
The place she had some kind of experience with wolves that had her changing her name and moving clear across the country.
She told me not to ask.
Kill them all, my wolf snarls.
One day, when she fully trusts me, I’ll learn their names, and I’ll seek revenge for my woman.
“Do you believe that I’ll never hurt you?” I ask, needing to know if she fears me.
My librarian gives me a tight smile. “I believe you.”
But the tension remains in her eyes, and my wolf clamors for me to soothe our mate, and I try to think of ways to reassure her. To fashion a picture of our life together so that she knows there’s no reason for her to be anxious or unhappy.
She needs to know I’ll keep her safe from the shadows of her past. That I’ll seek out every beam of light and shine it on her.
Our future together will be full of sweet, happy, lusty days.
My mouth opens to tell her so. “When we mate—”
“When we what?” Her gasped question cuts off my words.
I clarify, “Mate. Not right now.” Though it would be if it were up to me. “Just … in the future.”
Juliet stares at me, eyes so wide that I know something is wrong.
Hell, she’s probably like Zoey, thinking of mating as akin to marriage, which, in a way, it is. But human women are used to grand gestures for proposals, not practical discussions about the coupling. At least, that’s what it’s like in the movies.
Bringing up the idea of us mating so casually probably let down her hopes for a romantic setting. My practical nature gets ahead of itself sometimes.
I’m about to ask her to forget I said anything, maybe try to kiss my stumble out of her memory.
But then Juliet leaves.
My woman launches from her chair and stalks out of the kitchen, her tread directed toward the front door. If she opens it, I will follow after her, but her footfalls stop, and there’s no sound of the knob turning.
Silence descends on the little house, and I wait for her to say something. Do something.
Follow her, my wolf demands.
I brush that suggestion aside. It’s better that she returns to me on her own.
“Juliet—” I call.
But I get no more out as she storms back into the kitchen.
“I will never get mated.” A twist of anger and panic pulls at her face.
Never mate? my wolf whimpers in my head, as if kicked.
“What?” There’s a pain in my chest, like a cracking and rending.
“You need to get the idea out of your mind right now because it is not happening.” Juliet’s eyes are wild, and her palm cuts through the air with a slicing gesture. As if cutting us off from a future together is as easy as that.
Just a swipe of her hand, and my longing to be with her forever will disappear.
Sitting here, still, is no longer an option. There’s so much panicked energy scorching through my limbs that I need to move. My wolf is prowling and howling, and I can’t think. I shove up from the chair, its legs screeching across her kitchen’s dingy floor.
At my sudden movement, Juliet flinches.
She flinches.
From me.
And in her eyes, I spy the fear.
She’s afraid of me.
When she told me she believed I’d never hurt her, that was a lie.
Without warning, my mind falls backward in time, to when I was eighteen and in love. Or as much in love as a grieving teenager could be. The memory of me standing in front of another woman, who shrank from me in fear.
And now it’s happening all over again.
Only this time, it’s worse. So much worse.
“What is so terrifying about me?” It’s all I can do to keep from shouting, but that would just prove I’m the raging beast she thinks I am. “I’ve never hurt you. Never will.”
“That’s not what this is about!” Juliet backs away from me until her shoulders hit the wall.
And the sour stench of fear mixes with her normally intoxicating scent. Proving that she’s lying to me.
I should drop to the floor to ease her nerves like I did that night I brought her pie. But my anxious moon-fueled wolf keeps me on my feet. Demanding I take a step toward her.
But the closer I get, the more obvious her panic is. Breaths weave in and out of her lungs, and her pulse flickers in her neck at a rapid pace.
Why? I want to moan. Why do you fear me so much?
“Mating doesn’t have to be scary,” I coax.
Juliet closes her eyes, turning her head to the side, doing all she can to block me out. “I need you”—yes, please, we can fix this—“to leave.”
That’s a sharp slice against an old wound on my heart, and my wolf silently whimpers. All my insecurities bleed into my chest. I’m drowning in my own blood. This whole interaction is destroying me. And the harsh words spill out without me fully considering what I’m saying.
“Gods, what is it with outsiders?” My fingers fist in my shirt as I consider clawing into my chest, ripping out my heart just so it doesn’t have to hurt this bad. “It’s like you come here with the sole objective of destroying me.”
“Stop it.”
“Just grab a knife and stab me, Juliet. Get it over with.”
I need to shut my mouth. Need to retreat and think.
But this hurts too much for me to be rational.
“Stop it.” She grinds a fist into her leg, and I wonder if she’s imagining ramming it into my gut.
I wish she would. Wish she would fight me instead of cowering.
Gods, what is wrong with me? Driving her to this?
Fear. Fear of losing her is so overwhelming that I’m a self-fulfilling prophecy.
“Juliet—”
“Get out!” she hisses, fierce gaze back on me. “This is my house! My home! Get out!”
With each of her words, a stab of pain shoots through my side, and I clench my fists to keep from rubbing the area where I got shot years ago. There aren’t even scars, but it feels like Juliet is digging her fingers into old wounds.
“Fine. I’m leaving.” And I do, holding up my hands in surrender as I walk out the front door, in direct opposition to my wild wolf growling at me to go back.
The night outside is frigid in a way I wish my heart could be. When I mount my bike, I tell myself not to look back. But my wolf forces my head around, seeking out the woman we love.
She’s not there. No one stands in the doorway or the window, watching me leave.
I’m alone. Thrown away.
The roar of my bike coming to life can’t drown out the howl in my head.