Page 32 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

Departure. Why was it that everyone in her life was always trying to find a way to get rid of her?

Her throat burned.

And suddenly she couldn’t wait to get the hell out of the study and into a space where she could be alone.

She whirled and grabbed her suitcase handle. Who cared if the stupid thing was stuck? The bag still rolled. She tugged it to the doorway. The darkened hall beckoned. Maybe she’d skip eating and just go to bed. The sooner she fell asleep the sooner this nightmare would be over.

“Miss Michaels.”

The deep voice made her stop and spin around. “What.”

Bard sat behind his desk once more. The dark eyebrow went up at her blunt tone. He studied her, his gaze shrewd. “Make sure you eat something. And drink some water. Altitude sickness can knock anyone on their ass, even a werewolf.”

She licked her lips. “All right.”

He nodded. “Very well.”

Okay, then. She gripped her bag tighter and turned for the door. Never leave an Alpha in silence. The admonition—drilled into every wolf from a young age—rang through her mind. It was considered an insult to leave an Alpha’s presence without speaking first.

But she couldn’t face him again. “‘Night,” she mumbled, stepping into the shadows and moving down the hall.

If he answered, she didn’t hear it.

Her stomach rumbled again, and her hand gripping the handle tingled.

The same spot where he’d touched her.

She squeezed harder.

It was just the lingering effect of the healing. Nothing more. Nothing worth dwelling on, anyway.

Because she was leaving in the morning.

And she wasn’t ever looking back—not at the Washington Territory and certainly not at Bard Bennett.

* * *

She didn’t look back.

Bard stopped pretending to look at his laptop screen. There was no reason to act busy—not now that Miss Michaels had gone.

Haley. It was an unconventional name, but it suited her. Maybe her parents had named her after the comet, that rare streak of fire that lit up the night sky once or twice in a lifetime.

He shoved the laptop away. She wasn’t going to light up his lifetime. She wasn’t going to be around long enough for that.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been so blunt with her. Her eyes had brimmed with hurt when he told her she was leaving in the morning. Goodness knew, he’d bungled their meeting from the start, first by accusing her of being a witch and then by refusing to let her stay in his territory. He hadn’t always been so bad with people. In the past . . .

Out of nowhere, fresh pain bolted down his thigh. He hissed as fire seemed to lick at his quad muscle, the flames searing him from the inside out. Instinct made him grab at his leg with both hands, the heat of his Gift at the ready.

A bitter laugh welled in his chest. Most Healers could treat themselves, especially if they were otherwise hale and healthy.

But he wasn’t an ordinary Healer.

He wasn’t ordinary at all. And that was just one of several reasons why Haley Michaels needed to be on the first flight back to New York. She shouldn’t have come in the first place.

But no one had asked him.

Anger flared in his gut, even as his quad twitched, the overworked muscle firing helplessly. He gripped his leg in both hands and bent his head, letting his good eye drift shut against the pain.

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