Page 10 of Wolf's Chance

I didn’t stop, moving back further into the woods before I looped back and approached her house, knowing that the shadows of the pines hid me well.

Her kitchen window was clear. The drapes were pulled across the bedroom window. Did she think someone would be watching? Or was she already sure it was me?

Willow remained home for the remainder of the day. Each time she was in the kitchen, she never looked up. She never looked outside once.

It was for that reason I never moved from my spot all night.

She knew someone had been there, and she was probably sure they were observing her, so her act of defiance was to show herself to them as she stayed in her home, unafraid, but notquitebrave enough to raise her head in case her hunch was true.

She didn’t want to see who it was. She didn’t want to be proven right.

My gut was also telling mewhoshe knew she’d see.

Me.

Watching.

Waiting.

Waiting for what? I was no longer sure.

FOUR

Willow

I heldhis gaze as he stared straight into my soul. I could feel my heart beating faster, and my palms grew sweaty as the heavy look saw past every defense I had.

“Jesus,” I muttered as I leaned back in my seat. The man from this morning watched me from my large sketch pad. “You shouldn’t be so darn life-like.”

Hearing my critique, I fought the smile. As an artist and a teacher, I always said that we wanted the portrait to look life-like, and instead, I was criticizing the effect. Reaching out, I smudged the charcoal at the edge of his face, which had been intended to create a shadow, and as I smoothed it out, the aura of danger he exuded was blended out, creating a more rounded cheekbone than the sharp line I had previously.

“You were in my house,” I spoke to the portrait as if he were in the room with me. It’d taken several hours of being at home before Istoppedlooking over my shoulder to check if I was alone. “You’ve seen Alistair use the key, haven’t you?”

The sketch did not reply, but I knew. Iknewhe had been inmy home. Nothing was out of place, there was no foreign smell in the rooms, but I could sense it. A sense that someone had been here. Someone I didn’t invite inside.

“He’s not a vampire, Willow,” I scolded myself. “He’s just a man.”

Just a man?Licking my lips, I studied his face. He wasquitethe man. He was freaking gorgeous, but that didn’t mean, just because he looked like an angel, that he was a saint.

Having met him this morning, I would say he was theexactopposite of angelic. Reaching out, I corrected the slight crease at the corner of his eye. Sitting back, I nodded as I took him in. Yeah, the slight smirk, the crinkle at his eye, that was how he looked this morning. Barely concealing his amusement as I spoke to him.

Not amusement.

Mockery.

He wore the air of arrogance effortlessly. It contrasted with his casual clothing, but as I studied the face in front of me, I knew this man was much more than the simple clothes he wore.

“What do you want with me?”

I’d thought about calling the police, but really, what could I do? Say that a guy I don’t know and have never met before was in my house today? But I can’t prove that he was. Also, I’ve been drawing him for the last couple of months but didn’t suspect he was real until Saturday. Oh, and I think he’s stalking me.

“I look like the stalker,” I muttered as I stood up. “Iapproachedhim. I sawhimfirst. Would you even have spoken to me if I hadn’t confronted you this morning?” The image stared steadily back at me. “Yeah, I know, you think I’m anidiot.” Pulling my hair off my face, I twisted it into a knot, using a hair tie from around my wrist to secure it at the nape of my neck. Walking over to the door, I looked back at him as he watched me leave. “If it’s any consolation, I think I’m an idiot too.”

My bed beckoned. It’d been a long day, but I was hungry. I’d tried to avoid the kitchen as much as possible, sure that he was out there, but the growl of my stomach told me what it thought of that idea.

In the kitchen, I put the kettle on the stove, emptied a can of soup into a mug, and placed it in the microwave. A few minutes later I took the cup of tea and the mug of soup to my room, the corner of a bag of chips held firmly between my teeth.

Once I was changed into pajamas, I grabbed my laptop out of my tote, snuggled under the blankets, fired up Netflix on my laptop, and did my best to forget about men with chocolate brown eyes and thick wavy hair, as I focused on the Winchesters and their drama.

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