While she watched, the gallery had changed from darkness to a hive of activity, but there was no sign of him. Kurt wasn’t here. If he was, she would feel it, she was sure. When he had been in her care she had felt a trickle of excitement run down her spine, the small hairs rising as her skin begged to be touched by him when he was close.
She has shut her longing away, knowing it was a fantasy; he was her patient, and felt nothing for her. Maybe he was too damaged to feel the bond between them. Or maybe the whole thing was a figment of her overactive imagination. She was probably screwed up from treating so many shifters who had lost control of their other side.
Nadine had always known she was different. That was why she took on the job of treating other shifters. In all her years of experience, Kurt was the first one to actually touch her in any meaningful way. She was sure it was the mating bond, but it was supposed to work two ways. And he gave her nothing to work with.
Other people began to arrive, filling the gallery and looking at his paintings, the paintings she had encouraged him to paint. It had been wonderful to watch him blossom from an animal who grunted in answer to questions to the man who could paint a wolf so realistic you could reach out and touch it. She wanted to look at them once more, and the pull of the gallery, even minus its tortured artist, was too much.
You are going to regret this, she thought, as she rushed across the road, hat held firmly down on her head, with her free hand clutching her coat to her throat to ward off the autumn chill. The evening was getting late, and she told her internal voice that she would take a look and then get out of there. Ten minutes and she would have satisfied her curiosity and be gone. No harm: he would never know.
“Hello, welcome to the gallery,” a young woman said, offering her a glass of wine and a catalogue.
“Thank you.” She wanted to ask if Kurt was going to make an appearance, but she couldn’t say his name without the voice in her head screaming for him. Yes, definitely a sign of her own insanity. It was why she had trained to help those who were stuck in their animal form.
Because she was stuck in her human form.
Silencing her inner voice, she sipped her wine and made her way over to the first paintings. The mountain, of course, he had told her about it while he painted, his brush flying over the canvas as if he could purge the memories from his mind. Had it worked?
Moving on to the next paintings, she looked at images of wolves, single wolves, their coats thick, snow covering them to turn them white. A pack, all howling. None of himself. She had seen him as a wolf, had scars to prove it. Unconsciously, she touched her arm, the marks where his claws had gouged at her skin a permanent reminder of her mate. His attack hadn’t put her off helping him, though; it was why she was there. To help. Slowly he had begun to trust her. Slowly she had drawn the man back from the brink of insanity.
More paintings of mountains, forests. Nature at its most beautiful, at its fiercest. The chatter of excited voices told her how well his paintings were being received, and an increasing number of sold stickers were appearing as they were snapped up. But one seemed to draw more attention than the rest and she moved towards it, eager to see what masterpiece he had created, what appealed to everyone here.
The wine glass nearly slipped from her hand. Only because she was frozen with shock did she hold on to it. With an open mouth, she stood and stared at the face looking back at her. What did it mean? Had she touched him in some way? How else could he have captured her likeness so keenly?
Because he knows what we are, the voice in her head said. However, Nadine didn’t know what she was. That was the problem: she wasn’t anything, not really. Unable to experience the shift from human to animal, she was as screwed up as the people she treated. The two parts of herself were cut off from each other, unable to bridge the gap to become one. Just like her and her mate.
She knew she should leave, but it was impossible. She couldn’t drag herself away. If she stared hard enough she thought she could see right through to her soul. Was it her imagination? Because in the eyes that looked back at her, she swore she could see her other self, her animal.
“Stunning, isn’t it?” a man beside her said, pulling her back from her trance.
She turned, hoping her hat covered her hair completely, because any stray strand would give her away. Kurt had captured the colour and tone of her hair, the way the light reflected on it, bringing out the fiery auburn streak which ran along the strands at the front where she had been touched by the devil himself, her mom used to say.
“Yes … Yes, it is?”
“Shame it’s not for sale, he could have sold it ten times.”
“It…it’s not?” she stammered like a fool. Talk about drawing attention to yourself.
“No. My wife tells me he’s got another ten like it in his cabin. Same woman, but won’t sell a single one. Still, the rest of the collection has sold well.” He smiled at her. “I’m Joel, by the way.”
“Hi, Joel.” She didn’t offer her name. And she wasn’t going to ask who his wife was. She wasn’t going to do this to herself. “Your wife knows the artist well?”
“My wife is Kurt’s sister. She’ll be along any minute now. She went to drag him out of his cabin. He had been OK with the exhibition up until two hours ago, and then he got cold feet.” Joel smiled amiably as other viewers, trying to get a look at the painting, jostled her.
“He’s coming here?” she squeaked, trying to cover it by clearing her throat and swallowing a large gulp of wine.
“If my sister can coax him out. He’s a bit of a recluse.”
“Oh, why’s that?” she asked. Nadine had hoped he had got over his need to stay away from other people. When she saw the poster for the exhibition, she had hoped it meant he was fully recovered, but he wasn’t.
At least he has left the hospital, she comforted herself.
Joel remembered himself, perhaps realising his indiscretion, and said quickly, “You know how poor, tortured artists are. Anything to look more mysterious for their fans.”
“Oh, of course. Well, I should move on,” she said. More like get out of there. Nadine knew it would be appallingly bad judgement for her to be here when he arrived. She didn’t know how he would behave. What happened if, because of her presence at the gallery, his wolf appeared while he was standing in front of all of these people?
“Nice to meet you…” He left the sentence hanging for her to fill in her name.
“Nice to meet you too, Joel.” Other people were crowding around now, and she knew this was her cue to leave. Nadine allowed herself to be jostled backwards, away from him; she simply shrugged her shoulders and let herself be taken along with the steady flow.
Only when she stopped did she have the sudden realisation that she had left it too late. He was here.
Pulling her hat down, she heard the excited chatter as he came in. She risked a sideways glance, but he was already moving through the crowds, practically pushing them out of the way. He was heading for the painting and she could tell by the look on his face, wild and unstable, that he knew she was here.
Nadine moved towards the door. It took all of her strength; her inner voice was arguing with her to go back. The hidden creature inside her was grasping at the edge of her consciousness, fighting for control. She fought it and won and, with one final surge, she was out on the street, breathless, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath.
This new image of him had branded itself onto her brain; he looked so much healthier, toned and muscular. He had allowed his deep russet brown hair to grow longer, and her fingers itched to run through the long shoulder length strands. To touch his tanned face and see those amber eyes of his burn with desire. Stop it!
Getting hold of herself firmly, she took off at a slow jog up the street, not knowing a pair of eyes had watched her strange behaviour and had guessed her secret.
Chapter Three – Kurt
She was there. Somewhere amongst the crowd of people looking at
his paintings was his mate. Rushing through the gallery, unseen faces looking at him as he pushed them aside, he sought her out. He could sense her, he could smell her, and it was this scent trail his wolf led him along now.
“Kurt, what are you doing?” Joel was there, in front of her painting, looking concerned. “The people here are buying your paintings. You need to get a grip and talk to them.
“She was here,” he said, looking around, dazed by the scent of her. “I know she was. I can smell her.”
“You need to calm down and get ahold of yourself, people are staring at you.” Joel touched his shoulder, patting him, trying to get him to calm down.
“But I know I didn’t imagine it.” Kurt tried to focus on Joel.
“Just make your speech, thank everyone for coming and for their generosity, and then we can talk.” Joel got Kurt to focus, nodding in encouragement. “Just talk to the people around you. You can do this.”
His sister’s husband, Joel, was a good man. A bear shifter from Bear Creek, the town next to Wolf Valley; it was thanks to him and Mia that this whole exhibition was taking place. For that reason, Kurt knew he had to pull himself together. His sister had only just started speaking to him again, and he didn’t want to lose her again.
“Right,” he said, taking a deep breath and trying to compartmentalise his thoughts just as he had been taught. He had to try not to think about her; he had to shut that part of him away for now.
Mia came towards them, looking worried. He knew he had embarrassed her and now he had to make amends. Taking control of himself, particularly his wolf, which wanted to run out of there as fast as it could to pick up the scent of their mate, he smiled and then kissed her on the cheek.
“Sorry, Mia. Deer in the headlights syndrome,” he said smiling. It felt false on his lips, but he had to try to get a grip of his sanity.
“You had me worried for a moment. I thought you were going to run straight out of the back door,” she said, studying his face.
“There’s a back door?” he joked.
“Funny. Now say your piece and then we can relax. Apparently, you have already sold twelve paintings. The owner is calling it a success, so as long as you don’t screw this up, you’ll be invited back.”
“Great,” he said. At least his mom would be happy he had made some money to ease their financial position. She would be able to stop worrying and relax. A thing he wished he could do now, instead of the feeling of fear that was creeping up his spine. He was about to speak in front of all of these people when he would much rather be out there, tracking his mate.
The face of his nameless mate swam in front of his eyes. He opened the box in his brain and held her hand while she climbed in it and then he shut the lid. He had to function normally for the next two hours. And he couldn’t do it with her invading his every thought, tickling his every sense.
Chapter Four – Nadine
Nadine stopped herself from looking behind as she ran. She had to put some distance between them, to shut him out. For his sake, she kept telling herself, it was purely for his sake—as if that made it easier.
A safe distance away she slowed to a walk, wondering if it would be wise to go and find somewhere to get some coffee before she drove home, although she knew it wasn’t the wine that was making her feel light-headed. It was Kurt and the need to be with him, a need that infiltrated her body and soul.
Not trusting herself to stay away from him, she went to her car and got in, catching her breath and silencing her brain before she put the key in the ignition and started the engine. Pulling out slowly, she headed out of the city. Along the country road leading to her home, she passed the signs for Wolf Valley, but she resolutely drove on. She lived in a small house nestled in the woods between Bear Bluff and Cougar Ridge. It had been her home and her sanctuary for the past ten years, but there was nowhere safe from the pull of her mate.
Growing up, she had always lived in between everything and everyone. Neither shifter nor human, not fully, she had never fit in and never achieved her full potential, as her mom often told her. What she meant was Nadine had never been able to transform into the other side of herself. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t there, she could feel it and hear it; she simply couldn’t grasp hold of it and change. And then her fear became that if she ever did change, she would not be able to change back.
Being presented with this conundrum had given her a purpose, and so she had pursued psychology as a career, tailoring it to helping those who were like her. Stuck. Mainly her work involved helping those who had shifted and couldn’t come back, those like Kurt. And she was good at it, really good.
But one of her rules was not to get involved with anyone, other than on a professional level. It saved her a lot of heartache. She knew patients became too reliant on her; she became their security blanket. It was harmful in itself, but especially if it was allowed to fester into something deep and meaningful. She was there to help them overcome their problems and then move on.
Nadine was always moving on, so that her patients didn’t realise what a fake she was. Because let’s face it, if she were any good at this psycho mumbo jumbo, she would be able to control her other side. And she couldn’t.
“Damn!” She braked hard. Something had run across the road in front of her and she thought she had hit it.
Opening the car door, she got out, fearing the worst. The car had thudded into something, and she only hoped if it was an animal, it wasn’t one with a human side too. That would be just awful. She edged around the car, relieved to see no one on the road, no one bleeding out on the asphalt. Nothing.
Relieved but mystified, she walked towards the back of the car, leaning down to look at what she had hit. There: a rock, someone had dropped a rock in the road and she had gone over it. Hoping there was no damage done to her car, she got back in and pulled her car forward, enabling her to pick the rock up and drop it onto the ground on the side of the road. She didn’t want anyone else to drive over it.
Only when she turned back to the car, did she realise she was being ambushed.
“Hello there,” a voice said. It belonged to a man, tall, broad, and trouble.
“Hi,” she said, keeping her voice calm. She would talk her way out of this. She understood enough about how people’s brains worked, and she could deal with this. Surely.
“You having a bit of trouble?” Had she been wrong, had he stopped by to help—if so, where was his car? Maybe he had shifted and been running in this direction when he saw her headlights stop, and come over to help.
However, something about him was off. Nadine was certain he meant her harm.
“No, everything is fine, thank you,” she said, trying to figure out whether to make a run for her car or the hills. But he was sure to be faster than she was at running. Although reasonably fit, she carried a few extra pounds in all the right places, whereas he was toned and looked as if he could easily run for miles. Her instincts told her he was a wolf.
“Are you sure, because it looks as though you are having car trouble.” He came closer, standing right by the open door of her car and she cursed her stupidity—she had left her keys in the ignition while she got out and checked the road.
Now she had a choice, did she try to bluff her way out, or what? What else could she do?
“Thanks again,” she said, walking back around to where he stood with his hand on her door. Smiling, she kept her breathing even and all traces of panic from her voice. She knew how to play this game; she often had to keep calm no matter what was going on around her in order to keep her patients calm.
“No, problem, I would hate for you to be a damsel in distress with no knight in shining armour to help you.” He took a deep breath—was he scenting her, smelling her fear? Swallowing, trying to keep her heart from racing, she slipped into the car seat, relieved when he shut the door for her and stood back.
Not bothering with her seatbelt—she would fix it once she had got away from him—she turned the key, holdi
ng her breath while the engine turned over. She had no idea if he had tampered with it while she was moving the rock. But he hadn’t had chance to lift the hood, so it must all be fine. Still, it was somewhat of a relief when the engine fired into life and she drove off, lifting her hand as a thank-you gesture. He watched her, eyes sparkling in the night, a green glow shimmering across them, and by the time she drew past him and looked in her mirror, he was gone.
Nadine trembled. That had to be the weirdest thing she had ever experienced, and she had seen a lot of weird stuff.
Watching the road carefully, just in case there were more rocks in her path, she drove slowly home, wanting to put as much distance between her and the wolf, but knowing if she hit a larger rock at speed, she would damage the car and be stranded, that didn’t bear thinking about.
As the miles drifted by, and the road began to narrow, following the twists and turns of the mountain, she put it all behind her, until she heard the unmistakable sound of a flat tire. At first, it was just a small noise, different, but as the air escaped, the sound and the way the car held the road told her she was going to have to pull over.
Glancing around, she recognised the part of the forest she was in. It went on for another mile or so before it opened out again. It was maybe another mile after that until she would reach her house.
There was no way this was a coincidence. The guy she met on the road must have tampered with her tire, which meant he would know she would not get home and be stranded on the road.
“Damn it,” she cursed and pushed her driver’s door open, getting out as quickly as she could. Grabbing her purse, she locked the car and then melted into the trees. It might have been the wrong choice, but she knew she was too exposed out there on the road whilst changing the tire. It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it, but she didn’t have the luxury of time.
She knew the way through the woods well enough. But had never attempted it in the dark. Everything seemed different, as though she had stepped into another world. Her heart beat rapidly, the sound thundering in her ears as she climbed steadily higher. After ten minutes, she slowed, trying to regain her breath and her composure. With no one pursuing her, she figured she had completely overreacted; the flat tire was just a coincidence and no one was after her.
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