Wandering Off the Path by Willa Edwards Page B

with a surprising empathy. She must have sensed something in his words, in his tone, but she didn’t ask.
    Wolf turned away from her, the vulnerability of her sweet amber gaze meeting his own too much to take. He picked up his cup and drowned the entire portion in one gulp, the wine burning down his throat. He’d given up all that when he’d found his family’s cold bodies. After the men who had intended to kill him had beaten his wife and daughter to death, and believed they’d left him to the same fate. He’d vowed he’d never again be the catalyst of someone else’s harm, and with Abigail’s open loving heart and trusting nature, she’d be all too easy to hurt.
    Abigail curved her hand around his cheek, gently redirecting his expression to meet her eyes. Her gaze captured him, unwilling to allow him to hide behind sadness, fear or rage.
    “I can see the sadness in you, too.” She combed her fingers through his hair, pushing the strands away from his face. “Did you lose someone as well?”
    When he didn’t respond, she pulled back slightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Her words dripped with genuine concern as she apologised, her head cast down.
    Wolf couldn’t remember the last time someone had been concerned about offending him, since anyone had shown interest in how he’d become the animal he was, instead of writing him off as the big, bad Wolf. He deserved what he got. His family had suffered far greater than he had. He’d created his own fate and no weak-hearted maid could change that, no matter if she should want to. Yet the simple gesture made him want to show her all of him, even the darkness.
    “My family…” he continued, not acknowledging her concern, but rewarding her affection. Pain stabbed at his ribs. His lungs burned with his struggle to breathe against the ache. He hated talking about his family. He hated being reminded of all the pain he’d brought them for nothing, all the damage he’d caused because he was too young and stupid to know better. “They were taken from me. It was my fault they were harmed, my fault they were put in danger’s path.” His voice filled with anger and regret. “After they were gone, darkness overtook me. The woods were the only place that would accept me.”
    She stretched her other arm around him, brushing his back, soothing his aching spirit with each caress. There’d been too little comfort in his life. He shouldn’t place that burden on her, of soothing a man as troubled as he, but it felt too good in her arms to pull away.
    He leaned into her touch, allowing her further access. He didn’t want her to ever let go. He couldn’t ask for so much. Certainly not when he had nothing to give in return.
    “Is that why you followed me? You saw the same darkness in me.” Her words quivered with a fine tremor of fear.
    He looked up, surprised. He searched her eyes, gauging the seriousness of her question. Her head dropped timidly, her fingers tightened anxiously in the folds of her crimson cloak. Not because of him, as it should have been, but directed towards herself.
    The realisation astonished him—she couldn’t truly believe that. No darkness hollowed her heart. This woman, who wanted to comfort a stranger, who offered him understanding, compassion and sympathy, didn’t have any evil fibre within her.
    Not like he did. Not like he always would. She was better than he’d ever be. Better than he’d ever been.
    “Abigail.” He used his fiercest tone to command her attention. “You’re not dark. You’re full of light, innocence and sweetness. That’s what lured me to speak to you, to tempt you off the path. But it’s not what brought me here.”
    Abigail’s mouth quirked, as if a question hovered on the tip of her tongue, but he stopped her with a glare. He wouldn’t let her interrupt, not before he’d said all he needed to, not before he’d told her the full truth. “It was your curiosity that drove me here. The spark