Page 25 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

As if her gaze was drawn by a magnet, she risked another peek.

Was he lonely? Or just alone?

Her ears popped, making her jump. Immediately, a ringing started in her head.

His voice rumbled.

It took her a second to realize she couldn’t hear. Whatever he’d said was too muffled to make out. “I’m sorry, what?”

He turned his head, giving her a better view of his face—and probably allowing him to get a glimpse of her. With the patch over his right eye, he probably couldn’t see much on her side of the car. Sympathy welled in her chest. The lack of depth perception had to make it tough for him to maneuver in wolf form.

“It’s the elevation,” he said.

The words were still muffled, as if someone had stuffed cotton in her ears. She opened and closed her jaw, willing the sensation away.

He faced forward again. “You get used to it.”

She tried to think of a suitable response. Or any response. But then her gaze landed on his hands gripping the wheel.

The same hands that had gripped her arms as he snarled death threats in her face.

And now she was alone with him in the middle of a freaking mountain range. Super decision making.

She stared at his hands. There were a few scars on his knuckles, too, the skin puckered and shiny.

“Almost there,” he said.

She jumped again.

He didn’t seem to notice. Which was good. She didn’t need him thinking she was easily frightened or cowed into submission by his stunt at the airfield.

She looked out the window. There wasn’t a house or structure in sight. The terrain hadn’t changed since they left the airfield. Thick evergreens lined the narrow road like tall sentinels guarding a path through an enchanted forest. The branches were so thick it was impossible to see anything but—

There. A light in the distance. She squinted as they rounded a slight bend. The light grew brighter . . . and another appeared beside it. A second later, there was a break in the trees and the gray outline of a house emerged against the night sky.

Bard turned into a long, winding driveway. In the New York Territory, the Lodge was protected by big iron gates equipped with security cameras, and the forest around it was constantly patrolled by Hunters.

Here, there was nothing but trees. The house also sat atop a hill, which just heightened the security risk. Enemies could sneak right up to it.

The place was beautiful, though. She leaned forward as they got closer, her gaze roving over the property illuminated by two porch lights that showcased a stunning timber-framed porch. The rest of the house was a mixture of brown and dark green—as if it had been built to complement nature rather than dominate it.

Modest but clearly good quality, it had a sort of modern farmhouse look, with big windows and clean lines.

As they neared, Bard hit a button and the wooden garage door lifted. The SUV’s tires squealed softly as he pulled onto the concrete and stopped.

Haley gazed around. After the whirlwind events of the airfield and her confrontation with Bard, it was almost surreal to find herself in the middle of a very ordinary looking garage. Metal shelves lined one wall, and a pegboard sported various hammers and other tools. There was a red workbench and a shelving unit full of men’s shoes.

It was a well-organized, spartan environment.

And very much a male’s domain.

“Come on,” Bard said, unbuckling his seat belt. “I’ll get your bag.”

She tore her gaze from the shoe rack. Shit. She’d had the whole drive to figure out her next move, and she’d squandered it. Now she was at the Alpha’s house.

With the Alpha.

Alone.

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