Page 45 of Season of the Wolf

A warrior by nature, he didn’t show much emotion outside the depth of our connection, but I knew he missed them. There were a lifetime of stories and experiences that bonded them, and I was excited for him to have that back.

To havethemback.

He was quiet again, like he was waiting for me to continue on my own. But when I didn’t, he asked the same question as before.

“Is there anything else?”

I shook my head. “No, there’s nothing.”

The silence returned and I wondered if that meant he didn’t believe me. But then, he asked a more pointed question that accounted for the momentary silence.

“Nothing new with Nick?”

There was no malice infused in the question from what I could tell. Only concern.

Just as I fixed my mouth to, again, tell him there was nothing, I recalled the strange exchange between us tonight after the meeting. Thinking about it now, I shifted a bit, still feeling uneasy.

“Well … I’m not even sure it’s worth mentioning, but … things got kind of weird when I saw him at the library.”

Even before speaking, I sensed Liam’s tension.

“Weird how?”

That question wasn’t exactly easy to answer, seeing as how I had no idea what happened.

“We were talking for a bit, and then he just … started being strange, saying something about a noise, but therewasno noise. No one else seemed to notice anything, so I think it was just him.”

Liam was like a statue behind me.

“And this noise, he didn’t hear it until he got close to you?”

All traces of fatigue had slipped away. I stared at silhouetted branches outside his window when answering.

“Seemed to. Not right away, but it got worse the longer he stood there. And then he ran off before I, oranyone,could ask if he was okay.”

Liam’s heart thundered against my back as he held me.

“Does that mean something’s changed?” I asked, trying not to let my voice quiver like I feared it might.

“It could, but … what?” He was just as baffled as I was. “Maybe this is something we need to run past Hilda.”

A rush of cold air swept over my naked flesh when he lifted the cover. “Wait … now?” I protested, his urgent reaction making it hard not to smile. “I’m sure she’s still in the basement with Maisy, and besides … whatever the answer is, it won’t change if we talk to her in the morning.”

He sat on the edge of the bed for several seconds, leaving me to guess what he’d do next—rush downstairs like a madman, demanding answers; or let it be for now, and continue to lie with me.

My back warmed when he took his place beside me once again. There was more static in the air than before—a sign he was a bit on edge—but at least he wasn’t being hasty.

He’d never get to sleep like this, though. On edge. Worried.

I turned to face him, staring as his beautiful eyes glistened in moonlight.

“You haven’t finished forgiving me,” I said, touching my lips to his right after.

He seemed confused, which I expected.

“When you told me the story about us, about how you finally helped me see you,” I explained. “You said I …forgaveyou three times that night, right?”

It only took him a few seconds to catch on when I finally smiled, giving him a hint as to what I had in mind, showing him further when my kisses moved to his chin, his neck.

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