Page 11 of The Hidden Guardian

He repeats me, his growl sounding like more of a purr as he says, “Rawe-trum.”

“Close enough.” I shrug and point to his chiseled chest expectantly.

He wraps his hand over my finger. “Rrren—all.” His Rs are rolled, but I understand.

“Renall?”

He nods, releasing his hand from mine.

“Renall.” I point to him. “Autumn.” I point to me.

“Rawe-tum. Rrren-all.” he mimics.

I offer a small smile. “Yes, okay, now we are getting somewhere.” When I look up his eyes are on me, and his fingers graze my cheek. It sends a shiver down my chest, coiling low inside me.

As if sensing my reaction, his manhood stands at attention. Oh. My. Gods. “Okay,” I break eye contact for a second, my eyes dart to him …allof him. Oh Goddess. “Let’s get you some pants, Renall.”

I stand, breaking out of his touch and turn to my brother’s dresser. The thought of anyone wearing Colton’s clothes makes me sick, but what other option do I have? Nothing of mine will fit him, and I can’t seem to stop my eyes from traveling to his (very impressive) junk. Opening the dresser, on the top drawer I grab a pair of jeans, and as I pull them out, a notebook falls onto the floor. I toss the jeans at Renall and grab the notebook. I start to flip through the pages and notice that symbols and pictures are scribbled across them. The stranger approaches me now half-clothed and I shut the book from his prying eyes. Clothes are one thing; my brother’s private notebook will be for my eyes only—that is, when I finally have the mental fortitude to rifle through the pages.

Renall walks past me back into the living room; his demeanor has changed and his nose is up, sniffing the air again. With his back straightened, his shoulder muscles coil and twitch.

“Oh Gods, what now?”

He turns to me with a wild craze to his eyes, “Ro, Ro!” He’s pushing me out the front door.

“Ro? Hey, what do you–”

“Ro!” He growls angrily at me and for a second, I think he’ll throw me over his shoulder if I don’t comply.

“Go? Are you saying Go?”

“Ro!” he repeats desperately. His green eyes wild, begging me to understand.

“Go. I can’t go. This is my home.” I point to the floor.

“No.”

No? Did he just tell me no? NowthatI understand. “Yes.”

“No. Rawe-tum, Ro!”

“Autumn no ro!” I clench my fists. If this wolf thinks I’ll leave my Mother’s house, he’s in for a cruel awakening.

That’s when I hear it. The sound of a vehicle’s brakes stopping for the turn down my hidden driveway. I never get visitors. Who could it … But as the words enter my brain, my sixth sense already knows. The creepy hunters from work were looking for me. Realization hits me like a wave of cold water … all the ammo they buy every week, they all have the Sureshooter 300, fully capable of blowing someone’s—or something’s—face off. I also know about the custom-made bear traps they ordered. Gods, it was them. The hunters from work did this to my brother … to Renall? And they have found me.

I tear into my room with new determination. Grabbing some clothes and tossing them into the backpack I never unpacked from camping. I toss Colton’s notebook on top of my toothbrush and deodorant, and when I look around for Renall, he’s got the screen to my bedroom window busted out and he waves for me to follow. As I’m walking toward the window, my eye catches on a shard of Mother’s china. Unable to leave a piece of her behind, I zip it into my bag.

Renall disappears out the window. I dash after him, swinging my legs over the sill, and Renall waits under it with his arms outstretched. I fall into his hard chest. I don’t miss the way my heart skips as he slides me down his body to my feet before he grabs my hand. We run past my withering garden and dash off toward the tree line at the back of the house.

I hear crunching footsteps coming from the side of the garden closest to the forest, the spot that leads in the direction of the trap Renall was caught in. Car doors open and slam shut.

“They just left!” someone calls behind us.

“The woods! They’re in the woods!” one of them screams.

I glance back once before I disappear into the trees, taking in the tiny little cabin that I grew up in. The cabin my brother and I took our first steps in, where I did my homework, where my Mother taught me to garden. Instead, I’m met with the sight of the black SUV parked on my front lawn, and men dressed in all black stomping all over my precious flowers.

With that last look, I hold back the tears. Turning around, and with renewed determination, I try to catch up with a strange wolf-man.

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