Page 9 of The Wolf and the Chimera
I hadn’t exactly expected a romantic declaration, but Ryder’s reply caught me off-guard. Part of me wondered if he was any happier about being irrevocably attached to me than I was about being tethered to him.
Though no one quite understood the magic that bonded mates together, it was rare enough to be considered a blessing. Many werewolves lived out the entirety of their long lives without ever finding their mate. They chose partners the human way, though from what my parents had taught me about wolf culture, all of them longed for the rare chance at a true soul mate—a bond so unbreakable, it was blessed by the gods.
It appeared Ryder didn’t experience that longing.
Before I could sulk over it, bones popped, and flesh stretched. When Ryder growled, I turned around and faced the huge, black wolf. He laid on his stomach, and this time I swung my leg over his back. As he stood, I clutched his fur for balance and squeezed my thighs. I had ridden horses before.
This couldn’t bethatdifferent, right?
As Ryder hurried into the forest, I realized a werewolf moved nothing like a horse.
Beneath me, his coat rolled with every pounding stride. Wind whipped my face and stung my eyes. I crouched lower against his body and sank my fingers deeper into his fur. The greenery of the forest blurred, and I focused directly between Ryder’s ears to keep from losing my balance.
I grew more accustomed to Ryder’s gait and realized the ground sloped downward. It took all my pitiful core muscles to keep upright. Soon, we approached a trickling creek that cut through a valley. Not only was the creek wide, but the mountain across from us was steep enough that I balked.
We didn’t slow down.
With the barest pause to rock his weight onto his haunches, Ryder leaped over the creek and onto the rocky terrain of the next mountain. As we landed, I lurched forward and wrapped my arms around his neck to keep from falling.
With a racing heart, I buried my face in his fur. Gravity pulled me back and my legs slipped. I gripped Ryder’s fur even tighter between my fingers. Ryder’s claws scratched against rock, and I didn’t dare lift my head. Eventually, the ground leveled, and I loosened my death-grip on Ryder’s neck.
The werewolf slowed. I looked up, and my breath caught. Gone was the rocky earth and towering trees. Ryder loped into a meadow filled with wildflowers, swaying grasses, and a huge cabin. Twilight cast the sight in shades of gold, which reflected on the many roaming wolves’ fur. As more and more of them noticed Ryder’s approach, they howled.
Ryder ran faster toward the looming, wood-paneled cabin, and goose bumps raised on my arms. The wolves’ many voices formed a song that filled my chest with an ache I couldn’t ignore. Though I didn’t speak wolf, I recognized their call for what it meant.
They were welcoming him home.
Home,I thought.I wonder what it's like to have one of those.
We neared the multi-level, wood-paneled cabin, and werewolves—in human form—stood on its wraparound porch with matching, teary-eyed grins. These people, dressed in simple jeans and t-shirts, loved Ryder—it was plain as day on their faces.
A behemoth of a man hurried down the cabin’s front steps, and they creaked under his bare feet. Immediately, I recognized him as Ryder’s father. He shared his son’s bright eyes, hulking frame, and dominant presence. Though his black hair was streaked with gray, he was a spitting image of an older Ryder. As a grin split his face, I amended my observation to an older,friendlierRyder.
“Son,” he greeted, “you’re back.”
Ryder lowered himself to his stomach, but I was suddenly hesitant to climb off his back. These people loved Ryder, but I wasn’t confident their allegiance spread to me—I wasn’t a wolf.
I was an outsider.
“Apologies,” Ryder’s father said and looked at me. His joy was palpable, and my heart ached for my own dad. “My name is Kaidan Blake, Alpha of the Hol Creek pack, but you can call me Kai. Welcome, daughter.”
Though he clearly assumed Ryder and I weretogether-together, tears pricked my eyes at his immediate acceptance. Rather ungracefully, I climbed off Ryder’s back and winced at my sore, stiff muscles. Beside me, Ryder shifted into his human form.
From a shelf beside the front door, a male werewolf grabbed a pair of jeans and tossed them at Ryder. Ryder caught them easily, but I only glanced in his direction once he straightened from putting them on.
“Dad,” Ryder greeted and grinned.
Ryder clasped my hand and led me toward the cabin. I wanted to pull away, but I had made him a promise. Whether I liked it or not, Ryder’s wolfish claim on me was crucial to my safety among his pack. I wouldn’t publicly denounce it.
Walking at his side also distracted me from admiring the rippling expanse of his many, many muscles.
Does his bicephavea bicep?
Without letting go of my hand, Ryder hugged Kai with one arm. When his father faced me, Kai picked me up and spun me around, which forced Ryder to release me. I grinned. Kai’s delight was contagious.
“My son has a mate!” Kai shouted and put me down. He cupped a large, callused hand against my cheek. “And she’s lovely. We must celebrate.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I greeted, though I feared Kai didn’t understand who or what I was.
