Chapter 68
CHASON HARLOW
The dog is trying to control his excitement, but his body shakes, and I swear he switches which paw is hurt.
Ash is right; he has ferocious wolf potential but acts like a golden retriever.
Bringing him into my house is a terrible idea.
My cat will hate him, but she hates all people and only tolerates me.
Nyx showed up after my mom got sick, acting like she’s the homeowner, judging me from high perches with the swish of her black tail.
The dog’s fur is the softest I’ve ever felt, and I picture myself lying in front of the fire and stroking him. Jay-sus. Get a grip. He’s not mine, he’ll never be mine. One demanding pet is more than I can handle.
I take him around back to enter through the kitchen because it’s closed off from the rest of the house. As I unlock the door, he jumps on my back, hugging me with his paws.
“Hold on, good boy. Watch out for the cat, she’s brutal.” I chuckle and swing the door open for him. He won’t enter until I do. For all I know, he’s afraid of cats. I set my bag and water bottle on the counter and squat, but realize he’s tall, and I end up on my knees sitting up straight.
I brought him inside this way because Nyx sleeps on the couch or my bed. Of course, tonight she’s sitting on the kitchen counter watching us with her amber eyes.
“Let me have a look at you,” I say and the dog sits immediately. Nyx leaps onto his back, and I’m ready for claws, hissing, and a bloodbath. “Nyx,” I yell, lunging for her, but her claws are retracted and she’s purring. Purring. The dog flops and she headbutts him with love.
While the dog’s distracted, I pick up each of his paws and test for pain in his legs. “Are you a big faker? Got me to bring you home. At least you’re original.” I laugh at myself and unzip his pouch to find a phone.
“Mr. Fancy Pants has a cell phone. What did you do with your owner?” I check the call log and dial the last number. The dog notices and lets out a high-pitched yelp. “I got your number now.” I wave a finger and boop him on the nose as Nyx winds between us.
“That was fast,” a gruff voice answers.
“Hi, I found a dog with this phone in the hospital parking garage,” I say as if I’m unsure.
“Fuck! Is he…” He can’t finish the sentence, and from years of working in the emergency room, the question is obvious.
“No, sorry. The dog’s fine, but there was no sign of your friend. The dog acted hurt, so I brought him home, but after an exam he seems totally fine. Do you know how I can reach his owner?” I scratch between his ears.
“How did you get this phone?” His anger is palpable. “Describe the dog.”
“Sure, he’s big and black as midnight, and my friend thought he was a wolf, but he’s just a lovebug, aren’t you, good boy,” I say and he licks my face again.
“Oh, and he has a white patch on his chest that’s kinda heart shaped.
” Nyx rolls over at my words, and she has a suspiciously similar mark, like they’re siblings but different species.
“He let you see that?” The man sounds completely bewildered.
“When I grabbed the phone, he rolled over so I could rub his belly.” On cue, the dog begs for tummy scratches. “What’s his name?”
“Rafe,” the man says with such authority that the dog whimpers.
“Rafe?” I ask, and his ears perk up. “Your friend named his dog Rafe?”
The man huffs. “Don’t let him fool you, he’s a smart-ass dog. I cannot wait to hear this story. Just put his phone back in the pouch and let him outside. He’ll find his way home.” The man ends the call before I get his name. So much for wanting to hear the story.
Rafe’s big brown eyes speak to me, and I pet him and Nyx silently for a few minutes, debating what to do.
“Welp, Rafey boy, you’re staying here tonight.
No way I’m letting you wander around in the dark.
Your owner’s friend isn’t worried and can find you in the morning.
” I give his head another pat and grab a mixing bowl for his water.
“Sorry, boy, I worked three doubles in a row. I’m gonna pass out and check on you later.
” I cross the room to the kitchen door and shut it tight behind me after Nyx follows.
Each step away from the dog is harder than the last.
I’m more tired than I thought. Dogs are not my favorite pets. I’m a cat lover. Still, his whimper almost has me running back for more snuggles. It doesn’t help that Nyx lies in front of Rafe’s door and gives me disdainful looks with her judgy eyes.
In the bathroom, I skip my skincare routine and brush my teeth. Our regional hospital doesn’t usually get serious injuries in the ER, but there was a car accident and six people had life-threatening conditions. I’m beyond exhausted.
That doesn’t stop me from worrying about Rafe, and why my cat likes him.
Goddess of the moon, I’m going all doggie dad, but he has an owner who will miss him. People will notice if I kidnap Rafe. No one claimed Nyx so I assumed she was a stray. Stray dogs don’t have cell phones.
I drag myself to bed and fall asleep in less than a minute.
I’m running through a forest, being chased, but it’s a game I want to play. A giggle escapes my throat, and I curse myself for giving away my location. Not that he can’t hear me because he can. He’s letting me run, building the anticipation.
I glance over my shoulder, but it’s too dark. I know my way and plow ahead. Words are on the tip of my tongue to tease him, rile him up before he catches me. One more minute and I’ll throw a fake insult at him.
Out of the corner of my right eye, movement causes me to brace for impact.
A gigantic wolf knocks me sideways and stands on my chest. Instead of being terrified, I’m thrilled and sink my hands into his silky fur.
The wolf nuzzles his head into my neck, then lifts up, captivating me with his warm brown eyes. There’s so much love it’s a living thing surrounding us, intertwining us.
The wolf leans in for a kiss, and my brain registers that something’s wrong.
I wake up with a gasp and almost fall out of bed in the pitch dark. What in the harvest moon was that? Witches love to be one with nature, but that was extreme. My heart’s beating as if I actually ran through the woods and came face-to-face with a wolf. Not a wolf: Rafe.
The amethyst crystal on my nightstand calls to me. It’s where any self-respecting witch keeps the gem known as the “master calmer.” I palm it over my heart, slow my breathing, and drift off again.
My eyes flutter open to the bright sun. I forgot to close my black out shades last night. Staring at the ceiling, I realize I’m remarkably refreshed. That was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years. Literal years.
Reality catches up, and I have a dog in my kitchen that must need to pee. I bolt up and hear a soft snore. Rafe is stretched out on my bed as if he owns it, sleeping with Nyx curled against his side.
“What the cakey cauldron,” escapes my mouth and wakes the dog. “How did you? I shut the door.” Maybe I didn’t shut the door tight, or Nyx let him out.
Rafe’s big dark eyes take me in, and I swear they express guilt.
Next, I’m knocked off my ass and onto the floor.