Page 101 of Hawke

If Bram was to risk his life to keep us safe, it was the least I could do to offer refuge at the Iron Fang. That is, if Locke was alright with it in the end.

As we reached the second curve, just past the drive under one large tree, I dismounted my bike and watched a car go around us. Delilah unbuckled her helmet and sat it between her legs and slumped her shoulders.

Her eyes were drooping, her hair dripping with sweat. “Come on, Sunshine.” I wiped away the sweat from her forehead. “Let’s get you safe, alright?”

I picked her up in my arms, her head automatically leaning against my chest. My cut was rough against her forehead, but that didn’t keep her from purring against it.

Shit, she was purring.

“I told you.”

I rolled my eyes at my wolf, walking through the sparse underbrush and further away from the road.

“Where are we going, Hawke?” she muttered, her eyes closing.

“A safe place. Just beyond those trees over there.” I nodded forward.

At least, I hoped we were going in the right direction. I was going off memory.

“It’s okay, little mate. Hawke’s scrawny body will take care of you. Once we are safe, I will warm you,”my wolf purred.

“Is that your wolf?” Delilah leaned her head back, her eyes still closed.

I hummed in reply, trying not to curse the damned thing.

“Puppy, is that you?” she cooed, leaning her head back on my shoulder.

“It is I, your big Puppy. Is that my name?”

“You are not calling him Puppy, Delilah,” I ground out.

“Then what is his name?” she asked.

“He doesn’t have a name.” I felt myself push through a barrier, as if stepping through a three-foot wall of water. Once we passed through, a cabin appeared.

It was a small, redwood cabin with a chimney puffing out small wisps of smoke. Bushes decorated the outside, and flowers bloomed, but as I approached, they closed up as if I was the predator.

The area inside this magical bubble was quiet. There was no sound, no birds, no small creatures skittering across the forest floor. It was calm, but the weather reflected that of what it was on the outside of this veil.

“That’s so sad, Hawke. Didn‘t you give your wolf a name?” Delilah asked.

“No, the bastard didn’t give me a name!”my wolf wailed, milking the attention.“I’ve been with him since birth, fifty-four long years, and he hasn’t given me a name!”

“You’re old!” Delilah perked up. “Oh, my gosh, what an age gap. We can check that off my bucket list.”

“Old? Bucket list?” I snapped, walking up the steps of the cabin and pushing in the door.

The cabin was cool. It was very basic, with a fireplace, a wood-burning stove, a large basin that had a pump for a sink and a bed on the other side of the cabin. There was no bathroom, I would have to see if there was an outhouse out back.

“Yeah, a bucket list of all my favorite kinks to read. I’m living several of them. One is doing a werewolf.” She grinned. “One is doing a biker, one is doing it on a motorcycle, one is doing it in the woods, one is doing it in front of people, one of them is an age gap. You don’t look anywhere near fifty, though.” She tried to smile, but her spark of energy was already fading.

I groaned, adjusting myself. This woman was going to be the death of me. Most of those kinks I could accommodate, but like hell were we going to have a damned audience. I would let no one see what was mine.

I led her to the bed. It was clean despite the rare use of the cabin, and I laid her down. She protested and tried to get up, but I shook my head.

“Wolves live to be almost four hundred years old. I will age much slower now that we are bonded. Now be still.”

I went to the kitchen, grabbing a rag from a pile of fresh laundry. We would need to be sure to leave this cabin clean when we left. It would be common courtesy since we found it.

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