Page 51 of To Challenge a Wolf

Thirteen

The day after Vivian kissed him. The day after he found out she’d searched for him because she missed him. The day after he saw for himself that his pack were safe and slept harder than he had in four months.

Today was that day.

She had slept in town, in her room at the bed-and-breakfast. An early riser like him, but last night had exhausted him. Vivian might be tired too. He waited until noon to text her; she had no schedule here, and it was Sunday. She might have really slept in.

How long do you have the room for

He waited half an hour for her reply, while his body tensed more and more until he had to pace it off. No doubt she’d woke up this morning and realized the folly of everything she’d told him last night. Realized who she’d been talking to: a wolf trained to kill, skilled at snark and lousy at feelings. Hardly a catch.

She’d been wrong about one thing though. He didn’t have a life mate. There was no possibility in the universe that some other woman would show up in his life and bring out his bonding instincts the way mates in the pack had done to hisfellow wolves. While he paced his porch and growled, paced and growled, his phone buzzed in his hand.

Vivian:Hey! I only booked through tonight, so I need to find out if the room’s available for a few more days.

All the breath gushed out of his lungs. She wasn’t leaving. Hadn’t left. Wanted to stay longer than she’d planned. Something pinched in his chest. Odd. He typed a reply.

Okay. Thought you’d like to see my land if you brought good hikers

Vivian:I checked out the terrain before I got here, so yes to hikers, tough clothes, backpack. Would love to see your land. What time?

Anytime today.

Vivian:I’ll change and head your way. Food? For later, I mean?

Vivian didn’t do hints. She wasn’t asking if he’d take her out; she was asking if she should bring nutrition for the hike. His mouth curved as he typed.

If you can keep up with me, I’ll buy you a burger and a milkshake

Vivian:Strawberry or I won’t even try.

Liar. You can’t help trying to win at everything

Vivian:It’s a gift.

It was. He loved the blaze of competition in her eyes, the fight in every line of her body, especially when the contest was physical. His chest pinched again. He shut his eyes, and he could still see her at seventeen, begging him to spar with her so she could learn real self-defense and not the easy version her father’s trainer was teaching her.

Sparring with Vivian. The memory tugged old strings inside him. She’d been a difficult sparring partner partly because she threw herself at him with such risky abandon, and partlybecause he was responsible not to injure a human in any match Stone set for him. Stone said this taught control. He wasn’t wrong.

Vivian:On my way.

A glad growl burst from his chest. His home was spotless to military standards, yet he prowled the cabin straightening—the linen tablecloth, a throw blanket folded over the back of the couch, even his bedspread though she’d have no reason to enter his bedroom.

He heard and smelled her hatchback turn onto Lunar Lane, though his own property was at the end of the road. He’d been able to smell differences in vehicles since he was just a pup, at farther distances than other wolves. He’d known then his nose was strong, but he hadn’t told Stone. By thirteen he’d known better than to give his father any information that could be used against him later.

Her tires crunched gravel up his driveway, and then the vehicle shut off. From the time she’d gotten halfway down the road he’d smelled her black tea signature, and as she hopped out and jogged up to his front door, the nearness of her made him want to howl a song. She knocked, then opened the door as he crossed toward it.

“Good morning-but-not.” She grinned. “Hey, you look good.”

He was wearing a sleeveless black T-shirt and tan cargo fatigues. Nothing special, though the shirt exposed his arms. Vivian, though… Vivian looked amazing. Her sensible trail pants were bright-purple, and her athletic jacket was a sort of floral camo pattern in purple, gray, and black. Her black hiking boots were serviceable, not fashion-faux. She still knew how to dress sensibly for an outdoor trek, but of course she did it in purple floral camo.

He couldn’t find a way to say what she did to him, looking like this, strong and feminine and excited to join him up in the foothills he loved. So instead he said, “Ready?”

“Born that way.” She bounced in place to draw attention to her backpack, which was dove-gray with a reflector stripe for locating in the dark (if you were human and couldn’t find it otherwise). “Water and protein bars, emergency blanket, first aid kit, rope…all the things.”

“Same.” He pointed to his black backpack, parked by the door. “We should be in good shape if we encounter a landslide or a historic blizzard.”

Vivian laughed and preceded him out the door.

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