by Kayla Wolf
”No way,” she breathed. Could it be? She stretched her fingertips in the pitch darkness. There were no more cars outside. The night air was silent out there, no more tires on gravel, no more engines revving. The pack was gone. She rose to her feet, climbing the stairs very carefully in the dark, relying on muscle memory to show her where to go, where the steps were. Sure enough, her father had locked the door. But her father wasn’t here anymore. He’d be at the battle with her mother.
She took a deep breath. Hardly daring to believe it could be the case, she reached deep into the center of her chest and let the magic rush through her.
She would have whooped for joy if her mouth hadn’t been replaced by a muzzle. Hundreds of pounds of muscle replaced her fragile human frame. She teetered a little on her hind paws, her forelegs pressing against the locked door to the basement. The wood splintered as she pressed, putting her full weight against it—not her human weight, but her wolf weight. Then the door finally gave way, and her eyes were flooded with light as she fell through into the kitchen onto all fours.
Paws. Jaws. Thick fur, a tail that wouldn’t stop wagging. She could hear herself whining with delight, hardly daring to believe that she was finally in her wolf form again. After all these years, she’d thought it would feel unfamiliar, but it was like putting on a favorite old sweater again. She was back in her body.
But there was no time to think about that. With the clarity that came from her wolf self, she knew she had to get to the battle. Had to do something—anything—about what was happening there, about her pack’s attempt to kill the rightful inhabitants of the peninsula. She padded through the kitchen, through the dining room, her great bulk knocking the dining table aside—her mother had always strictly forbidden wolf forms in the dining room, and now she knew why. Lori lingered, just for a moment, on the front step of her ancestral home. She knew she’d never come back here again.
Then she turned and set off running down the road.
It felt so unbelievably good—not just to be in her wolf body again and running, but to be leaving behind her family home. All her possessions, all her responsibilities, all her connections to the pack vanished in the gloom behind her. She stretched out, really letting herself fly along the road, heedless of the possibility of being seen by humans. It was late at night, the roads were deserted, and besides, what were they going to do? Try to catch her? She was faster than anything, faster than anyone. She almost felt like she could lift off and fly to her destination.
Harvey.
She was running to him. She knew that deep in her heart. She had finally opened herself up to her instincts, and they’d come through in a big way. He burned ahead of her, like a magnet, drawing her on. She knew, on some deep and primal level, that he needed her. That wherever he was, he needed her help. And if that meant fighting off her family, she’d do it. She’d do anything for him. Even if he couldn’t forgive her for what she’d done, it didn’t matter. She’d do everything she could to help him—not because she had to, not because she felt obligated or manipulated or pressured into helping him, but because she loved him. That was the truth that was burning in the center of her chest as her long legs ate up the ground between her and her soulmate. She loved him more than anything. More than her pack, more than her home, more than life itself.
The scent of blood hit her like a truck at least a few miles from the site of the battle. She knew her pack had been here—she could sense them. And as she ran, she saw car after car, parked discreetly by the side of the road, or tucked behind a copse of trees. The occasional pawprint in the dust beneath her feet … this was it. She was nearing the site of the battle. Fear gripped her, but she kept moving, knowing that she needed to get there. Needed to see what had happened with her own eyes.
On the road that turned off from the mainland down the peninsula, she stopped, the smell of blood almost overwhelming. Sure enough, there were injured wolves limping away from the peninsula, supporting one another, blood dripping from wounds that looked to have been torn by razor-sharp talons. She hesitated, not sure whether her pack would lash out at her. But the wolves limping past her clearly had their minds on other matters. She realized with a shock that she couldn’t feel them. Usually, in proximity to her pack in their wolf forms, she could feel the mental brush of thought, of feeling, of emotion, but there was none of that here.
Lori realized, with a shock that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, that she was no longer part of this pack. These people weren’t her family. She felt no connection to the Alpha, to the broader family of the pack. And in a way, she never had.
But she had to keep moving. She lowered her head, trying to look inconspicuous as she headed toward the epicenter of what must have been a pretty horrific battle, given how much blood she could smell, how many seriously wounded wolves were lying on the ground. As she watched, she saw wolves shifting back into their human forms and limping away. That was a bad sign. Injuries sustained by the wolf form were less significant when translated to the human one—any wolf turning back to their human shape was likely doing it because the injuries to their wolf form had become life-threatening.
The battle was over. She could tell that much from the energy in the air. But who had won? A familiar gray wolf limped past her, and she realized with a shock that it was her father, her mother not far behind him. He looked at her for a long moment. It was impossible to read any emotion in those silver eyes. Then he turned and walked away from her, her mother following him.
That was it, she realized with a dull shock. She was free.
But there were other things to worry about. She’d think about her now ex-family later. For now, she had to find Harvey. Something was worrying her—something was making her think that he wasn’t okay. That he’d been hurt, somehow … that he was lying somewhere, bleeding. She took a deep breath through her nose, trying to sift through the overwhelming smell of blood. Plenty of dead and wounded wolves around, that was true … and another scent underneath it. Similar, but different, somehow. Colder, more ancient. Almost reptilian.
She followed her nose down the road, and then she saw him. A huge, crumpled shape, spread out on the road. Beside it lay a human shape, a woman struggling to sit upright. She recognized Juliana, the Alpha, with a shock. The woman was covered in blood but conscious, her silver eyes full of rage and fear as she stared up at the dragon before her. Lori knew in her bones that it was Harvey.
But something was wrong. He wasn’t moving. And he was surrounded by six tall, powerful-looking humans, battered and bruised but still upright—and as she approached, all six of them turned their identical sets of familiar blue eyes to her. Dragons. Harvey’s family. She felt her heart sink. The six of them looked healthy enough. But why were they in their human shapes if Harvey wasn’t?
Juliana had made it to her feet—she barely gave Lori a second look as she limped away. It was clear that she was badly broken—as defeated as her forces were. But Lori couldn’t focus on any of that right now. She was moving toward Harvey as if in a dream, heedless of the warning looks she was receiving from the dragons standing around him. Without even realizing it, she felt her wolf give way, and she was standing on her own two feet again, blinking in the darkness.
”Who are you?” one of the dragons said, his blue eyes narrowed.
She took a deep breath.
“I’m Lori. I’m Harvey’s soulmate. And I’m so, so sorry.”
Chapter 14 - Harvey
He opened his eyes slowly, a little confused about where he was, about what was happening. It felt like being woken from a deep, deep sleep—disoriented, confused, not quite sure what he’d been doing before he fell asleep. Fragments of memory came back to him as he stirred, trying to figure out where he was. He’d been trying to do something incredibly important … but what was it? Something had been wrong … some kind of threat …
The fight! The wolves … the hordes and hordes of wolves that seemed to keep coming. And then … he frowned, fighting with h
is memory. He’d defeated the Alpha, broken the back of the assault. The wolves had been retreating. He’d heard their Alpha give the order, seen her battered and broken as she retreated from the bloody battleground. And then … there had been another wolf. A wolf with jet black fur and a pair of silver eyes that were somehow so familiar to him … a wolf that had padded through the battlefield without a second glance for its wounded fellows. A wolf that had shifted into …
”Lori?”
”I’m here. Stay still,” he heard her voice tell him—and he lay back in the bed as he felt her hand pressing him down. A good move, too—he winced as he shifted slightly, realizing that his body was covered in bandages. Harvey blinked up at the woman at his bedside, still deeply disoriented and reeling. It was Lori—her hair in that tight braid, her silver eyes full of worry. He let out a breath he’d been holding, surprised to realize that he’d been worried about her.
”Where—“
”You’re in the hospital. We got you here a few days ago—once we finally got you to shift back from your dragon form. It—it was close.” There were tears standing in her eyes, and he felt a strange urge to reach out and brush them away. No … no, he was angry with her … she’d betrayed him … “We were so worried we were too late. The others said you fought like a madman. Like you were determined to take every hit the wolves had to offer. Protecting the others.”
”Sounds like me,” he said weakly, his voice rasping. She pressed a glass of water into his hands, and he sipped at it, wincing a little at how dry his mouth felt. “A couple of days?”
”Yeah.”
”The wolves—”
”All gone. We checked. The others have been patrolling—”
”Anyone hurt?”
”Just you,” she said, a note of amusement in her voice. “Pretty badly, too. Alice thinks it’ll be another day until you’re fully mended.”
”Okay,” he said, already feeling exhausted by the brief window of consciousness. But he couldn’t fall asleep again … not with Lori there. They had to talk … had to figure out what had happened, to find a way forward … but his mind was rebelling against him. “Are you okay?” he finally said. “Your family—”
”I’m fine,” she said softly, and though he could hear there was more to that answer than she was letting on, he couldn’t fight it any longer. He dropped back into a dreamless sleep.
When he woke again, Lori was still there. Only a change of shirt indicated that any time had passed—the same braid, the same bright silver eyes, the same look of relief and warmth as she leaned forward to check on him as he woke up. “Still here?”
”How are you feeling?”
”Better,” he said, sitting up cautiously. Gone was the stabbing pain in his side he’d felt earlier—gone, too, were a few of the bandages. “Good old shifter magic.”
”Don’t get too carried away.” That was Alice’s voice—the doctor was standing in the doorway, her lab coat on and her blue eyes crinkled in a smile. “Shifters heal a lot faster than humans, that’s true, but you lost a lot of blood, Harvey. You’ll need to take it easy for a few days at least. You fought—”
”Bravely,” Lori said.
”Like an idiot,” Alice said frankly.
”Kept you all safe, didn’t I? We won, didn’t we?”
“And we nearly lost you in the process,” Alice scolded him, crossing to his bedside to tap him gently—but firmly—on the shoulder. “Poor Lori’s been worried sick. You didn’t tell us the wolf informant was your soulmate.” Lori’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, and Alice looked back and forth between them, a comical look of dismay on her face. “Oh. I see that I’ve pre-empted a conversation. Well. You’re welcome to go home to recover,” Alice said, gesturing vaguely towards the door. “Just take it easy on the walk over, okay? Seems like you two have some things to talk about.”
He cleared his throat, his heart pounding as his mind raced to catch up with everything that had happened. Lori helped him out of bed, clearly equally lost in thought. There was something almost comical about the silence between them as they walked out of the little hospital that Alice ran. It was an overcast day, gray clouds gathered in the sky, and he put out a hand to test for rain before they started walking toward his cottage.
”You feeling okay?” Lori said finally, breaking the silence.
”A little weaker than usual, but no pain. We heal quickly,” he said with a smile.
”Yeah. Alice was telling me she studies shifter magic. It’s fascinating how we heal. How we … recognize each other. I knew I loved you the minute I met you.”
He almost stumbled at that, his head rocketing back to look at her. She was smiling at him, an odd, sad smile that made her look, somehow, even more beautiful. A lasting smile, he realized, gazing at her. Not the shy lightning-flash he’d gotten to know.
”Something’s different about you,” he said softly, reaching out to open the door to his cottage. She followed him in cautiously, glancing around as she did before her eyes returned to him.
”I left my pack,” she said, following him through to his bedroom. He was starting to feel shaky even after the short walk, and she helped him pull back the quilts and climb into the bed with a sigh. Once he was settled, she continued. “As soon as I got back, I knew it was the wrong place for me. It always has been. I’m just embarrassed it took me so long to realize it.”
He cleared his throat, a little surprised by how calm she seemed, how grounded. “You seem … a lot more relaxed.”
”I’m free,” she said simply. “And I have you to thank for that. I’m so, so grateful to you, Harvey. You showed me … you showed me how a family ought to treat each other, how people care for each other when they actually care and aren’t just interested in manipulating each other. And I am so, so sorry for what I did, for betraying you. That night in the cabin, when you heard me on the phone—”
”Don’t worry about it,” he said, not wanting to think about the worst night of his life. But she shook her head firmly.
”No. What I said to my father … it was an act. I’d already decided I wasn’t going to do what they wanted, wasn’t going to help them come for you. I was going to say what I needed to say to stop them from attacking, then come straight to you and tell you everything. I understand if you can never trust me again. But Harvey … I think you’re my mate. I’ve been thinking a lot over the last few days, and nothing else makes sense to me.”
He took a deep breath, his heart pounding, completely torn. On the one hand, anger and suspicion were his oldest friends as emotions went. It was hard to just stop feeling betrayed, stop feeling that she could never be forgiven for what she’d done. But on the other hand … god, just looking into her eyes was doing things to him. She’d warned them, hadn’t she? She’d risked her life, risked everything to tell them about the attack, to give them the heads-up that had saved them. Her pack was gone now … and she was still here.
”I think so, too,” he said softly, and the look on her face was like the sun breaking through the clouds. “Lori, I—I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met. And that night on the beach …”
She blushed. “I know.”
”You’re my soulmate. And I—“ Was this a terrible mistake that he was making? His old instincts were screaming at him to tell her to leave, to send her away, to return to his solitude. Being alone was safe. Alone, nobody could hurt you. But he clenched his jaw, trying to fight those old instincts. It was those instincts that had nearly gotten him killed. “I want to make it work. It might take a while,” he added, frowning. “I—trust is—trust isn’t exactly one of my strong suits.”
”Me neither,” she said softly, reaching out to take his hand in hers. “Harvey, if I have to, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
Was this a terrible mistake, he wondered? Somehow, looking into her eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to believe she was anything other than the best thing that had ever happened
to him. Having her here, close to him, looking into his eyes, telling him she loved him … wasn’t that worth all the pain he’d been through? Wasn’t it worth giving it a shot?
He pulled her close and reached up to claim her lips in a kiss. And before long, she’d slipped into the bed beside him, barely breaking away as they kissed each other, soft and sweet, exploring the strange new space between them. He pulled the quilt over her, drawing her close, feeling her fingertips ghost across his shoulders, tracing the outlines of all his scars, old and new. It wasn’t just physical scars that he was bearing, he knew that much … but somehow, having Lori in his arms was softening all that old pain, making him feel like there was a way forward around the scar tissue.
“I love you,” he said softly, pulling away from her for a moment to look deeply into her eyes. The gentle drumming of rain on the roof was the only soundtrack—that, and the beating of their hearts, the sound of their breath mingling in the space under the covers.
”I love you too,” she whispered—and then she was kissing him again, and despite his exhaustion, despite the ongoing recovery from the serious injuries he’d sustained, he could feel his body responding to her, feel his injured but still energetic dragon stirring at the sensation of her fingertips against his body. She could feel it, too—there was something about her body that was more dynamic, somehow, more energized, a kind of dynamic responsiveness that had been there when they’d made love on the beach but had been muted, somehow.
He made the connection. “Your wolf! You shifted!”
”I did,” she laughed, smiling up at him. “Turned out all I needed was to get my priorities straight.”
