Page 4 of Twist of Fated Mates
Well, he’s going to find out one thing about me, that’s for sure. I’m stubborn when I want something.
And I want Nigel.
Chapter Two
Nigel
It’sa strange experience to sprint for miles and not be out of breath. Stranger still to have no need of breath altogether. And strangest of all to run from the one thing I’ve longed for most in all my life.
My mate.
But nothing is normal anymore. Not since…I’d rather not dwell on that night.
The night air is too heavy with scattered smells. The ground is too alive with crawly critters. The forest is too loud with burbling brooks and whistling winds.
Even flowers are different now. My entire life, I took their beauty for granted without ever realizing. Their blooms, so vibrant and open during daylight, are shadowed and closed at night. Petals curl inward and tuck away for their own protection.
I pick one anyway—a pink daisy—and hold it up to my nose, its sweet mild perfume a far cry from the one I crave.
I sit on a fallen tree trunk next to the dilapidated cabin I’ve been holed up in the past four nights. It took that long to work up the courage to investigate the scent.His scent.
I know better than to trust myself around people.
The flower wilts in my hand. Another disappointment among many.
I hear him before I see him. The crispy snap of dry leaves beneath galloping paws gives him away.
Sure enough, a smallish wolf barrels through the woods, heading straight for me. He stops a mere couple of inches before me and huffs. Robin’s-egg-blue eyes glint under the silvery moonlight.
His sides heave. Unlike me, he possesses the privilege of being out of breath. His velvety fawn-colored coat begs to be stroked, but I hold my hands frozen in my lap, white-knuckling the poor pink daisy.
Though I’ve never seen it before, I recognize Charlie’s wolf form like I’ve known him forever. And there’s no missing that intoxicating perfume.
Mate, mate, mate, the lonely, battered wolf inside me echoes.
With a roll of his shoulders, Charlie shifts. Fur recedes to reveal pale, bare skin. Bones realign and glide into place. Tufted, furry ears disappear, and human ears—a little too big for his face but somehow still perfect—form beneath. Then ash-blond curly hair hides them away from my greedy view.
He’s naked, of course, as I knew he would be. I should avert my gaze, but I don’t. He’s close. Too close.
Nudity is normal between werewolves. Modesty doesn’t run in our genetics. And yet, a full-body blush pinks his freckled skin. It’s cute on him. Endearing. Alluring. All that blood rushing to greet me.
My hunger flares, and my warning bells go off. I can’t afford to be drawn in like this.
Charlie pouts, glaring at me, which is also annoyingly cute. “Why did you leave?”
“Why did you follow?”
“How could I not?”
“Well then, my answer is the same. How could I not?”
His stare hardens. “No, you had a choice. You could have stayed and talked to me, but you ran.”
“Not as much choice as you might think.” I look away, focusing on the forest floor instead of his body. His naked body. His very naked, very distracting body. “You’re not safe here. Not safe with me.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“You should.” I swallow, shoving my hunger down. “I can’t control these new urges. I could hurt you.”
