by T. S. Joyce
“When I figured out the Big Bad Wolf would probably understand me better than anyone else in my pack. Our makers were both monsters. Rachel told me about yours. I know I’m a freak so it’s nice to have another freak around for company.” She smiled and threw a french fry at him. “The food here is awful, by the way.”
His steak sandwich did smell a little ripe. He chuckled, pushed his plate away and then flagged the waitress and asked for the check. If Marissa could brave telling him about her past, he could stand taking her to the Italian bistro down the street that he and Morgan had frequented. Memories be damned. After everything she’d been through, Marissa at the very least deserved a decent meal.
And as they left, he paused right outside the door, and pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. He texted Morgan three important words, but not an I love you. She didn’t need that right now.
I’m still here. Send.
Chapter Five
Naked trees lined the long gravel drive to Dean’s house, their dry, crackling cover now blanketing the forest floor below. The color of fall leaves had turned to the grays and browns that now painted the landscape in a messy, muted winter canvas. The shocks on Morgan’s truck were decent, but still, potholes that had been washed out in the rain threatened to swallow her oversized tires. They were so deep, she could fish in them. Around another curve, Dean and Rachel’s house came into view, as beautiful as the first time she’d seen it two months ago. God, it felt like so much longer.
A cream-colored wolf with a darker saddle across her back ran through the woods adjacent to the road. Not sprinting, not trotting, but maintaining a speed that kept her beside the truck.
Morgan smiled and looked in the rearview to see if Lana had seen Marissa’s wolf. The little girl had her hand pressed against the glass of the window, and a smile curved her plump cheeks.
“Is Grey going to be here today?” she asked, just like she always did.
Gripping the wheel, Morgan dragged her gaze back to the road ahead of her. “No, baby. We won’t see Grey today.”
When she dared a glance at her niece again, the smile had faded from the child’s face and her lips were puckered slightly.
I’m doing the right thing, she reminded herself as she pulled to a stop in front of the baby-blue Victorian-style home. Silver Wolf or not, it was her responsibility to find someone who wanted her because she was Morgan Carter. Not because he was obligated to take care of some ancient werewolf curse. And that’s exactly what being a Silver Wolf was—a curse. No one in their right mind would ever wish to be what she was.
If no man ever filled that space and loved her for who she was, she was okay with raising Lana by herself. She would be damned if she taught her to settle for a half-love. Sure, she would live an entire lifetime pining for Grey, but it was her responsibility to herself and to Lana to marry for the right reasons. Morgan’s sister, Marianna, had been her hero for mothering Lana like she had, and independent of the child’s deadbeat father. Morgan could be strong enough to carry on Marianna’s legacy and wait for the right person to complete her makeshift family.
At least that’s what she told herself. Lately, she felt trapped. She yearned to be around him, so she made the excuse to come to Dean’s house to Change. She’d tried to convince herself it was because Dean had lots of land and she was comfortable here, but what did she do every time she Changed? Her wolf went immediately searching for Grey’s scent. She lived for finding his stops and napping places in the woods.
Nights were the hardest. She missed sleeping beside him, and some evenings, after Lana was tucked up safely in bed, she couldn’t stop crying. She had spiraled. Hell, she was probably still spiraling, but desperation to hide her heartbreak from Lana made her stronger somehow. Still, she missed the way he smelled. The crisp spiciness of his shaving cream in the mornings, the clean scent of his skin, the piney woods, and always, always, the smell of animal, subtle, delicious and alluring and burned into her memory so completely, it visited her dreams.
In her weakest moments, she would pull out pictures of them together and fold them until the background was cropped out. The picture didn’t need filler when he was there, smiling or looking at the camera lens with the intensity she’d grown to love. And his eyes, golden and burning when they fell on her, thickened her throat until it was impossible to breathe any time she imagined him.
She parked the truck in front of Dean’s house and inhaled, long and slow. The ache in her bones had been humming for two days, and the anticipation of the pain of Changing had her hands shaking. Sometimes, she wished he’d never come back for her. That he’d never found her again and that she was still naïve of the existence of the supernatural.
She wouldn’t have known love, the real, consuming, burning-like-the-sun-above kind of love, but she would be safe, and human, and Lana wouldn’t be waving at a werewolf out the window and chanting, “Rissa, Rissa.”
And more importantly than all of it, she wouldn’t have these memories of Grey to torture her.
Weakly, she pulled out her phone and read the simple text for the hundredth time.
I’m still here.
She didn’t know why, but that text had taken all of the pressure and strain and weight right off her chest. It had replaced the ache with something more important—hope.
What did it mean that he hadn’t given up on her?
Rachel waved from the porch swing and Morgan shoved her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, and pushed the driver’s side door open. A paperback hung from her friend’s hand as she stood and waited by the stairs.
“I thought you’d be here earlier,” Rachel said in a conversational tone.
“Yeah, I got a rush order and had to design and print and then mail it before I came out.”
A knowing smile spread across Rachel’s pretty features. “Your bones are singing for a Change, aren’t they?”
She lifted Lana down from her car seat with a grunt. “Is it that obvious?”
Marissa had disappeared into the woods and she scanned the yard for any other wolves.
“He’s not here,” Rachel called out.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Morgan muttered, approaching the porch.
“You always look for Grey when you come here. I know. I see it.”
Morgan didn’t know how to respond, so she didn’t. Just watched Lana scurry up the stairs to a beetle making his way across one of the floorboards.
“He doesn’t come around anymore,” Rachel offered.
“That’s not any of my business,” she murmured. Not at all, but any tidbit of information was too tempting to ignore. She chewed the corner of her lip and then carefully asked, “Why doesn’t he?”
Rachel shrugged. “He won’t talk to me or even Wade. He calls Dean from time to time but keeps his reasons close to him.” She inhaled and looked at the rafters above her. “Maybe this place just isn’t home to him anymore.”
Morgan had been wrong. Information about him didn’t help at all. Instead, it cut her more deeply. “It’s really hard staying away from him.”
Rachel’s dark eyes were soft and sad, and she nodded her head in a way that said she understood. Dipping down, she caught Lana as the little girl gave up on the beetle and ran for her. “I’ve got some fun stuff planned for you today.”
“Like what?” Lana asked excitedly.
“I just realized I bought way too much glitter at the hobby store to ever use myself. And none of the grumpy boys around here will help me, so I thought maybe you could use some of it for me.” Rachel gave a small wave and took Lana inside.
Geez, Rachel was going to brave glitter around Lana? The woman was basically a saint. Hopefully she had a good vacuum cleaner.
The yard was empty as she rounded the corner of the house and ambled for Grey’s old favorite changing place. He’d never showed it to her, but she had smelled him behind the brush on the edge of the sod for a couple of weeks until his scent had disappeared. It had
been devastating the day she’d come and all traces of him had been gone. Still, she changed there because it gave her some sense of comfort that he’d been there. Sometimes, she pretended he was kneeling beside her when the pain was so unbearable, she thought surely she would die alone there.
Modestly, she glanced around the yard again before removing her clothing. Sure, nudity was as commonplace as clothing for wolves, but she hadn’t eased into that part of her new life quite yet. She took comfort in the knowledge that Marissa and Rachel seemed to be more modest than the others as well. On several occasions, Logan, Brent and Jason had strutted around the premises with their tender bits dangling freely in the breeze and cocky smiles on their faces. The men looked like they all belonged on some sexy magazine cover, making this entire mess all the more intimidating. She swore they either did it on purpose to make her uncomfortable, or to desensitize her to chiseled, Adonis-like bodies completely. Stupid nudist werewolves.
At least Grey wasn’t around, flaunting his tight abs and perfect arms and those little indentions that ran down his hips into the waistband of his sweats that she wanted to trace with her fingernail. Grey naked would be too much. Oh, she still remembered exactly what sex with him was like. One peekaboo ab and she would be laid out on the ground, legs open like a dog in heat.
She was stalling.
“Come on, Morgan. You can do this,” she muttered as she lowered herself to all fours.
The first ripple of pain washed over her skin and it prickled like a thousand needles against her flesh. Grinding and crunching, she fought to ease the nausea that always accompanied the sounds of her body breaking. Falling against the dry grass, she screamed as pain ripped through her muscles. Popping sounded as her spine reshaped and tears streamed down the corners of her eyes, burning like lava against her sensitive, stretching skin. Minutes passed like hours as the pain pushed on and on. In the last moments of transition, the cursed white fur of the Silver Wolf covered her naked body, protecting it from the harsh and bitter cold.
The grass beneath her body was damp from her Change taking so long, and she dragged herself upright. Shooting aches died down as she stretched her legs and splayed each paw.
Marissa sat on the edge of the woods, watching her. Her head was cocked to the side and her tongue was lolled out to the side in a wolfish grin. If Morgan had been human, she would’ve been mortified at someone else seeing her in such a vulnerable state. As it were, her wolf didn’t care so much about such trivial things. Shaking out the last of the tingles, she bounded after Marissa.
The girl was her favorite wolf to run with. She was submissive, with an easy, laidback personality. She didn’t play rough like the boys, and even if she and Marissa played at fighting, neither one of them ever drew blood. Playing with the boys was like playing with a wood chipper.
Crawling on her belly, Marissa whined and licked under Morgan’s chin before she growled and took off. She ranked lower as far as dominance. Marissa was about as submissive as a werewolf could be.
If Morgan could stay like this forever, and if Lana didn’t depend on her human side so much, she would do it in a heartbeat. Her wolf missed Grey, but she was easily distracted with Marissa’s subtle affection and with chasing prey. She hadn’t moved on, but her wolf could focus on tasks other than obsessing over the loss of their mate.
Right now, her heart wasn’t broken.
It was focused on hunting a bunny with Marissa and secretly, hunting Grey’s scent. It was a weird outlet, but at this point, she was a fan of anything that took the edge off her emotions.
I’m still here.
After he’d sent that text, her tears had dried up like magic.
She wouldn’t admit it out loud yet, but she was still here, too.
Chapter Six
Living in a cramped apartment was no longer enough. The only reason Grey lived in that place was to punish himself and Wolf. The city was no place for him and never had been. It was time to touch the money his mom had left in his name.
So he hadn’t worked out exactly how, or if, he would be able to get Morgan back, but he was making strides for them anyway.
Step one was build a log cabin, just like Morgan had talked about. Oh, she’d done it as pillow talk and in that dreamy voice that said she didn’t really expect it to ever happen. Grey had never talked to her about the money part of his life because he hadn’t wanted to face it. But now? He was ready to face everything.
Easier said than done in Texas, because log cabins weren’t a staple like they were in snow country. Grey had to order a log cabin kit that included all of the lumber and supplies. Then he had to hire a contractor who knew what he was doing and could get a good crew under him. A crew who were willing to drive to a worksite in the middle of nowhere every day.
And that’s how he’d met Daniel Forbes. The contractor had listened openly as Grey made suggestions and drawings of the home he wanted. Daniel even suggested that Grey use his woodworking skills to make the main rails for the large wraparound front porch, giving him the specks for them so he could get started.
That had been a month ago.
When Grey pulled up to the property, the work crew was taking their lunch break. Daniel waved him over. “You ready to have plumbing in this place?” he asked, taking a bite of a sandwich and shaking his hand.
“Yeah, I’m ready. This is the fun part, when everything starts coming together. God,” he uttered, scanning the already-framed house. “I can’t believe how much you have gotten done already.”
“The kit homes go faster. Granted, you picked the biggest damn kit I’ve ever seen, but all the material is there, and me and the boys get paid the same either way. Might as well get it done faster if we’re able to.”
“I love it. Keep it up!” Grey said as he turned and strode for the huge barn that had just been installed last week. I’m going to get some work done. Yell if you need anything.”
“Marissa is already in there,” Daniel called. “She got here a couple of hours ago.”
Grey already had his tools in here from the woodshop on top of his old apartment. It was bigger than the rooftop shanty his landlady let him use, with more room for bigger projects. The tiny shop on the roof had been peppered with buckets to catch rainwater that dripped from holes in the roof, but his tools and materials stayed nice and dry in here. This was his paradise. And apparently, Marissa thought so too.
The metal sliding door groaned open as he pushed on it with the palm of his hand. Marissa looked up from her work and smiled. The girl had changed around him—opened up and become relaxed in a way he never saw her act around the rest of her pack. Thank goodness, because her low stress meant Wolf wasn’t always on high alert. She was sitting on a chair sanding down one of the plain railings on a work bench. He had decided to do every other railing plain and understated, while the others he would hand carved with wolf, bear, and deer motifs. Marissa said each of the already finished rails were like works of art, and he’d realized her compliments meant a lot more to him than he’d like to admit.
“Are Logan and Jason at the house?” he guessed as he shed his sunglasses.
“Only Logan this time”. She was getting good at taking herself away from the tension that came with the young wolves’ rivalry over her, and most of that escape came from spending time working on the cabin. Daniel and the crew didn’t mind her being around, and everyone teased her and treated her like a little sister. Thank goodness for that, because he’d be sorely tempted to rip their limbs off if they made her uncomfortable.
She was quiet with a quick wit when she needed it. A pretty girl, clinging to her teens and still lanky and awkward, she had a youthfully appealing face, long, wavy light brown hair, a button nose with big hazel eyes. A smattering of freckles across her nose kept her looking her young age.
He had always wanted a sibling and a dog growing up, and there she was—a little sister who also barked. Two birds with one stone, and all.
“I ordered a pizza. It�
�ll be here in half an hour,” he said. He knew better than to let her go hungry. Her appetite rivaled his, and she could be a vicious little thing when she was hungry.
“Hey, Grey?”
“Yeah,” he said distractedly. He picked up one of the posts and examined one of the corners he hadn’t smoothed quite enough.
“I like when you are around. The boys never even look at me when you’re there. One look from you and the tension goes away. You are like this scary older brother who may or may not actually murder anyone who messes with me.” She smiled with a far-off look in her eyes.
“What is that face for? I think you enjoy the idea of me murdering them sometimes,” he muttered.
“Not me, but my wolf does. She gets—,” she paused, as if searching for the right word, “—defensive.”
“Yeah, well, Wolf is murdery, too. I get it.” He scribbled a mark onto the wood and frowned. “It’s actually really disturbing how much I think of killing.”
Marissa nodded. “Uh, yeah, the way you look at people sometimes, it’s like you are planning something. It wouldn’t be so bad if your eyes weren’t bright gold, but they make you look like a fuckin demon.”
“Don’t cuss.”
She ignored his reprimand and flipped the post over. “Sometimes I get a teeny bit scared for the normies around you, and then it makes me glad I’m on your side.”
