Chapter 8 - Dawson
Sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, I grab a towel off the rack in the bathroom and dampen it under the faucet before scrunching it into a bunch and pressing it to my ribs.
A staggered sigh escapes my lips then, forcing my eyes to focus on my reflection in the bathroom mirror, which leads me to inspect my face.
Thank Goddess, everything still appears intact on my face, and I haven’t suffered any brutal slashes across my cheek.
I would have been angrier if I had. Not because I’m vain, but because I plan on visiting Yvonne and Gio tonight.
Impressions matter, right?
The lasting impression of being a cold, heartless brute when I rejected Yvonne in the past seems to linger, the words I uttered back then echoing in the back of my mind even now as I think about her.
“I, Dawson Black, reject you, Yvonne Lang, as my mate…”
Those words roll around my head to serve as a reminder that I simply cannot make a move on her and expect her to accept it with open arms. Besides, I haven’t fully decided what I want with her, except that fate led us to cross paths after five years, and now I just can’t seem to get her out of my mind.
That’s probably why I was so out of touch tonight. I thought that joining the hunt would take my mind off her, but I only seem to be getting more restless with every passing day.
The nights are crueler when I’m left with my own thoughts, my body reacting instinctively to a she-wolf who sleeps behind my house, probably dreaming about her child’s father and pining for him.
“Hmph!” I grunt, wanting desperately to get Yvonne out of my head, but failing dismally every time.
Five years ago, I would have claimed her as mine.
We were on the brink of the rest of our lives together, but she fled the pack before I got the chance to do what was right.
There was no doubt in my mind that she would have been my mate—just the obstacle Garret posed when he threatened to cut the funding for my parents’ treatment.
Now that they’re all gone, I have been presented with the perfect opportunity to do things the right way—my way. But Yvonne has since moved on with another male and has gone as far as bringing a child into this world.
It’s not like it matters. If her mate is “long gone,” there’s no reason for us not to try our luck at a second chance. I just don’t understand her hesitation, but I’m planning on finding out tonight.
Chipping away at her rock-solid walls has been a tough feat, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.
Tonight, when we hunted for the demon, we ended up facing a wild bear in the mountains that decided to be territorial about the cave it found.
Perhaps I was trying to prove to myself that I still have it in me to take down whatever comes my way, and that’s why I led the attack against the savage beast that tore into my ribs with its ferocious claws.
Perhaps there’s still some adrenaline from the fight left surging through my veins that has me ignoring the aches and pains I should be feeling from having my flesh sliced by vile claws.
It’s that same adrenaline that has me hastily opening the cabinet above the basin and pulling out whatever I have on hand to patch up my injuries.
The others insisted that I needed to visit the clinic to see a healer, but I was adamant that, despite the injuries I faced out there tonight, I needed to see Yvonne.
I didn’t tell them that much, but I noticed the way Elias’s beady wolf eyes watched me stumble back home as if he could read my thoughts.
Those thoughts were muddled, and I didn’t even need to shield them from the main alpha’s mind to hide them. I haven’t been able to make sense of them myself.
I mean, I’d spent five years away from Yvonne, and I was relatively fine before I stumbled on her at the river. Now that she’s back in Girdwood, all I want to do is be close to her, soaking up her scent as if it’s my sustenance.
As soon as I’m done haphazardly wrapping a bandage around my torso to cover my injury, I bolt for the back door, becoming strangely rabid until I’m standing on Yvonne’s porch, knocking on her door with raps of urgency.
The door opens, sending a gust of wind knocking in my face, drenched with the floral sweetness that I’ve been craving.
“Dawson…?” she breathes, slightly apprehensive when her brows knit into a frown.
“What are you—” Yvonne pauses to gulp when her eyes flicker to my topless chest. Her eyes quickly dart back to my face, and she loses the frown when she shakes her head as if to get rid of some thought that crossed her mind.
“Wh—what are you doing here? It’s late.”
“Is Gio around?” I ask, trying to make light of my visit. “I came to check up on him.”
Yvonne lifts a skeptical brow. “You came to check up on my son? In that condition?”
She points to my covered ribcage, but instead of following her gaze, I keenly inspect the way she’s raking her eyes over my exposed torso. Silver eyes drag over my muscles, pausing at every contour as if she’s committing it to memory.
Smirking slyly, I lap up the attention since I’ve only been faced with her cold nature toward me and her evasiveness.
Seeing her ogle my bare torso gives me hope that she remembers the passion we once shared. Even before I had the pleasure of tasting the treasures between her thighs, I always noticed the way she looked at me.
“What condition?” I ask as I point to the bandage. “This is nothing.”
When Yvonne doesn’t reply, I look up to get a little stroke to my ego. Yvonne seems to be having trouble removing her eyes from my bare chest, and gulps to compose herself when she finally lifts them to my face.
She clears her throat, then her eyes become narrow and defiant as she crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s not nothing. Your bandage is soaked. You should probably get it checked out.”
“You seem to be doing all the checking out,” I chuckle coyly, to which Yvonne gasps and reels back.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she dismisses, finally averting her eyes and staring at the floor.
Chuckling, my chin lifts with haughtiness because I have her right where I want her.
“Oh, come now, Yvie…” I taunt, wiggling my brows playfully. “You and I both know you were checking me out.”
Yvonne gasps again, then quickly frowns to wear a mask of indignance as if I didn’t just catch her drooling at the sight of my body.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dawson!” she retorts with a huff as she tightens her folded arms across her chest.
“Am I being ridiculous?” I drawl smoothly, stepping over the threshold to get closer to her, enjoying this little argument of ours. But when I take a step forward, it isn’t very calculated, and my left knee gives out on the side where I’d been injured.
I’d been too distracted to realize that the injuries I suffered were harsher than I’d like to admit. When I stumble forward, a pair of dainty, warm hands catch my shoulders in an attempt to steady me.
Our eyes meet, locking for a second that seems to extend into eternity when time loses its essence, and all that’s left is the immeasurable depths of the silkiest silver eyes that seem to reel me in.
My heart skips a beat, but the profound moment is lost when Yvonne clears her throat uncomfortably and steps back.
“You’re hurt, Dawson,” she says flatly, her voice becoming stern, taking on the tone of a mother.
“I am hurt…” I relent softly, insinuating something else that pains me when she becomes cold again. “I am an alpha. I will heal quickly.”
“You should be resting at home,” she grunts under her breath, awkwardly removing her hands from my shoulders. When she takes a step back, her eyes go to my torso, but this time, she isn’t ogling.
She sighs and reluctantly lifts her eyes back to mine. “That needs a fresh wrap,” she says ruefully, then nods inside. “Come on. I have a medical kit in the bathroom.”
Hesitating as I brace a hand on the wall, I inadvertently brace myself for another series of verbal attacks, but to my surprise, they don’t come.
Yvonne is serious? I think as I watch her lead the way, stopping at the doorway that leads to the kitchen.
“Gio!” she calls out to her son. “Look who’s here to see you,” she says as she passes a wary glance at me as if to warn me to behave. “Why don’t you show Alpha Dawson to the pot. He can eat if he’s hungry.”
I have a feeling that comment was more for me than an instruction to the little boy, but I take what I can get, heading to the kitchen while Yvonne disappears toward the bathroom. For a hot second, I thought she was taking me with her, but we can’t have any privacy with a little kid around.
Not that I mind when the little boy rushes forward and grabs my hand to pull me into the kitchen. He shows me to a seat before excitedly returning to his, beaming from ear to ear as he points to my injury.
“What happen?” he inquires, propping his chin on one hand as his mother returns with the medical kit.
“It appears your hero bleeds,” Yvonne chuckles sarcastically as she sets the kit down with a deliberate thud and trains her penetrating eyes on me. “Why don’t you tell us how you got hurt today, Alpha Dawson?”
As Yvonne pulls up a chair beside me, I have every reason to believe that she wants me to humor Gio with the tale of my valiant fight against the bear only so that I keep talking while she’s patching me up.
Distracted with keeping Gio entertained, I wouldn’t have to notice the way she’s ogling me, checking me out as her fingertips casually brush across my ribcage.
It doesn’t stop me from catching small glimpses of her while she stitches up the wound, noticing that her breath hitches every time my muscles flex when she pierces the needle through my flesh.
She might not be ready to admit it, but Yvonne does remember what we shared. I’m sure of it. It’s just a matter of time before I get her to open up to me and reignite the passion we once shared.
In the meantime, it seems that her son is more open to the idea of having me around, paying keen attention to my tales of battle and combating wild animals in the forests of Alaska.
When Yvonne announces that she’s done, dashing off to the bathroom to return the first aid kit there, Gio grabs my arm and tugs me off the chair, then proceeds to lead me to the couch.
For a young boy, he’s quite smart and shows an ambitious interest in my stories.
“Tell more!” he demands excitedly as he sits on his knees beside me, tiny fists pounding his lap. “I wanna hear more!”
“Oh, aren’t you an eager little one?” I chuckle, a hesitant frown furrowing my brows for a split second when I recognize something in the little boy.
It’s evident that he’ll be a brave werewolf when he grows up, and it has me wondering if his father was an alpha.
It’s highly unlikely, since Yvonne was facing wickedness at the hands of the Moonshine Pack. Unless she was his mistress, or he died before he could announce their mate bond to the pack.
There are endless possibilities, and a pang of pity grips my chest as Yvonne returns to the kitchen, avidly avoiding us in the living room as she tends to the dishes. She must have gone through a lot.
But none of it matters now.
She’s back where she belongs, and I’ll be damned if I let her slip through my fingers again.
Smiling determinedly at Gio, I say, “Wanna hear about how I became alpha?”
The little boy nods eagerly, silver eyes glowing with excitement. “Tell me! Tell me!”
I chuckle as I settle more comfortably on the couch, not planning to leave anytime soon. Yvonne didn’t kick me out, so that was a good sign. Beneath that tough outer shell is the compassionate young woman I know her to be. It’s only a matter of time before she drops her guard.
“Now, Champion, where do I begin…?” I say thoughtfully, deciding to tell him about the alpha trials I went through to get to where I am now, hunting wild animals and a demonic force in the forests.
Perhaps it will ignite Yvonne’s admiration for me….