Chapter 6
Outside the front door, on the deck, it’s peaceful, the sun beaming down through the trees.
A few small birds chirp, flying in the warm sun rays, and I let my body warm.
I didn’t want to trip any hidden alarms by climbing out my window.
Plus, if anyone else shows up, I can tell them I had permission.
I hear the sound of tires on snow in the distance, and my shoulders shrink.
If it’s Stark, I can’t be missing when he gets back.
That won’t help me. I move to sit on the steps, in a sports bra and the same tight running shorts.
I will tell him I was going running. He won’t get too mad, even after I denied Jocko’s request, but still, my palms grip the front of my knees.
The engine hum gets closer, but it’s not the sound of Stark’s pickup truck.
A green SUV pulls up and parks. A girl steps out, taller than most, and I realize I recognize her.
She was at the second dinner I had here.
She’s dressed in an actual winter coat, along with leggings and fuzzy-topped winter boots.
A weird choice for a werewolf, unless she spent time with the humans.
Sometimes the odd werewolf prefers their trends.
Her hair is cut short in a bob around her neck.
“Hi?” I say. Maybe I can make her leave quick.
“You going somewhere?” A hand rests on the hip of her puffy coat as she gives me an unimpressed look.
“Just for a quick run.”
“Stark told me to come by. I’m Nikki. You definitely aren’t supposed to be running alone.”
“I can keep a secret if you can. You can go or do whatever your plans were.” I stand up and step toward the driveway.
“I can’t, and neither can you.”
I don’t want to bolt past her. She could turn and then catch me in a blink. I’m the only known non-werewolf in the pack, so even if she’s tiny when she changes, a werewolf’s speed isn’t something I can keep up with on only two feet.
“Want to run with me then?” I need space, air. Movement. I lift my arms up overhead for a stretch.
“No, thanks.” She brushes her short hair out of her eyes.
I can’t believe he sent someone to watch me. I don’t even know her, and you’d think he’d mention it. Not that we’ve seen each other since dinner.
“Guess we might as well go inside.”
She’s comfortable in the house and grabs us both a glass of water before sitting with me in the pit. She’s tall and beautiful. A twist starts in my gut, and I force it away.
“So, Stark and you are friends?” I ask while hiding my lips with my glass and taking a sip. My pulse sounds loud in my ears.
“No, more than friends. Stark is . . . well, you live with him. You must spend a lot of time together.”
I open up to hear her thoughts.
Stark is mine. We’ll be mated soon.
My new suspicion is right—she’s not here ‘cause Stark asked her to be. She’s here because she knows everyone else must be busy.
I’m not surprised he has a partner under wraps since the Elders’ rules on mates and fraternizing imply that once you find a mate, your ceremony date is expected to be scheduled, and some want to be able to take time before then.
“We don’t, and I know nothing.” I shrug.
She glances down at her phone, then back up at me. I don’t have anyone to text or call anymore so my phone hasn’t left my bag since I was forced here.
“He just likes to take time with making life decisions, but he will get there. Some mate young, others later. You have anyone?”
“I think you know the answer to that question.”
She lets out a light laugh, then her eyes do a full once-over.
There’s not much to see—my dark-brown hair is tied back in a high ponytail, and I am in incredible shape, but so are most of the pack.
It’s not a rare occurrence to have a six-pack around here.
The purple under my eyes hasn’t faded after a restless sleep of Pratt filling my dreams with warnings.
Before her glass is empty, she stands. “Well, I just came to say hi. I’ll see you later.”
I don’t bother to say goodbye before she’s out the door.
The large clock above the mismatched gray stone fireplace gives me the answer I want. There’s still enough time.
When the sound of her SUV hits the road, I move off the stairs and round the large house, straight toward the pine-filled woods.
I pick a well-used path for now to mesh my tracks with others.
I know where Stark’s house is in general.
If I go off this way, I should reach a clearing and then a rock face that goes to another expansive part of the forest.
The thrill of being alone outside shoots bursting vibrations through my legs. I glance at the snow melting below my feet. If I move quick, the snow is deep enough it won’t be noticeable out here.
I pick up the pace, pulling the cool air in and forming dense clouds from my own breath blowing behind me. Hair still up in a ponytail, I reach up and tighten it to keep it snug.
It doesn’t take long for the clearing to start to show in the distance where there’s more light behind the trees, but blackness fills my vision as my body gets thrown to the side.
Wolf scent floods my senses, and one large paw pins my chest. The internal heat rolls off me, as I sink from the snow melting below me.
A low growl escapes Stark. Huge arctic eyes flare at me, ready to kill.
If I wanted to be dead, I would have made a lot of different choices in my life.
I squirm, trying to get him off me, but he doesn’t budge.
My legs squeeze together, betraying me; it’s been a while.
I blame his coat; the universe never should have given him one so devastating.
He blows his wolf breath into my face. How dare he pin me. What happened to a normal hello—a word lacking from Stark’s vocabulary. The bottom of his paw is rough on the skin my sports bra doesn’t cover. I can’t get a word out while he’s holding my ribs down.
Pratt might drop in and kill me himself for this.
I shut out all the cold air I’ve been clinging to and fuel the temperature of my skin with the anger coursing across me.
In seconds, his wolf eyes lose the glare and go wide, showing off the bright blue in contrast to the darkness of his coat.
Then he lets out a small yelp as his paw burns from the heat radiating from my chest.
Serves you right. I have no patience for bullies. I have dealt with them for most of my life.
I watch his body shake and go down into a crouch. His fur vanishes, absorbing into him, leaving a man who is small in comparison to the wolf. As he stands, I notice he’s dressed in all black again. I am understanding why he loves it so much.
“What the hell was that?” He glares at his red hand.
“Don’t you mean, ‘Hello, sorry for shoving you to the ground’?” I prop myself up on my elbows. At least I got him off me.
“No, I mean, how are you so hot?”
“I will ignore your rude comment. Just because I’m not a giant doesn’t mean I’m ugly.”
His eyes narrow, and he looks at the sky between the trees in frustration. Like I’d make this easy. If Pratt was here, he’d be reminding me that secrets need to be kept. I shake him out of my head and get up to move away from the melted snow.
“Why are you out here in the woods? Nikki said you were in the house when she left. It’s not safe.”
So they talk often then. She did say he was taking his time. Maybe that’s the way they are together.
“Well, you and Nikki can enjoy yourselves in your home. I will gladly be on my way to gather my things and go to my home.”
The heat in me doesn’t dissipate as nerves fill me. I never get like this, and there’s only one true way to cool off. No. I can almost hear Pratt saying it, the way he always did when I crossed a line. If I run, it’ll be worse.
I shift into the deeper snow off the trail, pulling from the millions of snowflakes layered together, and start off in the direction of the house, well aware of it melting around me.
“Nikki is—”
I don’t give him a chance to finish. “You tackled me to the damn ground. Leave me alone, Stark.” I flip him the bird and continue my trek back in the deeper snow, which comes up to right below my knees. It starts to help.
He doesn’t leave, but rather trails behind me all the way to the house.
If I have to take another shower, I might run Stark out of water—but I do anyway.
Before I can get dressed, a knock comes at the door. It’s not even close to dinnertime.
I pull the towel from my hair and wrap it around my dry body. I do want to leave, but I can’t unless the Elders agree. Some rules we can’t fight.
Before I reach the door, it swings open and Stark barges in. What the fuck is wrong with this man?
“Excuse me?” I tug my towel tighter around me. For the first time, I notice it’s not huge, like everything else in this house. The towel is designed for humans, not werewolves.
“I knocked earlier, and you didn’t answer. Figured you’d escaped out a window.” He stares out the large window between the bed and the bookshelves. In front of it is a nice chair, too small for him now that he’s standing next to it. Weird.
“I went for a shower.”
Cluing in, his eyes go wide and his cheeks fill with a faint pink when he turns to face me.
Guess I got it, even small and useless.
“Shit, Aloka, you—” He pauses, and those blue eyes trace me.
I shift on my feet. There’s no reason to react, I tell myself. I’m a human, while he’s the youngest Alpha our packs have ever had, according to the history books.
“Can you get out so I can get dressed? I’ll be out in five minutes.”
“I’ll be right outside the door.”
“Fine.” I wrap my hand around his wrist, though it doesn’t wrap fully, and pull him toward the door.
My fingertips get a strange tingling. Once he’s out, I let go and enter back into my room.
The audacity of him. The tingles fade, and when I look down, my hand looks no different, only now I have the sense that something is missing from it.
Well, that’s new. I haven’t touched many other werewolves before. If only I could ask Pratt.
Stark wasn’t joking. When I open the door, he’s leaning against the one across from it. I don’t say a word as I walk past him. He follows me into the main room, and I relax more when I notice it’s empty. I am not ready for more socializing.
“So, I notice you don’t eat much.” Stark wanders into the kitchen, opening the fridge.
I did have more fruit today. I’ve lost some muscle in the last few days, but I’m not worried about it.
“Well, being held captive doesn’t create much of an appetite.” Plus, losing the only person you had left on earth you could trust.
“If I could make it, what would you eat?”
“No clue.”
“Give me something.”
I drink the glass of water he placed on the counter for me. “Steak probably.”
He opens up the freezer and peeks around. “We’re going to town.”
“Really? I would love to get out of here.” A smile crosses my face.
“You go to town?”
My smile vanishes at the shock in his voice. “What? You thought I never left my house?”
His silence is the answer I expect. Most people thought I was some weird hermit girl, afraid of the outside world, because I’m not just like them.
“I used to go. It’s not like Pratt always did the shopping for the house.” Things changed when he got more afraid for me.
“You went alone?”
“Yes.”
A flash of something crosses his face then disappears back to the calm, straight face he wears often. “Pratt had different views. That’s not happening. It’s not safe.”
“How? Are humans that stupid to venture into our town?” I can deal with the comments of other pack members; he saw it just the other day.
“It’s not the humans.” He runs his hand through his hair, down to his neck. “Out of respect for your brother, they stayed away from you, but now some who don’t know you think you should . . .” He hesitates. Does he think I’m ashamed of not being able to turn into a werewolf?
“Got it. They won’t hurt me.” I head toward the front door. My attempt for a change of scenery failed this morning, but this will do.
“Alo, they will.”
“What did you just call me?” The grief of Pratt being gone floods back.
I leave the house and take a breath of the cold air. A second later the door slams behind me.
“Get in the truck.”
Stark passes me on the small deck and heads to the passenger side of his truck.
Opening the door, he gestures for me to come forward.
A trip to town would be nice, but I’m not talking to him.
He can’t call me Alo—he doesn’t even know me.
Keeping my eyes down, I walk over and heave myself into the cab in silence.
He gives me less than a second to move my feet before shutting the door.
Stark manages to drive all the way to town without a mention of our earlier conversation. When we reach it, everything looks the same. Though most of us like living in the woods, there are a decent number of houses here where others live for various reasons.
We pull into the grocery store’s parking lot and Stark kills the engine.
I climb out and almost skip into the building.
Shopping is something normal I used to do like everyone else.
The store isn’t ginormous, like those in human cities, but it’s got a butcher and a bakery in it, along with rows of products locally made, some brought in from human cities or other werewolf territories.
I pick up a basket on my way in and Stark keeps close, his frame less than two feet from me every step I make. I head straight to the back of the store, past the vegetable displays, for the butcher. The display case is filled with different meats, including some that were locally hunted.
Pratt would’ve said to stop giving him things to question.
The reminder makes my choice for me. I go with a small steak instead of the huge one in front of me behind the glass. This is the longest I’ve gone without protein. Not that I’ve needed it in the last few days.
Stark orders two dozen more. Guess quiet dinners only lasted for one night.
The butcher, a wide man with short, light hair, hands over the packages and gives me a warm smile.
I’ve been here enough times for him to recognize me, even though the last time was over a year ago.
When the salmon-colored paper-wrapped packages fill the entire basket, Stark’s hand slides next to mine on the thin metal handle of the cart as he takes it.
That strange tingling sensation flutters along the outside of my hand.
We reach the checkout and Stark starts to unload the basket on the belt. He’s distracted with the grocer, so I duck low and move toward the unopened checkout behind him. Exiting the store I look down, my hand looks the same. I do not need weird sensations on top of the ones I already experience.