Page 12 of Riding with the Rejected Wolf

“Damn it, Mika.” His voice comes out as a growl as he tears his mouth away from mine. “I can’t do this.”

"It's OK," I whisper, my hand still curled around the back of his neck, fingers in his thick hair. "I want this. I want you."

He shakes his head, a pained look in his eyes. "You don't know what I am. What you're getting into."

And there it is, that flash in his eyes again. I pull back slightly, confusion and hurt swirling in my chest. "What do you mean?"

"You're better off not knowing," he mutters, stepping back, putting an agonizing distance between us. His eyes avoid mine as he looks to the windows, his hands raking through his too-long hair. "I should go. The storm has let up enough up so..."

I grab his wrist before he can bolt. “No, wait. You don’t get to do that—kiss me like your life depends on it and then run off.”

He looks down at where I’m holding him. “Mika, you’re safe now. I promise. But right now, you’ve got to let me go.” When his eyes lift to mine, I swear I see it yet again. A flash of bright amber that takes over the blue of his iris and makes me suck in my breath and step away from him. “I’ll watch over you.”

Before I can process what I just saw or question him further, he turns around and walks out the door. I watch him go, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to make sense of everything that just happened. His kiss, the way he touched me, and the look in his eyes—it all felt so real. And then there were those flashes where his eyes changed color and… No. It can’t be. I must have been imagining things.

I push the strange thoughts away and move over to the window like I’m hoping that maybe he’s still there. But when I look out, there's no trace of Silas. Nothing except for the slightest bit of movement in the treeline. And that’s when I see it—the giant black wolf, standing at the edge of the clearing, watching the cabin.

Without thinking, I go straight out onto the porch, a warm blanket in hand.

"Hey, big guy," I call out softly. The wolf’s head snaps up, and he locks eyes with me. I take a tentative step towards him, the blanket held out in front of me like a peace offering. “I don’t know why I think this, but you’ve got something to do with the biker, right? Like, you two are connected somehow?”

The wolf doesn’t move, but he lowers his head submissively and I can’t help but let out a slight laugh as I press the flat of my palm to my forehead like it’s somehow going to make all of this make sense. “I’m probably going crazy from the stress of running, aren’t I? Like, this is some kind of mental break I’m having, and both the biker and you aren’t even real.” I roll my lips together and let out a sigh. “I am definitely having a mental breakdown, and I should probably seek professional help. Right?"

The wolf lets out a low, rumbling sound that feels like it vibrates through my chest, and when I look up, he’s standing right in front of me, meeting my eyes.

“Why do your eyes look like his?” I whisper, as I swallow hard and reach out a hesitant hand to touch the wolf's fur. The wolf doesn't move away, instead leaning into my fingers, his warm fur brushing against my hand.

"You're real," I murmur, still trying to process everything that's happening. "But you’re not…you’re not him, right? People and wolves can’t... So you can’t be.” I back away slightly as the wolf continues to study me, as if it understands every word I’m saying. Then I lean forward slightly and whisper, “Silas?”

The wolf does nothing. It simply looks from me to the blanket, then steps back a little and sniffs at the bare wooden planks of my porch.

“Oh, you want me to lay this out for you?” I ask, picking up on the subtle cue. The wolf seems to nod its head, and I quickly spread the blanket out on the porch for it. It hops onto the blanket, turns in a circle and then lies down, making itself comfortable with a gentle huff.

“OK. So there’s a giant wolf taking a nap on my porch.” I let out a sigh, rubbing my head again as I look at the massive wolf curled up on my blanket. "And you’re not Silas—I don’t know why I ever thought that. That kind of thing only exists in stories.” I rest my weight against the cabin’s exterior wall. “But what am I now? Snow White? God. This is all so messed up," I mutter, shaking my head. "But you know what? I do feel safer knowing you’re here. And if by some wild coincidence it is because of Silas that you’re here, tell him I said thanks—not that you can talk or anything, but you get my drift. Or you don’t. God. Maybe I am going crazy."

The wolf doesn’t move, just continues breathing deep like it’s trying to go to sleep, and I feel a bit silly talking to a wild animal like this. So I just tell it good night and retreat back inside my cabin.

As I close the door behind me, I can't shake off the feeling that something strange is going on. A biker coming to my rescue and a wolf lying on my porch, acting like a dog wanting affection in the space of one afternoon—it's just not normal. But then again, neither is my situation. And believe it or not, there's something oddly comforting about having this big furry protector lurking outside my door. For once when I get into bed, I don't feel alone or scared. Instead, I feel a strange sense of peace washing over me. And for the first time in a long while, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m not alone anymore.

SILAS

The Call and The Confession

On the edge of town, I find a secluded spot without any prying locals and lean against my bike, phone pressed to my ear while I watch the sun peek out over the horizon. The crisp morning air nips at my skin, but I barely notice it. My mind is too preoccupied with Mika and the mess she's in.

“Kade,” I say as soon as he picks up. “We’ve got a situation.”

“Tracker, what’s going on?” Kade’s voice is rough, like I just pulled him from a deep sleep.

“That Henry Richards we met at the broken diner. Our instincts were right about him. He’s not her husband. He’s her stalker. The guy’s a fucking psycho. She’s been running from him for years.”

“You gonna bring her in?”

“No. I can’t do that. Especially not when…” I pause, running a hand through my beard as I force myself to say the words I’ve only spoken in my mind until now. “She’s my mate.”

“What? Didn’t your mate just get engaged to some wolf prince or something?”

“Not the mate who rejected me. The woman Richards sent me to find. She’s my mate—a human mate.”

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