Page 82 of The Girl in the Forest

There were times when I was tempted, when I couldn’t breathe without him nearby. I was ready to take and keep taking. As he was ready to do the same. Perhaps what we shared in those moments was more a curse than a craving. I’d wrap my arms around his lean waist, press against the hard warmth of his chest, and listen to his heartbeat. As if I was afraid it would stop.

He said it was the mating bond pulling us together, but what amazed me was how we both had not gone up in flames. His skin blazed, but never as hot as the energy I drew from him. Twice, he’d had to leave, and I’d stood in the doorway of his old home and watched him shift into the wolf. wishing desperately that I could run wild with him. Sleek, beautiful.

But I could not sleep on those nights when he was gone. I’d wait for him to come back, twisting in the sheets, holding his reeking shirt in our half-empty bed. And when he returned, he slid in silently beside me, and I curled against him, his skin still cold from wherever he’d been.

Always, when he slept, one arm was thrown over me as if part of him couldn’t believe what we had was real. That we were real.

But on the morning of the sixth day, the sense of borrowed time was back. He rose from the bed with a sweet kiss to my forehead and none of the ravenous sex that usually delayed our morning. I listened to the rushing of the shower. He hadn’t asked me to join him. Perhaps I’d been holding my breath, waiting for this day when we would finally talk about the witch cave and what had happened.

And talk about the girl Adriel told him about, the girl with silver in her hair, taken by the vampires.

CHAPTER 24

Noa

Grayson said it was another inner circle meeting, to be held around the wooden table in his parents’ house. The kitchen stove Fee disrupted was working again, and a modern coffee machine sat on the counter. Everyone thought we were staying there, in the house of memories, so it needed to look the part. A fire blazed in the fireplace. Dishes sat in the sink. Grayson’s childhood bedroom held traces of both of us. His shirt. My jeans, folded on the queen-size bed that nearly touched both walls. A book on the bedside table. A half-filled glass of water.

Puppy magic, I decided, helping the deception.

Fallon arrived first. She glanced around casually, then studied my face with what I thought was approval.

I was wearing the clothes I found in the closet that morning, soft jeans with a sophisticatedly casual look. I’d knotted a bright pink tee shirt at my waist. Strappy sandals clicked softly against the wooden floor. My hair was braided. Gold bracelets jangled around my right wrist, leaving Grayson’s sigil visible on my left wrist. Tiny gold studs glittered at my ears, and above them, tiny hoops, each with a diamond.

I didn’t look like myself, and yet I did, stronger, more confident. Comfortable in my skin. I held my arms open in an invitation and Fallon stepped close, hugging me back. She wore a faint perfume I hadn’t noticed before, and while she wore her usual leather vest, black shirt, jeans, her blond hair gleamed in the sunlight, still in its tight braid. But there was something… different about her. I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“You look good,” she said. “Both of you.”

“Thanks. I guess we needed the rest.”

“I’m sure.” Her wink was saucy, and I blushed. Perhaps Grayson told his seconds about our mate bond. He’d needed an excuse for taking time off from his alpha duties, and it had to be something they wouldn’t worry about, or come looking for him. For… us.

Mace was out in the yard, gripping Grayson’s forearm in greeting. My faille sight kicked in and I saw the two boys they’d been, fighting and talking and forming a bond that would last a lifetime. I pressed a hand to my throat.

“We should make coffee,” Fallon said, her back to the scene outside. She stood at the counter, busy with the preparations. I joined her, and moments later the kitchen was filled with male voices and large, muscular, capable bodies. The scraping of chairs—enough for all of us. I smiled at the benefits of magic, producing everything we needed. Then my gaze settled on the small leather journal I’d been using; it was waiting on the table. Days ago, Grayson suggested I write out everything I recalled from the visit to the Gemini Witches. To put events in my own words without the distraction of someone listening, judging.

The minor details had formed into a clarifying picture of what I thought happened, and would help make my explanation more impactful. There were so many worrying questions.

I glanced around, uneasy as I took my seat. Fallon distributed the heavy white mugs filled with coffee, although they remained untouched because no one seemed interested in drinking. Perhaps it was the caffeine. Or the dulled light streaming in through the windows that brought a somberness to the meeting.

Whatever it was, my bright pink tee and strappy sandals seemed suddenly out of place. I thought about changing clothes, but Grayson sat beside me, reached out and gripped my hand as Mace sat across from me.

“I’m sorry, Noa,” Mace said, folding his hands around the coffee mug that didn’t interest him. “But something happened to Sutter.”

My mouth dropped open. When? Why? We’d protected Sutter before we left.

Grayson’s voice stroked soothingly in my mind. “Just listen, Bedisa…”

The endearment chilled me.

“What happened?” I asked, scanning Mace’s face, seeing the deepening lines around his mouth. The darkening in his eyes—wolf eyes that flashed with retribution.

“Creatures attacked, a day after I left.” He breathed in. “I’d gone to ask about the girl. Jodan was there. Adriel’s father. He interpreted, protecting his daughter. No one knew about Adriel’s secret friend. Her name is Brin. No last name. Said it was a made-up name. She wrote everything in the dirt. That’s how they talked—writing in the dirt and then wiping the words away. A father, no mother. She was afraid because of the silver in her hair, wanted to run away. Adriel was helping her.”

“Where was her mother?” I asked.

“Presumed dead. The father looks good for it.” Mace’s tone was hard. Grim.

“Do we know where the father is now?” Grayson asked.

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