Page 79 of A Bloom in Winter

As Mayhem took the female inside, Apex stayed out on the porch. He told himself that it was because he had to make sure that bastard Remis had really left. He told himself it was because he needed some fresh air. He told himself . . .

That it was not to look at the groundskeeping garage, and search that lineup of darkened windows or that slumbering truck for any sign of the wolven.

“So fucking stupid,” he muttered, his breath wafting over his shoulder.

Because what he was really searching for was answers: For what he could have done differently not just tonight in the kitchen, but all those nights back at that bedside, so long ago.

If Callum could only talk to him . . . maybe they’d work through some things together. After all, words could be bandages for injuries of the soul, and that was a two-way street. Spoken by, spoken to. And yes, he was jealous of fucking Blade.

It would have almost been easier if the two of them had just had meaningless sex. But noooo, thatsymphathhad said some combination of syllables that had unlocked Callum a little.

Apex wanted to be the help.Hewanted to be the savior.

“That fuckingsymphathhadn’t been at the bedside back in that prison—”

From out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flicker of movement at the forest edge. And he knew what it was before he turned.

Whoit was.

The great white-and-gray wolf was standing just inside the tree line, its fur camouflaging the position perfectly in all the snow.

So the predator had wanted to give its presence away.

As it four-pawed the way out from the pines, Apex was acutely aware that it could run faster than he could, and he glanced back at the big house’s entry. He could make it if the thing rushed at him.

Well . . .

As the cold wind blew around him and tightened the muscles of his legs, he was pretty sure he could make it.

While the wolf approached him, he became transfixed by the way its weight shifted, the power in that body hypnotic. The ice-blue eyes that had made a target out of him were right in front of the head, perched atop the long muzzle. They were a reminder that predators always had their visual center facing forward. Things like horses and cows and deer had eyes on the sides, so they could see what was coming.

Wolves and vampires were what was coming.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked. Like the wolf could speak English?

But maybe it knew voices . . . and maybe Callum was still in there.

He’d never gotten the chance to ask the male if he had any control over anything when the wolf was front and center. Were they two sides of the same coin . . . or two totally different entities who arm wrestled over the same set of cells?

Had Callum sent the wolf in against those coyotes? To protect Mahrci? Or had that been primal instinct to go after an easy meal?

Did Callum know the wolf was getting even closer . . . to Apex now?

Apex sank down onto his haunches and just stayed where he was. And that seemed like some kind of signal. The wolf came all the way forward, one paw after the other, not in the deep snow now, but on the drive that had been cleared.

By the other half of him, in that truck—

And then they were face to face, nose to nose.

Reaching out, he suspended a hand over the right flank—just as Callum had done to his face earlier. And he gave the animal plenty of time to move away, growl—snap at him. Bite his hand off.

When none of that happened, he stroked the springy, silky fur, passing his palm down the shoulder.

“Can you do me a favor?” he whispered.

The wolf snorted into the cold, but not in a way that seemed like a negative response.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He continued to pet the rangy, powerful body. “If he’s in there, tell Callum . . .”

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