Page 50 of Dead Wolf Walking (Bad Moon Academy 1)
Yes,I think back at my wolf.
We growl and Draco chuckles.
“I suspect she doesn’t want to flee.”
It’s not losing if we go for food, right? What’s more important? Him or food?
There better be steak,she mutters.
Food always works.
“You can only run for so long before I catch you.”
He can fucking try. We toss our head up and howl, letting the sound echo around us before turning and sprinting toward the academy, both of us determined to beat him.
Draco shifts; I sense the change in the air, and when his wolf sets his sights on me, it’s like a heavy blanket lies across my back.
Good thing we’re faster.
We run at full speed, out pacing Draco by a minute. He’s quicker than I expected, but he couldn’t catch us.
Someone opens the front door and we rush by them. My wolf doesn’t fight with me about stopping to get clothes first. Eating naked in the cafeteria is the epitome ofkill me now.
Draco lingers on the first floor. My senses are overly aware of his movements, and I hate how his masculine scent reaches for me, chasing me up the stairs and into my room.
He’s dangerous, that one,I think to my wolf.
He’s perfect,she corrects.The perfect zeta for us.
She’s much too taken with him, and I pointedly ignore her obvious admiration for the dark wolf. He’s no good for us, I can feel it in my bones.
* * *
When the phantomcomes later that night, I’m ready. Now that I’ve made contact, he’ll continue to come back until he’s finished telling me his story. Hopefully after that, I can encourage him to move on. Only a few spirits I’ve encountered refuse to move on.
Mom is one of them, but her visits have grown more infrequent and I think she may be nearing the point of crossing over for good.
A frigid wash of air accompanies him.
The bed dips, and I slowly sit, drawing the blankets around me. “Hello, again,” I say.
Indents from what I assume are knees move closer and a cool finger traces over my cheek. The touch is oddly intimate.
I’ve never had an experience like this before, but I’m still not afraid. I don’t think he’ll hurt me. Most times the dead long for human contact. You don’t realize how much you miss touch until you’re a specter watching through a fuzzy pane of glass. Or at least, that’s what I assume the other world is like.
The touch moves from my face to my shoulder and drags down my arm. It’s impossible not to shudder.
“Who are you?” I ask, hoping the phantom will give me something to work with. A memory orb at the very least.
He doesn’t though. His fingers wrap around my wrist, and he simply holds on to me for a minute before releasing me. The bed shifts, and the cool air recedes. I bite my tongue to keep from saying something likewaitbecause I’m not going to beg a spirit to stay.
Is it just me or was that weird?my wolf asks.
It was,I agree then sigh.He’s restless.
What do you mean?
Well, most spirits don’t wander about like he does. This one has come here twice, for whatever reason. He’s probably drawn to my energy, it’s like a beacon to them.
