Page 54 of Mated Exile

The silence that falls in the woods is all-consuming and suffocating. I feel hot and awkward in it, despite the cool evening air flowing through the trees. Flashlight in hand, I glance over at Lance, but he looks just as steady and centered as always.

It's as if the kiss on the porch and the words he murmured in my ear never happened. Or, they did happen, but he's not nearly as hot and bothered by them as I am.

I'm more than a little tempted to reach out my awareness towards him and find out how he's feeling for myself, but I resist the temptation. I'd rather he tell me in his own words—especially now that I know how creative he is with his tongue.

"We should shift now," he says, turning towards me as he stops near a small clearing in the woods. "We'll be faster on four feet than on two, and able to follow a scent trail more easily."

"Alright." I lick my lips, nervous; though the shift came to me easily enough during the escape, I haven't reached for my wolf since, afraid that I'd find her missing. "How will we communicate while we're in wolf form?"

"We'll figure it out." He shoots me a soft smile. "After all, I've heard you're talented in your own special way, almost like a natural alpha is."

I blush a little, looking down. Though I told the guys about the night in the bar over text message—a quick note to let them know it seems I have at leastsomeof the hybrid powers we'd expect—I haven't really talked to them about it since. Broaching the subject feels dangerous, especially because of the fear I felt from the wolves in the bar, who didn't even fully know what I am yet were suspicious of me.

Lance adds, "But don't feel pressured to figure out wolf telepathy during our first run together. You have plenty of time to work on that."

Swallowing, I admit, "When Bastian and I ran, I didn't feel anything from him at all. We just kind of relied on body language cues."

"There's plenty of that, too. Especially when you're following a scent trail. If you're struggling or need to ask a question, just shift back, and I'll do the same."

Flicking off his flashlight, Lance places it at the base of a tree. I do the same with mine, shivering a little at his nearness. His body radiates warmth, and even in the sliver of waxing moonlight overhead, his eyes are warm and bright.

Lance shifts into his wolf first, turning into a large, shaggy, white-furred beast with a black nose, a black-tipped tail, and blue eyes. He shakes himself, and the scent of freshly fallen snow and pine needles fills the air, despite the late spring Pacific Northwest weather.

I take a moment to marvel at his beauty, the clean line of his arched back, power in his wide paws, and reflection of the moon in those bright blue eyes. Then I take a shaky breath, reach inside myself, and search for the wolf.

For a moment I think I won't find her. Deep, agonizing fear pulses through me. A hateful voice whispers that I'm no werewolf at all, but a fraud, some strange creature born outside the mate bond to a twisted witch who died shortly after my birth.

As soon as the thought passes, I feel the wolf inside me, strong and powerful. She leaps eagerly at my touch, happy to have the chance to run free, excited to do it alongside a strong male. I let her loose, my bones shifting, muscles surging, and skin tightening over a new form.

A moment later I'm standing in the woods next to Lance. I can see my white furred paws, can feel the stirring of the wind through it, but I can't see my own wolf, and for a moment I wonder what she looks like. I wish that I could look at her.

The moment I think that, a vision shimmers in my mind. It's a white wolf, not as big as Lance, or as bulky, with a pink nose and silvery white fur. She has one blue eye and one silver eye, matching my own heterochromia.

It takes me a second to realize that the image comes from Lance. I'm seeing myself through his eyes. Delighted, I shake my fur and yip at him, and he responds with a sharp bark. Then he shakes his tail, wiggles his hips, and leaps off into the darkness.

I follow him a few paces behind, enjoying the cool air on my fur, the surge of damp earth beneath my toes. We make good time, tilting our noses up to scent the air, and down to snuff in the ground. He shows me trails, pausing to paw at a vampire's scent here or there, but sends me little thoughts in bits and pieces:this one is two days oldorthis trail is weeks old at best.

Little by little, I start to be able to sort through the scents I catch and file them away. There's the musk of a rabbit's fur, the dusky scent of a deer, sharp urine where prey has marked a trail, and most potent of all, the rotten stench of vampire flesh. It settles in my nose and makes me sneeze with disgust each time I catch it, the smell of reanimated human corpses nowhere near appealing.

To think, humans write romance novels and swooning television shows about these things.Disgusting.

We follow several old scents down their trails, searching for something new, but each scent eventually comes to an end. Pawing the ground and tilting our muzzles up to the breeze, we keep looking. There has to be something here—some sign of the bloodsuckers, who surely didn't go to all that effort to take me only to let me go just like that.

But there's nothing fresh in our part of the woods. Hopefully Kieran, Roarke, and Finn will have found something. I don't think I can stand the thought of just waiting around for them to attack, knowing it will happen any day, but unable to do a single thing about it.

* * *

As Lance and I head back to the spot where we first shifted, he changes back into his human form. Stopping in my four-legged lope, I change back as well, after taking a moment to say goodbye to my wolf.

I feel the tinge of unhappiness in my mind as she ripples beneath my skin and my four legs turn back into two, so I make a silent promise that I'll let her out again soon. She deserves that much, after so many years being trapped inside my body by the hateful chip.

Looking at Lance, I raise a brow in question. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?"

"Not really." He paces over beside me and starts walking sedately towards the spot with our flashlights. "I just didn't want the night to end too early."

"Oh?" I clear my throat and lick my lips, pulse suddenly racing. "Why is that?"

"Because I wanted more time with you, Delilah."

---