Page 35 of Wolf Fated

I stiffen at his words, the first inkling of unease prickling along my nape. "What do you mean?"

"Something about him was a little off." Zane spreads his hands in a placating gesture. "Ferals don't come into populated town areas. They sure as hell don't go sniffing out closed cabins, prying open locked doors and windows to get inside. And they definitely don't seek out a sleeping, vulnerable mate before just...waiting around for the Alpha to show up."

The bottom drops out of my stomach as realization washes over me in a sickening wave. He's absolutely right—that whole scenario makes no sense for a typical feral attack. One look at Zane's grim expression tells me the thought has occurred to him as well. I’ve been so consumed with myself, I haven’t done my job as sheriff or Alpha. That should have been the first thing I noticed.

The hairs along my arms and nape prickle. Zane is right. Ferals have lost the ability for higher thought. They act on instinct alone, little more than rabid wild wolves themselves, albeit wolves that reap a lot more damage.

That feral didn't want to kill Sarah. Not at first anyway. He wanted me to find them together, to send me into a blind rage before...before what? Taking me out while I was distracted protecting my mate?

But why?

But before I can articulate any of these swirling theories, movement outside catches my eye. I glance up just in time to see a small navy blue Honda Civic drawing into the parking lot in front of the station. The driver's door opens and a curvy figure unfolds, long red familiar curls spilling over a green sweater as she glances around uncertainly. It takes long moment for me to make sure I’m not hallucinating.

Sarah.

My mate.

She…she's back!

I'm frozen for a single gut-punched moment. She looks thinner, paler, with bruised half-moons beneath her eyes...but still the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on.

Then her gaze lifts and locks onto mine through the window, piercing and electric even at a distance. My chair clatters over as I surge upright, staggering for the door in desperation.

Zane is forgotten, the whole world narrowing to this singular, shining point of light in the darkness of my existence.

"Sarah," I breathe as I stumble out onto the sidewalk. I search her expression for any hint of fear or revulsion. But there's only wary longing and heartfelt sadness reflecting in her eyes.

Gathering my tattered shreds of hope, I start toward her again. "You came back..." I want to add ‘to me’ but I can’t articulate the words.

Sarah hesitates. "Are you sure you even want to see me again?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, laced with trepidation and self-doubt. "After how I left...you should be furious with me."

Confusion wars with the tidal wave of relief and longing crashing through me. "Want to see you? Sarah, seeing you here is the answer to every dream, every prayer I've had since you walked away." I take another tentative step closer, drinking in the delicate slope of her jaw, the familiar blend of wildflowers and warm summer rain scent of her calming the surging emptiness inside me. "I want nothing more than to see you with every fiber of my being."

Her teeth worry at her lip, catching the tender flesh. "Is that why you put money in my account? So I'd have to come back to pay you back?"

My stomach plummets at the implication—that she's only here out of some misguided sense of obligation, not by her own choice to embrace our bond. "No, sweetheart. I couldn't let you leave town with nothing to your name, not after that bastard cleaned you out." The thought of her trying to start over with nothing makes me grind my teeth in quiet fury. "I had to make sure you were taken care of, even if you never wanted to see me again."

Sarah's eyes widen at the vehemence in my tone before softening. "So I guess it was you who got Mark to give me back my money too, huh? I probably shouldn't be surprised."

A rueful smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as I remember phoning the little weasel and threatening every legal consequence I could dredge up. “Having friends in high places, like witches who work out in the human world, made backing up my threats too easy. Kathy was more than happy to cast a little "incentive" spell Mark’s way when I told her what Mark had done to you. I hear it on good authority he’ll be celibate for about a year, whether he wants that or not.”

Sarah huffs out a surprised chuckle. "Should've had her make it two years if you ask me." She shakes her head, squaring those slender shoulders as if bracing herself. "But that's not why I'm here, Mitch. I...I came to see you."

The words are like a physical blow, momentarily stealing my breath. This is it—the dressing down I've been dreading and internally lacerating myself over for weeks. I steel myself for the onslaught of justifiable anger at how thoroughly I broke her trust, shattered any chance at the happiness we could have shared.

I'm not prepared for the ragged emotion lacing Sarah's voice, or the shimmer of unshed tears in her warm green eyes. "I…need to apologize. For leaving you like I did when I should have known better. I should have trusted you, Mitch. But most of all..." She swipes angrily at the dampness spilling over her lashes. "Most of all, I should have trusted myself and the bond between us. None of this would have happened if I'd just had a little faith."

My wolf stirs, emerging from his self-imposed exile. He sits up straighter as Sarah continues, more alert and engaged than he's been in weeks.

"This whole time, I've been so angry at myself for not listening to my own heart. For letting my stupid doubts sabotage the most precious, miraculous thing fate has ever given me. For letting a scumbag like Mark make me think the worst of myself." Her lower lip trembles, but her gaze remains locked fiercely on mine. Pleading for understanding, for a second chance I would have walked through fire to grant.

"I don't know if you can ever forgive me for that, but I owe you the biggest apology of all." She reaches into her car and retrieves a sheath of neatly stacked paper. Then, wordlessly, she extends it toward me.

"What is this?" My breath catches in my throat as I read the title on the top page: Wolf Fated. "Sarah...you wrote a book? About wolf shifters?"

I glance up at her, reeling between wonder and disbelieving awe.

Sarah gives me a small nod. "I...I owe the biggest apology to your wolf, Mitch. More than anyone, it was him I gravely underestimated and misjudged that night."

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