in half.
He sat on the forest floor, head in his hands. What a damn mess. Not only did he have Samantha to worry about, try to keep safe, keep his secret from her. His former pack hunting for him.
Memories surged. He’d lied about his parents, and siblings. Grayson hadn’t seen them in years. He didn’t know if they still lived.
Sometimes when the snow fell softly on the meadow, and he stood at the window studying the splash of silver moon, he thought of them. Remembered running with them in the winter, through the cold snow. Returning to their lodge, shifting back into human form and snuggling before the fire. His sisters would pass plates of cookies while they drank hot chocolate, and his brothers argued about who was the fastest. The arguments would end with his father telling tales of their family from long ago, when wolves ran wild and free through the west.
He missed the closeness of family, of knowing he belonged, of feeling warmth and joy.
He belonged to no one now.
At times like this, an acute ache settled on his chest. He would stare at the moon, feeling a slight comfort that they shared the same silvery light.
Then he would turn away from the wind crackling through the trees, the snow dancing across his porch. Grayson would drop the curtain, shutting away the light.
The memory tore at him with sharp claws. Agony raked across his stomach. He screamed as he felt himself torn asunder. And then as his body gave a great shudder, dark light spilling out of his fingers, he realized what had happened.
Too late, he thought dimly, and fainted.
Grayson had been inside the forest only minutes. But Samantha was worried.. The white light inside her surged, struggling to leave her body as if sensing a great need. She slammed it back, knowing that she needed all her strength for the walk ahead. But worry still riddled her, until Grayson emerged, his face its usual tanned color, his stride determined.
“Are you all right? That scream…you worried me,” she whispered.
“Let’s go,” he said tersely.
The woods were thick with pine, oak and aspen. Wan sunlight dappled the leafless branches, the dead leaves and twigs on the pathway. He didn’t talk, but walked at a breakneck pace. Samantha struggled to keep up.
The climb upward was arduous, the altitude burning her lungs with each breath. Thick forest became less dense, strewn with granite boulders. By the time they reached the summit of the mountain, she was winded, exhausted and hungry. Samantha leaned against a sapling, her fingers stiff and cold in the black leather gloves.
Grayson held out a palm. “Let’s go. If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you.”
She struggled to leash her temper at his impatience. “I don’t need your help. Just food.”
“Food’s in the cabin.”
“What’s on the other side of this mountain?”
“You won’t find out if we don’t move.”
The pathway led downward this time and then out onto a wide, open valley. Yellowed meadow grass met the stark, bare aspen saplings. Ringing the valley were the whitened peaks of the Rockies. The sky above was a sharp blue, showing the emptiness below, broken by a collapsed log cabin.
“It’s just ahead.” He increased his pace, making her breathe harder. A painful cramp seized her side. Samantha grabbed his arm to stop him.
“There’s nothing but an old ruin.”
But five minutes later, a two-story house with a pitched roof and floor-to-ceiling windows replaced the battered ruin. Samantha gasped, impressed. “How did that happen?”
“I told you, my magick is powerful. Bastards can never find you here.” He gave a little laugh, so different from his warm, throaty chuckle. This laugh sounded malicious.
The cabin was larger than his home, with soaring ceilings and a wide, open living space with a kitchen. Sheepskin rugs scattered over the pine floor. A bank of glass windows overlooked the meadow below, and French doors opened to a small balcony with tables and chairs.
He sat on the forest floor, head in his hands. What a damn mess. Not only did he have Samantha to worry about, try to keep safe, keep his secret from her. His former pack hunting for him.
Memories surged. He’d lied about his parents, and siblings. Grayson hadn’t seen them in years. He didn’t know if they still lived.
Sometimes when the snow fell softly on the meadow, and he stood at the window studying the splash of silver moon, he thought of them. Remembered running with them in the winter, through the cold snow. Returning to their lodge, shifting back into human form and snuggling before the fire. His sisters would pass plates of cookies while they drank hot chocolate, and his brothers argued about who was the fastest. The arguments would end with his father telling tales of their family from long ago, when wolves ran wild and free through the west.
He missed the closeness of family, of knowing he belonged, of feeling warmth and joy.
He belonged to no one now.
At times like this, an acute ache settled on his chest. He would stare at the moon, feeling a slight comfort that they shared the same silvery light.
Then he would turn away from the wind crackling through the trees, the snow dancing across his porch. Grayson would drop the curtain, shutting away the light.
The memory tore at him with sharp claws. Agony raked across his stomach. He screamed as he felt himself torn asunder. And then as his body gave a great shudder, dark light spilling out of his fingers, he realized what had happened.
Too late, he thought dimly, and fainted.
Grayson had been inside the forest only minutes. But Samantha was worried.. The white light inside her surged, struggling to leave her body as if sensing a great need. She slammed it back, knowing that she needed all her strength for the walk ahead. But worry still riddled her, until Grayson emerged, his face its usual tanned color, his stride determined.
“Are you all right? That scream…you worried me,” she whispered.
“Let’s go,” he said tersely.
The woods were thick with pine, oak and aspen. Wan sunlight dappled the leafless branches, the dead leaves and twigs on the pathway. He didn’t talk, but walked at a breakneck pace. Samantha struggled to keep up.
The climb upward was arduous, the altitude burning her lungs with each breath. Thick forest became less dense, strewn with granite boulders. By the time they reached the summit of the mountain, she was winded, exhausted and hungry. Samantha leaned against a sapling, her fingers stiff and cold in the black leather gloves.
Grayson held out a palm. “Let’s go. If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you.”
She struggled to leash her temper at his impatience. “I don’t need your help. Just food.”
“Food’s in the cabin.”
“What’s on the other side of this mountain?”
“You won’t find out if we don’t move.”
The pathway led downward this time and then out onto a wide, open valley. Yellowed meadow grass met the stark, bare aspen saplings. Ringing the valley were the whitened peaks of the Rockies. The sky above was a sharp blue, showing the emptiness below, broken by a collapsed log cabin.
“It’s just ahead.” He increased his pace, making her breathe harder. A painful cramp seized her side. Samantha grabbed his arm to stop him.
“There’s nothing but an old ruin.”
But five minutes later, a two-story house with a pitched roof and floor-to-ceiling windows replaced the battered ruin. Samantha gasped, impressed. “How did that happen?”
“I told you, my magick is powerful. Bastards can never find you here.” He gave a little laugh, so different from his warm, throaty chuckle. This laugh sounded malicious.
The cabin was larger than his home, with soaring ceilings and a wide, open living space with a kitchen. Sheepskin rugs scattered over the pine floor. A bank of glass windows overlooked the meadow below, and French doors opened to a small balcony with tables and chairs.
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