Page 24 of Riding with the Rejected Wolf

“Don’t you fucking call her that,” I roar, the beast in me clawing to get free. With a deafening crack, my knuckles turn into claws. “Get inside, Mika. And lock the door.”

Mika flinches back, but she doesn’t move from the doorway.

"Listen closely, Henry," I growl, my voice laced with a promise of violence as my wolf forces its way out. "Mika is under my protection. You take one step closer, and I'll rip you apart, limb by limb."

I get the final word out just as I lose control, my body transforming into my wolf form in a matter of seconds. Henry’s eyes widen in terror, and he starts to back away, stumbling over his own feet.

“Oh, fuck,” Henry mutters, turning to flee. “What the actual fuck!”

Panic rises in his throat as I stalk toward him, my eyes locked on his, a low growl rumbling in my chest.

“No. No. No. I’m sorry. I’m leaving. I’m leaving!”

I give him just enough of a head start to make it sport. Then when he’s far enough out of Mika’s sight, I break into a run, my powerful legs propelling me forward. The distance between us shrinks rapidly, and Henry’s face contorts in terror. With a swift leap, I pounce on him, my claws sinking into his flesh. He screams. And I make sure the last thing he sees is my bared teeth.

MIKA

The End of the Nightmare

Ifocus on feeding the fire in the hearth, watching as it casts flickering shadows across the cabin walls. My hands tremble, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. Silas promised Henry would never get to me again, and the reality of knowing he’s out there ‘taking care of things’ settles a weird kind of comfort over me. I know I should be shocked, and maybe even disturbed about what I know is happening in my name. But I’m not. With Henry gone, I’m free.

No more running. No more hiding. I can finally breathe without looking over my shoulder every two seconds.

The sound of paws padding against the wooden porch breaks me out of my thoughts, and I quickly get up and unlock the door.

Silas stands there, his wolf form menacing, the moonlight glinting off his fur. He’s a sight to behold, an eerie blend of terrifying and magnificent. His eyes—those same piercing eyes that always seem to read my soul—lock onto mine, and I can see the human part of him within the beast. Relief washes over me, so potent it leaves me weak-kneed.

“Are you hurt?”

The wolf pads into the cabin, its movements fluid and graceful despite its size. It stops in front of me, and I swear I hear the words, ‘I’m fine’ before he continues on and disappears into the bathroom.

“Did I just…hear you in my head?”

The sound of the shower turning on drowns out my words. I stand there for a heartbeat, frozen in place as I just listen. Then, unable to resist the pull of concern, I move toward the bathroom door. My hand hovers over the knob, hesitation warring with worry. What if he’s hurt and he needs me?

Pushing the door open, I gasp at the sight before me. Silas stands beneath the stream of water, his back to me. But it’s the water pouring off him that has me concerned, water that’s tinged red with blood.

“Silas!” My voice is a choked whisper. “You’re hurt!”

He turns, his expression unreadable. “It’s not my blood.”

My stomach lurches. “Henry?”

He nods once, a curt movement of his head. “He won’t bother you again.”

I should feel relief. I do, a bit. But mostly, I feel like someone’s gut-punched me. The weight of years spent running crashes down on me, making my knees buckle. I grasp the doorframe for support.

Silas steps out of the shower, droplets of water trailing down his rugged form as he closes the distance between us and catches me. "It’s OK, sweetheart. It's over. You're safe."

I melt into his embrace. “Safe,” I repeat, the word foreign on my tongue.

My fingers tighten around his arms, feeling the solid muscle beneath. How can a man—no, a wolf—be so comforting and terrifying all at once?

His eyes soften, breaking the usual sternness. "Yeah, safe," he murmurs, thumb brushing my cheek. "You can stop running."

I don't even realize I'm crying until his thumb wipes away a tear. I look up into his eyes, the intensity of his gaze making my heart stutter. He leans in slowly, giving me all the time in the world to pull away. But I don’t. I welcome the warmth of his lips on mine, tender and gentle, like he’s afraid I might shatter. The kiss starts slow, exploring, testing boundaries. But as the reality of what just happened sinks in—Henry is gone, Silas took care of it all for me—something inside me breaks free. The kiss deepens, a hunger neither of us can ignore.

His hands slide up my arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. I thread my fingers through his wet hair, pulling him closer, needing him nearer. The heat between us intensifies, almost scorching in its urgency. Then he pushes the robe off my shoulders and it falls to the floor in a soft heap. His eyes roam over my body, darkening with desire, and before I know what’s happening, he’s pulling me back into the shower and pressing me against the cool, tiled wall. The sudden contrast of temperatures sends a shiver down my spine, but the heat radiating from Silas is all-consuming. The water cascades over us, washing away the remnants of the night—my past—leaving only raw need between us.

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