Charmed by the Wolf

by Kristal Hollis

  Tristan doubled his efforts, but so did Jaxen. They rolled beneath the broken window. Rain had slicked the floor. Tristan tried to gain footing but slipped. It was all the advantage Jaxen needed.

  Sharp teeth sank into the vulnerable spot at the back of Tristan’s neck. Jaxen taunted him, bearing down and easing up. Tristan heard heavy footsteps run up the porch.

  The door flew wide, shattering the frame.

  Jaxen released Tristan and launched at the armed man in the doorway. The gun fired, deafening.

  Yelping, Jaxen fell to the floor.

  “Durrance? Ms. Buchanan?” Locke stepped around the injured wolf, gun drawn on Tristan still in his wolf form. “Anyone here?”

  Exhausted and hurting like hell, Tristan pushed himself up. He wasn’t keen on shifting in front of Locke, especially when the sheriff had a weapon trained on him.

  “You stay put,” Locke said. “I’ll shoot you, if I have to.”

  Tristan believed him.

  “Durrance? Where are you?” Locke took a step, his head tilted, listening for a response.

  Tristan sensed, rather than saw the movement to his left. Barking, he sprung into the air, knocking Locke out of the way. Coming up beneath Jaxen while he was in midjump, Tristan clamped his jaws around the wolf’s throat and jerked.

  Both wolves thudded to the floor.

  Jaxen’s lifeless body returned to his human form.

  “Holy shit!” Locke stumbled backward.

  Tristan rolled to his paws and shifted. He stared up at his boss. “Don’t shoot. It’s me.”

  Darkness shrank his field of vision.

  “Durrance?”

  How did the sheriff get so far away?

  “Don’t you die on me, Durrance! You hear?”

  Tristan’s tongue felt too thick for his mouth. “Find Nel.” He hoped the sheriff wasn’t too far away to hear.

  * * *

  The pounding in Tristan’s head would drive him feral if it didn’t stop. His entire body felt weighted with lead and he’d spent an eternity trying to raise his eyelids. He sensed a presence close by, but it wasn’t Nel. He tried turning his thoughts inward to search for her but there was too much static in his mind.

  The antiseptic smell told him he was in the hospital. He had no recollection of how he got there or how long he’d been unconscious. Or what to expect when he opened his eyes.

  He marshaled his strength, forcing open his eyelids. A dim halogen light above the sink cast the room in a soft glow, easier on a wolfan’s eyes than bright, harsh fluorescence.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living.” Carl Locke folded the paper in his hands then lifted his booted feet off the upright bed rail.

  “Nel?”

  “Safe and resting,” the sheriff assured him. “Pyke had her tied up and gagged in the master bathroom.”

  “What are you doing here?” Tristan’s parched throat made his voice raspy.

  “You’re my deputy,” Locke said. “Injured in the line of duty. Where else would I be?”

  “Sheriff, I—” Words jumbled in Tristan’s mouth.

  How many times had he asked Gavin to confide in Locke? Now the secret was irretrievably out, Tristan would never have the sheriff’s trust or confidence again.

  “I’ve seen a lot of shit in my time.” Locke leaned forward in his chair. “I have to say, what I saw this afternoon was one hell of a doozie. I appreciate what you did to save my life.”

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “I called for a radio check. You never answered, so I had Carla ping the GPS on your truck,” Locke said. “A lot of the Co-op incidents are making sense now. One thing I realized is that you can’t keep doing everything on your own.”

  “Gavin said the same.”

  “I plan to have a sit-down with you and Gavin when you get out of here.”

  “Have you talked with Gavin?”

  “Hell, no.” Locke hmmphed. “I told Walker I’d get around to him after I talked to you.”

  Silence enveloped the room.

  Tristan was used to having his finger on the pulse of everything that was going on. Right now, he felt utterly useless.

  “He should’ve let me in on the Co-op’s little secret. It’s my job to protect all the citizens of Maico. Not just the human ones.” Locke sighed. “I’m a fair man, Tristan.”

  “I know, sir.” Locke was hard, but fair. “I told Gavin you were.”

  “Before or after I shot Rafe Wyatt’s wolf? Looking back, I guess it was really Rafe.” Locke scratched his cheek. “Feel damn bad about that now.”

  “It was only a tranq and Rafe doesn’t harbor any bad feelings toward you.” Of course, had Grace been hurt in the unfortunate incident, not even the Woelfesenat would’ve been able to stop Rafe’s retaliatory rage.

  Locke hit the call button.

  “Yes, Sheriff?” came an immediate response.

  “Tell Doc that Tristan is awake.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Has my family been notified about Jaxen?”

  “Gavin handled it.”

  There was a knock and Doc entered the room.

  “Take good care of my deputy.”

  “I always do.” Mouth in a grim line, Doc tipped his head as Locke left.

  “How’s Nel?”

  “She’s finally resting. Cassie and Grace are with her, so she isn’t alone.”

  “I want to see her.” Tristan threw off the hospital sheet.

  “Your ass will stay in that bed. You lost a lot of blood and I won’t have you passing out and frightening Nel all over again.”

  Tristan ceased struggling to get out of the bed and Doc made sure none of the IV lines had kinked or pulled loose.

  “Reach out to her through the mate-bond,” Doc said. “It will soothe you both.”

  Tristan closed his eyes, willing his mind to settle and his being to connect with Nel. In a moment, a familiar essence ebbed into him like a gentle tide.

  Nel.

  Despite the easygoing manner he projected, Tristan’s world had been harsh, cold and barren until she came into his life.

  He craved her softness. Her warmth. Her tender resilience.

  She was spring to his winter.

  But in the end, winter eventually destroyed the beauty of spring. It was the nature of things.

  No matter how civilized they pretended to be, Wahyas were wolves in human skin. For them, the brutality of what happened was merely the inevitable outcome. It could not have ended any other way. Once Jaxen threatened Nel, Tristan had to put him down. It was simply the wolfan circle of life.

  Humans, on the other hand, had a need to reconcile, restore, even to redeem.

  And, Nel was such a gentle soul. A childhood trauma gave her a creative outlet, he didn’t want one to take it all away. Eventually, it would.

  He’d claimed Nel without her permission, gotten her pregnant. Because of him, Jaxen kidnapped her. How much more could she endure before the resentment germinated and blossomed into hatred?

  Then and there, he knew.

  No matter the cost to him, Tristan had to be the better man. He had to make a different choice.

  He had to let Nel go.

  * * *

  “A mistake?” A sharp pain pierced Nel’s heart. And it wasn’t from the exertion of helping Tristan up three flights of stairs. She should’ve known something was wrong when he insisted on coming to the apartment instead of returning to the cabin.

  “You think our being together is a mistake?” Nel tucked her fisted hands beneath her arms. “That our baby is a mistake?”

  “No, I would never say our child is a mistake.” Tristan rubbed his temple. “I will do everything I can to
provide for you and the baby. But us, as a couple...” He shook his head. “I can’t do it right now. It’s best that you go back to Atlanta. My mother’s birth pack will take you in. They’ll help you when I can’t.”

  “I don’t understand. You claimed me. I thought that was a permanent deal.”

  “We’ll always be connected, especially since we’ve created a child. Consider the separation like a divorce.”

  “I don’t want a divorce, Tristan. I want always and forever. I love you.”

  “Think of all that’s happened, Nel. Your emotions have been in a heightened state. When everything settles down, you might feel completely different.”

  “I won’t.” Nel sat beside him on the couch. “I don’t want you because you bit me or because I got pregnant. I want you because you make me laugh, you encourage me to try new things and you hold my hand when I do. You’re the first person I want to talk to when I have good news, bad news or no news at all.” She didn’t want to do this without him.

  Tristan’s gaze searched her face. “I’ve never felt what I feel for you but you don’t understand the odds we’re facing.”

  “Why can’t the odds be for us?”

  “Because they aren’t.” Tristan cradled her face, his thumb softly strumming her cheek.

  Nel stood. “I care for you more than I’ve cared for anyone since my parents died, but I won’t beg to be part of your life. If you don’t want me, so be it. I spent my entire life in a holding pattern until you helped me find my momentum. I have to keep moving forward.”

  If she didn’t, she’d end up right where she started. Nowhere. She had to keep going, even if it meant leaving Tristan behind.

  Heart breaking, she kissed his forehead. Emotion swirled in his gaze as a tear leaked from his eye.

  “Goodbye, Tristan.”

  Chapter 36

  The sealed silver urn grew heavy between Tristan’s jaws as he trotted carefully through the forest.

  Nearly a week had passed since the fight that killed Jaxen, and every muscle in Tristan’s body still ached. Especially his heart.

  While Ruby and his parents attended the small memorial at the Co-op’s cemetery, Tristan carefully carried his cousin’s remains to his actual final resting place.

  Wolfans chose cremation over burial, believing the spreading of ashes in a favored spot was more natural than being trapped in a box six feet under for all eternity.

  The memorial at the cemetery was merely a tradition adopted from humans, giving families a place to mourn their loss.

  Stunned beyond words didn’t come close to how Tristan felt when Ruby had told him he was to take Jaxen to his final resting place—a small cave they’d called their fort when they played as kids. They’d spent many happy afternoons there, playing, wrestling, being the best of friends.

  Before the accident.

  The accident that had nearly blinded him and opened his eyes to the type of person his cousin really was.

  Tristan’s nails dug into the soft, damp ground. The musky scent of moss and earth twitched his nose. Tall, thin pines stretched high into the sky, blocking all but a faint splattering of sunshine. The air was still, but not stagnant, and slightly cooler than the open areas warmed by the summer sun.

  He loped down the incline into a small ravine and jumped the rotted logs scattered around the clearing where Jaxen used to chase him, building Tristan’s speed and agility.

  Jaxen had also taught him to track and hunt. Harming any creature inside the sanctuary was strictly forbidden. Jax had never cared for rules and killed his prey for the sport, but Tristan never had the heart to do the same.

  He hadn’t returned to the fort since the accident. Still, he knew exactly where to step, where to turn and which veil of vines to nudge aside to find the secret opening.

  The ground inside the small cave had been recently disturbed. Large paw prints marred the soft dirt, as did human feet.

  Emotion burning his throat, Tristan wondered if Jaxen had come here to reminisce, to remember when they weren’t enemies—or if that time only existed in Tristan’s mind.

  He carefully set the urn on the ground and flopped beside it. The cold hard ground against his belly and chest was a welcome relief from the heat clinging to his fur. He panted in the cool, dank air, his body temperature dropping.

  I never wanted things to end like this.

  He stared at the silver urn.

  Both of them unable to get past their anger, unable to forgive, they failed each other.

  Dammit, Jaxen! We could’ve done better than this. I should’ve done better.

  Tristan pushed to his paws and dug furiously until his shoulder muscles ached from fatigue. He shifted into his human form. Hands black, dirt jammed deep beneath his nails, he reverently picked up the silver urn and removed the lid. Wordlessly, he emptied Jaxen’s ashes into the deep hole.

  Tristan stared at the thick gray dust until his eyes were dry and itchy, the salty moisture on his face had dried and the filtered light outside the cave grew dim. He removed the old photo taped to the bottom of the urn. Lightly, Tristan traced his finger over the two tawny-headed boys, smiling big for the camera.

  Acid scalded a throat already raw with too much emotion.

  He dropped the photo onto the ashes and shoved the dirt back into the hole.

  Obligation fulfilled, he shifted into his wolf and padded slowly to the mouth of the cave, then paused.

  After several long moments, he looked over his shoulder at the makeshift grave.

  Rest in peace, Jaxen.

  Tristan nudged aside the hanging vines and started the long, lonely walk to an empty home.

  Chapter 37

  “Don’t give up.” Cassie sat on the bed while Nel packed. “Tristan will figure everything out, and when he does, nothing will keep him away from you.”

  “We had fun for a while, but maybe that’s all it should be.”

  No matter how much Nel believed their relationship had meaning, if Tristan didn’t, it was a moot point.

  “It was more than fun and games for Tristan. I’ve never seen him be with someone the way he was with you.”

  “He shut me out, Cassie. I know he’s hurting, but if he wanted something real, something lasting, he would let me be there for him.”

  “Don’t give up, Nel. More than anything, he needs your faith.”

  “Where is his faith in me?”

  Cassie rolled her lips together before answering. “He doesn’t know how, Nel. He’s never been able to rely on his family. His best friend was murdered, and Jaxen used to be like a brother to Tristan. I think Jaxen’s death put Tristan in a tailspin. He’s pushing you away to protect you.” Cassie tucked a red curl behind her ear. “Give him just enough space to catch his breath, but not enough to lose sight of you.”

  “How?”

  “You’re pregnant, so there’s no doubt about the mate-claim. Even though Tristan is pretending it isn’t bonding you, I think it is.” Cassie patted the mattress for Nel to sit. “Have you ever sensed Tristan’s presence or heard his voice in your head when he wasn’t around?”

  “Yes, and I know Tristan sensed me. That’s how he found me when Jaxen took me.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Does it have something to do with the mate-claim?”

  “Nope.” Cassie grinned. “What you and he experienced is a mate-bond, and it only develops between true mates. When Wahyas fall truly in love, a special connection forms between the wolfan and the person they love. It’s a psychic connection on every possible level. It’s why you can hear him, feel him.”

  “Tristan has never told me that he loves me.”

  “Maybe not in words, but Nel, Tristan looks at you the same way Brice looks at me and Rafe looks at Grace.”
r />   “Really?”

  Cassie nodded. “That man loves you to the moon and back. He’s involved you in very personal parts of his life. Parts he hasn’t allowed anyone else into.”

  “A lot of good that did me. I still ended up dumped.”

  “Nel, nothing I say will convince you of anything. Trust your instincts and have faith in Tristan. Use the mate-bond to tell him every day how much you love him and miss him. If you don’t, you’ll be turning your back on something really wonderful.”

  It sounded kinda out there to Nel, but then again, so was the existence of werewolves.

  What could it hurt to try? She’d already lost one family due to tragic circumstances. She didn’t want to lose another.

  * * *

  Something poked Tristan’s ribs.

  “Tristan. You hear me?” Ruby’s stern voice ricocheted inside his head.

  His gut clenched, along with his jaw.

  “Yeah, you hear me,” she said.

  At least she finally stopped poking him.

  He scooted up in the chair, where he’d fallen asleep.

  “Don’t forget, my toilet is running again. You need to fix it.”

  “I can’t do it today.” Tristan dragged his gaze over to his aunt finishing the lunch he’d made for her.

  They had yet to talk about the circumstances of Jaxen’s death and it had been nearly a month.

  “That water’s gonna keep on running,” she huffed. “Can’t sleep with all that racket.”

  “I can’t sleep, either, Ruby. I haven’t for weeks.” Since Nel had returned to Atlanta, Tristan only seemed to sleep in snatches. She filled his dreams, his waking thoughts. He couldn’t get the damn woman off his mind.

  “Nightmares?”

  “No, why?”

  “You had them for a while when you were a kid, and again after you fell off that boulder.”

  Tristan wiped his palm over his khaki-clad thigh. “I didn’t fall, Ruby. Jaxen pushed me. He said I was the reason his father was dead. It’s why he took Nel and why I had to do what I did to protect her.”

  “Neither of you boys were ever supposed to know what happened.” Ruby squinted at him. “Orwell’s death was his own fault. Not yours, Tristan. He was a hard man to love, even harder to live with.