Page 20 of Cruel Moon
The gravel crunches under my truck’s tires as I pull up to my cabin. The familiar scent of pine and wild sage envelops me as I cut the engine, but it’s overpowered by something else tonight. Something intoxicating.Bridget.
Her lavender and thunderstorm scent fills the cab, making my wolf pace restlessly beneath my skin. I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. This is really happening. My fated mate is here, with me.
“This is it,” I say, gesturing to the cabin. “Home sweet home.”
Bridget’s breath catches as she takes in the rustic structure, her gaze drinking in every detail—from the weathered logs to the sprawling porch. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers, her voice carrying a note of reverence.
A warmth spreads through my chest at her words, and I can’t help but stand a little taller, proud that my home has earned her approval.
I lead her up the porch steps, my hand resting lightly on the small of her back. The touch makes my wolf rumble with satisfaction.
I unlock the cabin door, my movements sure and deliberate despite the tension thrumming through my body. I guide Bridget inside, hyperaware of her warmth beside me, the subtle shift of her muscles under my palm.
“Welcome to my humble abode.”
The cabin’s open living area comes into view—worn leather furniture, a stone fireplace, and large windows offering a breathtaking view of the surrounding forest. It’s not much, but I can tell she likes it and that’s all that matters.
My hand lingers on her back as she takes it all in, and I have to fight the urge to pull her against me, to bury my face in her hair and breathe in her intoxicating scent. The wolf in me is restless, eager to claim, but I force myself to stay calm. We have all night, and I intend to savor every moment.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I say, gesturing to the couch. “Can I get you a glass of wine?”
Bridget nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
As I head to the kitchen, I hear her settling onto the couch. The sound of her heartbeat, slightly elevated, fills my ears. She’s nervous. Hell, so am I. This is everything. My fated mate.The one.
I pull out my phone while I’m grabbing the wine, unable to resist texting Rachel.
Me: Went home with a woman. She’s my mate, but her eyes are glowing green. Do you know what that means?
As I hit send, a giddy laugh threatens to escape my throat. It feels surreal, like I’m watching someone else live out a fantasy.My mate. Here.
The three dots appear almost immediately, sending a jolt of nervous anticipation through me. Rachel’s typing, and I canalmost hear her excited squeal from here. I pour two glasses of red wine, my hand trembling slightly as I try to focus on the task.
My gaze keeps darting to my silenced phone screen. Part of me is bracing for the inevitable teasing, but mostly I’m desperate for answers.
Rachel: Glowing green eyes? That’s what happens when a witch finds her kindred, her fated mate. She’s a witch. Who are you with?
A witch.I’m not surprised, but why hasn’t she said anything? Although, to be fair, it’s not like I immediately volunteered that I’m a werewolf. But she has to know if her eyes are glowing thatI’mher kindred—her fated mate. She knows.
Me: A tourist who was here for the Faire. Tell you more tomorrow.
After the message goes through, I shut my phone off. No more interruptions tonight. Rachel can wait. Bridget will come clean about everything when she’s ready. I can be patient. What matters is that she’s here, and she’s mine. I just need her to know this is it for me. She isitfor me. This is forever.
I step back into the living room, wineglasses in hand, and the sight of Bridget steals my breath away. She looks up, her glowing green eyes meeting mine, and the world tilts on its axis.
My chest tightens. This is what I’ve been wanting for years. Waiting for. The wolf in me howls in triumph, and it takes every ounce of control not to drop the glasses and pull her straight into my arms.
“Here you go,” I say, handing her a glass. Our fingers brush, and a thrill runs through me. From the way Bridget’s breath catches, I know she feels it too.
I settle beside her on the couch, close enough that our knees almost touch. The scent of her wraps around me like a life preserver. She’s what I’ve needed all along.
“So,” I say, taking a sip of wine to wet my suddenly dry throat. “What brought you to White Fork? Besides the Faire, I mean.”
Bridget’s gaze flicks away for a moment before meeting mine again. “Just…exploring, I suppose. Sometimes you need a change of scenery.”
I nod, sensing there’s more to the story. We just met. I want to know everything, but there will be time for that. We’ll have our whole lives. “Well, I’m glad you found your way here. Very glad.”
Bridget takes a long sip of her wine, and I find myself mesmerized by the movement of her throat as she swallows.
