she wore became part of the fabric of her being.
“If you get hungry, eat without me,” she said, giving him one final kiss before she headed for a trail that led farther into the mountains.
Anxiety whined through her with the feel of Conner’s gaze on her back. At separating from him, as well as from knowing she’d have to be careful not to leave tracks, in case he changed his mind and came after her. An abrupt end to footprints and the beginning of paw prints wasn’t the way to tell him what she was.
She stumbled. Did she intend to tell him?
Her mouth went dry. Telling him wasn’t a good idea unless his scent and his stiffened muscles had lied about his reaction to the supernatural. And showing him… The penalty for breaking covenant law and revealing the existence of werewolves—except to a mate or in a life-threatening event where any witnesses could be handled—was harsh.
She shoved worries about a future with Conner to the back of her mind. First she needed this .
Sight and scent and taste burst over her with the change. Mother Earth sang through the pads of her feet as she ran, was there in the voices of whispering trees, in bird song and the sound of insects, in the scurrying and crashing of prey animals as they became aware of a predator in their midst.
A deer bolted across the trail and she took off in pursuit, eager to catch it, accepting that its death was part of the cycle of life. Joy filling her with each stride though enough of the woman remained to silently laugh at imagining Conner’s reaction if she returned with a doe slung over her shoulder.
The wolf tired without bringing the deer down but still found immense pleasure in drinking from a stream before lying down and rolling in dirt and leaves and a thousand scents. She’d heard tales of Weres who rejected their animal nature and chose to live among humans, to breed during those times when their cycle coincided with one of the moon phases where the gene drawing upon magic went recessive, so their children were born free of the moon’s call and unable to shift.
She would never deny her children this. Never.
Time held no meaning for the wolf though she noted when dusk gave way to a night lit by the full moon. She rose and shook, leaping and snapping at fireflies, giving chase to first one rabbit and then a second, and a third, uncaring of anything but the moment.
Chapter Four
Conner put the guitar down gently though he felt far from calm. Where the fuck was she?
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question and he had a bad feeling it wasn’t going to be the last. Christ. Anyone else and he would have called it in by now and started a search. Anyone else and he wouldn’t feel raw at the prospect of having been lied to.
He scrubbed his hands over his face as if doing it would erase the conflicting thoughts and emotions. He never should have let her out of his sight, but fuck, trust had to start somewhere.
He left the lounge chair and added another round of charcoal to those already dying out in the brick grill. He’d give her a little bit longer then decide what action to take.
Returning to the chair, he accepted the impossibility of getting any songwriting done. Composing didn’t come naturally to him on a good day, something his partner razzed him about when early versions of a piece could be likened to torture by a listener.
He put the guitar in its case and hauled it into the cabin, bringing the flute out and sitting on the back stairs of the wraparound porch. A semblance of peace came with the first note, a calming grace made more beautiful by nighttime woods and lack of city sounds.
The wolf abandoned her pursuit of a rabbit when the music reached her ears, a sweet serenade whose lure was every bit as potent as the Pied Piper’s. She raced toward the sound as if it were a summoning, a different type of joy filling her. Her will becoming more closely melded with the woman’s, though she wasn’t yet ready
“If you get hungry, eat without me,” she said, giving him one final kiss before she headed for a trail that led farther into the mountains.
Anxiety whined through her with the feel of Conner’s gaze on her back. At separating from him, as well as from knowing she’d have to be careful not to leave tracks, in case he changed his mind and came after her. An abrupt end to footprints and the beginning of paw prints wasn’t the way to tell him what she was.
She stumbled. Did she intend to tell him?
Her mouth went dry. Telling him wasn’t a good idea unless his scent and his stiffened muscles had lied about his reaction to the supernatural. And showing him… The penalty for breaking covenant law and revealing the existence of werewolves—except to a mate or in a life-threatening event where any witnesses could be handled—was harsh.
She shoved worries about a future with Conner to the back of her mind. First she needed this .
Sight and scent and taste burst over her with the change. Mother Earth sang through the pads of her feet as she ran, was there in the voices of whispering trees, in bird song and the sound of insects, in the scurrying and crashing of prey animals as they became aware of a predator in their midst.
A deer bolted across the trail and she took off in pursuit, eager to catch it, accepting that its death was part of the cycle of life. Joy filling her with each stride though enough of the woman remained to silently laugh at imagining Conner’s reaction if she returned with a doe slung over her shoulder.
The wolf tired without bringing the deer down but still found immense pleasure in drinking from a stream before lying down and rolling in dirt and leaves and a thousand scents. She’d heard tales of Weres who rejected their animal nature and chose to live among humans, to breed during those times when their cycle coincided with one of the moon phases where the gene drawing upon magic went recessive, so their children were born free of the moon’s call and unable to shift.
She would never deny her children this. Never.
Time held no meaning for the wolf though she noted when dusk gave way to a night lit by the full moon. She rose and shook, leaping and snapping at fireflies, giving chase to first one rabbit and then a second, and a third, uncaring of anything but the moment.
Chapter Four
Conner put the guitar down gently though he felt far from calm. Where the fuck was she?
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question and he had a bad feeling it wasn’t going to be the last. Christ. Anyone else and he would have called it in by now and started a search. Anyone else and he wouldn’t feel raw at the prospect of having been lied to.
He scrubbed his hands over his face as if doing it would erase the conflicting thoughts and emotions. He never should have let her out of his sight, but fuck, trust had to start somewhere.
He left the lounge chair and added another round of charcoal to those already dying out in the brick grill. He’d give her a little bit longer then decide what action to take.
Returning to the chair, he accepted the impossibility of getting any songwriting done. Composing didn’t come naturally to him on a good day, something his partner razzed him about when early versions of a piece could be likened to torture by a listener.
He put the guitar in its case and hauled it into the cabin, bringing the flute out and sitting on the back stairs of the wraparound porch. A semblance of peace came with the first note, a calming grace made more beautiful by nighttime woods and lack of city sounds.
The wolf abandoned her pursuit of a rabbit when the music reached her ears, a sweet serenade whose lure was every bit as potent as the Pied Piper’s. She raced toward the sound as if it were a summoning, a different type of joy filling her. Her will becoming more closely melded with the woman’s, though she wasn’t yet ready
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