Red

  “So if you decide college isn’t for you, your future career as masseuse is pretty well set.”

  “Exercise helps too. I ran miles every day during the months of my transition.”

  He moved on to my left arm, kneading from the biceps all the way down to my forearm and fingers.

  “Months?” I said. “How long does it usually take?”

  “From the time the first symptoms appear? Six to eight months?”

  “Six to eight months? But I don’t understand. I’ve only had symptoms for, like, a month. Since right before my birthday.”

  “Huh.” He moved on to my right arm. “Well, I have a theory.”

  “By all means, enlighten me, Obi-Wan.”

  “I don’t want you to feel weird or pressured or anything.”

  “Okaaaaay.” Where was he going with this?

  “Werewolf transition is a lot like human puberty.”

  “Gawkiness, hormones, and ridiculously unfair acne?”

  “Transition means we’re of mate-able age.”

  “Ma—Oh.”

  Sawyer’s hands stilled on my shoulders, then fell away. “You’ve spent so much time . . . cloistered, avoiding that part of things because of all the rules and your false beliefs, I think you kind of unnaturally delayed a normal transition. And then I showed up.”

  “And then you showed up. What does that have to do with anything?” I asked, turning to look at him.

  He rubbed at the back of his neck, not quite looking at me. “Once your transition actually started, I think I accelerated it.”

  “I don’t understand. How?”

  “You remember how I said being around you quieted my beast?”

  “Yeah?”

  “That would only happen under one condition.”

  Why was he beating around the bush? “And that is?” I prompted, waving my hand.

  He took a breath and met my eyes. “Because you’re my mate.”

  My mouth opened. Closed again.

  “Wolves tend to mate for life,” I heard myself say.

  “Yeah.” He seemed wary, as if waiting for me to freak out.

  Mates. My brain circled around the idea, turning it over like a new taste on my tongue. I was his. He was mine. And if I understood him correctly, he was implying that my delayed change was now happening faster because I’d found him. As if the dam holding things back had broken, and now things were happening in a flash flood because my wolf recognized him for what and who he was, even if the rest of me hadn’t quite caught up.

  “Well that explains a lot.”

  Sawyer let out the breath he was holding in a whoosh.

  I thought of Mom and that lightning strike, love-at-first sight of Dad. “So if we hadn’t been under the impression that Dad should be getting me to a nunnery, would I have fixated on some human guy and started my transition early? Or at the normal time or whatever?”

  “I don’t know. Your family is the only one I’ve heard of that mated consistently outside wolfkind. Maybe that was due to an absence of suitable males. Maybe not. But you told me about how lots of your ancestors kind of went crazy. And I think that’s why. We’re genetically meant to mate with our own species.”

  “What, like mating with humans is like marrying your cousin for several generations kind of crazy?”

  His mouth curved a little. “No. It’s a control mechanism. When we’re young, our wolves are tempered by the mated pairing of our parents. Once we’re past transition, they’re tempered by our mates. So as you settle my wolf, I should, in theory, also settle yours. Your control should be better with me.”

  I considered this. “So basically my ancestors didn’t have that tempering influence because they chose mates who were human and their wolves ran amok?”

  “That’s my theory.”

  “And if you hadn’t been there to talk me down, I might have actually killed Amber?” My stomach twisted at the thought of how much I’d enjoyed having my hand around her neck, hearing the choking gasps in place of insults.

  “I don’t know. You might never have been that aggressive if I hadn’t kickstarted things to begin with.”

  That really wasn’t making me feel any better.

  “You didn’t kill her, Elodie. Don’t start punishing yourself for what you might have done. You didn’t do it.”

  “And how do you know I won’t do it again? To her or someone else, when you’re not around. You can’t be with me twenty-four hours a day.”

  “Until you’re through transition I can. And until then, I’ll be working with you on more control. You’ve already got an iron will. I think that’s part of how you got this far on your own.”

  “And after transition?”

  “It won’t be so hard.”

  “I mean where will you be?”

  “Right here. You’re my mate, Elodie. I’m not going anywhere.”

  It was a good thing, I reflected, to belong to someone who believed in me that absolutely. Because I wasn’t at all sure I believed in myself.

  Chapter 11

  Sawyer

  “I can’t believe you’re making us set up camp first,” I groused, eying the moonlit lake behind us while I slid tent poles through the sleeves of our tent. “We’ve been hiking for hours.”

  “Yes, we have,” she said, patiently stirring the pot of whatever she’d decided to cook for dinner while I was on tent-duty. “And when we’re done with our swim, we aren’t going to want to do anything but fall into the tent and sleep. This way we can do that.”

  I kept my mouth shut since I was pretty damn sure I’d want to do more than sleep. So not gonna push that. I shoved the next pole through, arched it, and inserted the pin to hold it. “Sometimes you are a disturbingly practical woman.” It was disturbing because it was like my dad. He was always the practical one.

  “It’s a curse,” she replied.

  I shoved the final pole through and attached the anchor pins. Suddenly, we had a tent. One final circle around to drive in stakes and we were set. While she dished up dinner, I unrolled the sleeping bags, laying them out as I had last night, so we’d be cushioned by mine and covered by hers. The packs were next. I arranged them to the sides, out of the way as best as they could be in a tent that was really only meant for one.

  “It’ll be pretty tight,” she observed as I emerged.

  I stood up and took the plate she offered. “I don’t mind.”

  She gave a tired smile. “I don’t suppose I do either.”

  We inhaled the beef stew.

  “Swim now,” I insisted.

  “Nope. Dishes first. Dirty dishes mean ants.”

  She stood and headed for the edge of the lake.

  “Fine,” I called. “Then we’re doing more reflex training. Think fast.” I winged my aluminum plate toward her like a frisbee.

  Elodie dodged and the plate whizzed by her, landing with a clang and rolling almost into the lake. She turned and glared at me. “Did you just fling your dirty, gravy-coated plate at my head?”

  “Whatcha gonna do about it?” I asked, grinning.

  Her plate came flying toward me, slamming into my hand somewhere on the level of my throat.

  “Ha! See? Your accuracy improves when you’re pissed. You let your wolf out to play then.”

  “So your super masterful training plan includes getting gravy in my hair to piss me off so I’ll try to behead you with a plate?”

  “Can’t say as I gave it that much serious thought, but, yeah, something like that. It worked, didn’t it?”

  She just shook her head. “Wash your dish, McGrath.”

  Once the dishes were scrubbed and stowed, I said, “Now, is camp set up to your satisfaction?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Then we can swim?” I asked, kicking off my boots.

  She bent and unlaced her boots. “Now we can swim,” she agreed, stepping out of them.

  “Excellent.”

  She squealed in surprise as I scooped her up. “S
awyer what are you doing?” Then she saw me headed for the bank. “Oh no. No, you’re not going to—”

  With a running leap, I cannonballed both of us into the lake. I caught a foot to the chest for my trouble. At least I think it was a foot. Elodie wriggled free, surfacing with a growl of outrage, even as I whooped.

  “Holy crap, that feels good!” I shoved my dripping hair back from my eyes.

  “Sawyer I’m still dressed.” Elodie’s eyes flashed gold.

  “I had noticed that. Me too. I figured we could help each other out with that.” I grinned and snagged her around the waist.

  She shoved back with both hands, popping free of my wet hands. “Do you have any idea how long our clothes will take to dry in all this humidity?” God she was cute when she was irritated.

  “All the more reason to let them get started now,” I said, tugging my wet t-shirt off and hurling it toward the bank, where it landed with a wet plop. “Besides, we both have changes of clothes in our packs. I watched you pack them.”

  I disappeared beneath the surface to take care of my shorts. They landed in a heap a couple feet from the shirt. That shot had to be worth two points. “There. That’s better.”

  Elodie was a few feet away when I turned back around, eyes round.

  “What?” I tread a quick circle, searching the bank for threats, but saw nothing.

  She’d stroked another few feet back by the time I made it around.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You seem to be missing a rather important piece of apparel,” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Swim trunks.”

  “Don’t have any. I was in a hurry when I packed, remember? Besides, I’m a werewolf. Naked’s just another state of being. Plus, swim trunks completely defeat the purpose of skinny dipping.”

  Even in the monochrome night lighting, I could see the blood creep up her neck to her hairline. Huh. Apparently lack of modesty was a socialized trait, not a biological one. That was going to be an adjustment for her.

  “Never been skinny dipping, huh?”

  She lifted one brow in that prim, superior way that made me want to nibble her lips. “What do you think?”

  “Well, you, my dear girl, have been missing out. And there’s no better time to try it than the present.” I lifted my arms to encompass the lake and its very empty surroundings. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Nobody around to see.”

  “You’re around.”

  “Well, yes, but it’s night and therefore dark, and I swear I won’t look.”

  The eyebrow went up again.

  I lifted three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  “If you were a Boy Scout, then I’ll lose my shorts.”

  I grinned. “Dropped out before Eagle Scout, but Mom was troop leader for four years.”

  “You could totally be making that up,” she said.

  “You want proof? Okay. Boy Scout oath: On my honor, I will do my best to do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout Law; to help other people at all times; to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.” I repeated that last bit to myself as a reminder that I was the one who had to keep things from getting out of hand.

  Elodie swore.

  “Lose ’em, Rose.”

  She bobbed for a minute or so, head dipping below the water, but she eventually came up with her shorts. With a narrow-eyed glare at me, she lobbed them to the bank.

  I stroked lazy circles around her. “Now . . . what else can we bet your shirt on?”

  “I am not a betting woman,” she said. She huffed out a breath. “Turn around.”

  I did as she ordered, listening to the splashes as she wiggled out of the rest of her clothes. Even when I heard the wet thwack of them hitting the bank, I stayed where I was, studying the moonlight as it sparkled on the waterfall. All joking aside, I knew this was a big thing for her, so she got to set the pace from here.

  “Okay.”

  When I turned Elodie was treading water just enough that her chin touched the surface, her hair fanning out behind her. Nervous. I didn’t need to catch her scent to know that. She needed distraction, something to make her forget she was naked.

  “How good a swimmer are you?” I asked.

  “Pretty good.”

  “Great. Then I challenge you to a race. First one to the waterfall wins.”

  “Wins what?”

  “Choice of breakfast. Loser cooks. And I warn you, if I win, I want corn beef hash.”

  Elodie made a face.

  “On your mark, get set, g—”

  She exploded into motion before I could get out “Go!” For a moment I could only watch her. Because she’d lied. She wasn’t pretty good. She was amazing. Instead of cutting through the water with a powerful crawl, as I would, she flew in one of the smoothest butterfly strokes I’d ever seen, like some kind of freshwater mermaid. She was four lengths ahead of me before I threw myself into the race.

  I’d intended to let her win. Not by much, but just enough to boost her confidence. As it turned out, even my all out wasn’t enough to catch her. She flew through the curtain of water and slapped a hand on the rock wall a full three strokes ahead of me. As she turned toward me, her face glowed with triumph, her eyes gold. Her wolf was coming easier now. That was good. I wondered if she realized it.

  “I’m not sure that was entirely fair,” I protested.

  “Hey, you got to ‘go’. Not my fault you’re slow off the line.”

  “I’m not slow. You’re freakishly fast. Are you sure you’re a werewolf and not some kind of sea creature?”

  “Well, in the name of full disclosure, I have to admit that you’re looking at the All-State silver medalist in butterfly for the 6th grade.” She looked smug.

  “Silver medalist? Swim team? In Texas? Shit. I didn’t stand a chance. I’m amazed your dad let you compete.”

  “I swam competitively for five years . . . before.” The light of victory instantly faded and so did her wolf.

  Shit.

  “Before what?”

  “Before . . . this. Before we found out what I was.”

  “Wait, what? You didn’t grow up knowing?”

  “No. I got to be normal until I was thirteen. That was the year I got the letter from my mother.”

  Letter? Then I remembered what I’d overheard of her fight with her dad. “Right, the attorney. Why the delay of so many years?”

  “I guess she thought she was doing me a favor letting me have a normal life for as long as possible.”

  I heard what she wasn’t saying. That knowing what she was missing sucked a helluva lot worse.

  Okay, time for this train to jump the depressing track. “Well, clearly the time off hasn’t hurt your technique. You kicked my ass. Though I’m not sure you did yourself any favors.”

  Her mouth quirked in a partial smile. “I got out of eating corned beef hash. I may be a werewolf but I refuse to eat dog food, and that’s exactly what corned beef hash smells and looks like.”

  “To each their own, but in the name of full disclosure on my side . . . I can’t actually cook.”

  Elodie feigned surprise. “What? With such astounding staples in your pantry and the pizza delivery place on speed dial?”

  “Either you’ve been spying on me, or that’s a sexist remark.”

  “Sexist but true. I’ll cook breakfast. You get dish duty.”

  “Shake on it,” I said, offering my hand. She took it, and I yanked her closer. “Sealed with a kiss is better,” I told her. “I haven’t kissed you in almost nine hours. I’m in withdrawal.”

  “Point conceded.”

  Her mouth was smiling when I took it. I meant to keep things easy and playful. The whole point of this swim was to lighten the mood, make her forget her worries for a while. But the kiss spun out, riding on the vestiges of adrenaline remaining from the race, heating, deepening. Her body fit flush against mine, our legs tangling with a delicious friction
as we each kicked to stay above water.

  Her arms twined around my neck, hands sliding into my hair. I gripped her hips, hitching her higher, glorying in the slide of skin against skin. She shifted beneath my hands, lifting her legs to wrap them around my waist. Her low purr of approval stripped away my sanity and left me desperate for more. Somewhere amid the tiny gasps and growls of pleasure, a trickle of something else snaked out and wrapped around the fist of need. I tried to shove it away, to lose myself in the taste of her and the feel of her body against mine. But it took root and yanked me back.

  I tore my mouth from hers. “Stop.”

  She tried to kiss me again, but I pressed my forehead to hers. “Elodie, stop. We can’t.”

  With a noise of frustration and a little wiggle, she made it very clear that if I’d just shut up, we most definitely could. I prayed for strength.

  “We’re not prepared for this. I don’t have any kind of protection with me and despite the fact that you’re prepared for nuclear winter with all your provisions, you’re not prepared for this either.”

  Elodie said nothing, but the breath that had been hard and fast began to slow. She unwrapped her legs, and I nearly choked on my own breath as she slipped back down to a less precarious position.

  “Besides,” I choked out. “If we do this now, before you shift, no matter what I’ve told you, there will always be a part of you that wonders if I was wrong.”

  She pulled back and I let her go because I didn’t trust myself to keep touching her. My body felt cold without her pressed against it.

  “You’re right,” she said quietly. “You’re right.” She took a breath and sank beneath the water.

  Nature’s cold shower, I thought.

  Nearly thirty seconds passed before I started to worry when she hadn’t come back up. Then I heard the splash well beyond the waterfall.

  “Elodie.”

  I dove through the falls to go after her. She was already halfway to shore.

  “Elodie, wait.”

  But she didn’t slow. If anything she moved faster. Before I reached the halfway point, she was scrambling up the bank, grabbing her clothes and sprinting for the tent.