Page 123 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

In her mind, a faint note of alarm sounded.

The warmth spread . . . and grew. Suddenly, he wasn’t just hot.

He was burning.

Her eyes flew open. A gold glow blinded her.

She gasped and scrambled off him, then stood on shaky legs.

He was glowing, his good eye wide, his expression astonished.

Without warning, wind rushed through the conservatory—a warm breeze that tugged at her hair and rustled the roses. A million whispers filled her ears, swooping around her and whipping dried leaves into the air. They swirled around Bard, climbing and spinning. Faster and faster and faster. The wind became a torrent, spinning around his body and lifting him up. Glass and rose petals joined the leaves, swirling in tight bands that quickly encircled Bard’s body.

“Bard!” She stood, heart racing, unable to help. Her hair flew around her head. The wind tore at her coat. She reached out.

The wind buffeted her, nudging her back.

She held her hair out of her face, her heart beating a frantic rhythm. If the glass touched him . . .

But it didn’t. The bands surrounding him held their shape, swirling around him like ribbons.

His glow increased until it was an aura around him, the amber color streaked with tiny bolts of lightning. The wind held him up, his body seeming to float in the air. The whispers increased.

She reached for him again.

Again, the wind held her back.

Then it changed him.

Leaves, glass, and rose petals spun like a tornado around him. As they whipped in furious circles, the scars on his face faded. Jagged, puffy lines disappeared. The wind snatched his eye patch away, revealing his pale, withered eye and the starburst scar.

Haley met his gaze . . . and watched as the starburst faded and the film left his eye. Blue flooded his iris, and he looked at her with two whole eyes for the first time. His hair flew around his head, and the silver turned to black. Free of scars, his features were bold and pure, with a rugged jaw and full, firm lips.

She stared, heart racing, unable to look away. He was Bard from the vision, the young male who stormed away from the witch’s door and fought to lead his pack.

Yet he was also different. The arrogance and anger were gone. His eyes were clear.

And shining with a love so pure she forgot how to breathe.

The wind spun and spun, leaves and glass and rose petals flying. It tilted him so his feet pointed down. Slowly, it lowered him to the ground. As soon as he touched the tile, the glow faded from his skin.

As quickly as it came, the wind left. Shattered glass and rose petals fluttered to the ground.

Bard held his hands in front of him, his gaze full of wonder as he examined fingers free of scars. Then he looked at her and opened his arms.

She ran into them, letting out a whoop as he lifted her off her toes and twirled her around, his blue eyes crinkled at the corners. He spun them in a circle, his strong arms wrapped around her. Then he lowered her to the ground and cupped her face in both hands.

“What did you do?” he asked, awe in his voice as his gaze searched hers. “What did you do, you beautiful, wonderful, magical girl?”

“I . . . don't know.”

“True love’s kiss,” a low voice said behind them.

He lifted his head. Immediately, his expression darkened.

Haley turned in his arms. Sabine stood between them and Ben, who was helping a dazed-looking Glenna stand.

“That’s a real thing?” Haley asked.

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