Page 11 of Promise & Artem

Promise inhaled again, letting her wolf out a little. “I smell that too, but also the leather and cinnamon.”

“Maybe…I don’t know actually,” Isolde said with a laugh. “Maybe your nose is on the fritz.”

“Maybe.”

She met the couple who ran the four-wheeler tours—Brierley and Axtyn—who greeted Promise warmly.

“If you want to go on a four-wheeler tour, just let us know,” Brierley said with a wide smile. “Our son Artem does tours in the afternoon.”

“I do too,” Isolde said.

“Only if you want to get lost,” Axtyn said.

“Dad!”

Promise grinned. She loved family banter. It was clear that Isolde had a great relationship with her parents.

“Thanks for the offer, it was nice to meet you both.”

“We’re heading to the welcome center to grab lunch,” Isolde said. “See you later.”

“Have fun,” Brierley said.

They continued their walk around the campground with a stop at a very cute studio-style cabin, that had one large room with a Murphy bed and a kitchenette, plus a bathroom and a small laundry closet.

“I love it,” Promise said, looking out the back door at the woods. “It’s perfect.”

“I hope you find your truemate soon and he lives in the area,” Isolde said. “It would suck if you came all this way and had to keep traveling.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be worth it to find him, though.” Wherever he is.

Once more she thought about the leather and cinnamon scent and wondered who it belonged to.

Promise woke while it was still dark out, feeling disoriented. As her eyes adjusted to the moonlight through the open window, she remembered she was in a cabin in the mountains.

But it wasn’t the location that had woken her, it was the strange dream.

She’d dreamed she was in an arena with a cheering crowd. Everything was smokey, like someone had lit a large bonfire and wind had blown the smoke into the arena. The ground was sand, and the stands creaked as the crowd rose to their feet. Ahead of her just inside the arena was a male with broad shoulders and a tapered waist. He wore jeans that hung low on his hips, and there was a large scar between his shoulder blades.

He moved like a predator, confident in his ability to take on anyone who came against him. Something about him called to her, made her want to close the distance between them.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came. When she tried to go to him, she couldn’t move any farther into the arena. The crowd, now obscured by the thick smoke, roared its approval, and the male strode forward into the shadows and smoke, leaving her alone.

As the dream faded when she woke, she could only lay back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, remembering the way the male moved, all grace and deadly intention.

Who was he? And why was she so attracted to a male in a dream? It seemed impossible to even consider, but she couldn’t help but wonder…had she dreamed about her truemate? Had coming to Little Hope triggered some kind of vision?

Grabbing her phone, she looked at the time and saw it was nearly two a.m. Far too late to call Rio or London, and whatwould she say anyway? That she’d had a weird dream and was a little turned on by the bare back of a male she had never seen before in her life?

Rolling to her side, she stared out the window at the darker shadows of the trees, the moonlight highlighting the trees. Her wolf let out a curious whine in her head and she mentally shrugged.

She didn’t know what the dream meant, and maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe it was simply too much chatter about finding her truemate and having an adventure, and her subconscious put together some weird dream about it.

But she wasn’t sure she believed that.

On Saturday, Artem didn’t get back from the campground until late with the four-wheelers, and it took him and Kieran an hour to unload them into the workshop so they could be checked out, tuned up, and ready to be put to use.

“I’m hitting the bar in town,” Kieran said, rolling his neck. “I need a drink after sitting in the damn truck all day.”

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