“I’m going with him, obviously,” Alek replied.
“Alek—”
“He’s my best friend,” Alek insisted. At Jameson’s threatening growl, he added, “And I’ll be able to drag him back if we find out everything is fine with the girls.”
Jameson snarled and grumbled something about no one listening to him, but it barely registered. I was already shifting, letting my wolf take control again. A moment later, a red wolf slightly smaller than myself came to stand next to me. I nodded at him—it was all I could do to express my gratitude. I cared a lot about Alek, and knowing he was going with me meant more than I’d ever be able to articulate. He was a good friend.
But there was no time to say anything. The longer we stood here, the more likely it was that Isaac would get to the girls. We had to hurry. Without a sound, the two of us broke into a run, darting off into the woods back to Jenn.
Chapter 18 - Jenn
The quiet was more infuriating than I’d thought it would be.
I’d gotten used to hearing Klyte’s puttering around, from wandering into the living room watching TV or playing on his laptop. With only Freya and me in the house, it felt too empty, like we were just rattling around in a can. And the silence was a constant reminder that Klyte was out there, presumably about to fight Isaac.
One way or another, the Isaac situation was coming to a head. Only, I had no idea how it would end. I wanted to believe the Silver Wolves would make an easy meal of him. They were smart and competent. But I knew how ruthless Isaac was, what he was capable of. And if what Alek had said was true about how many people Isaac had brought with him to bring me back, it seemed unlikely that the Silver Wolves even stood a chance.
I kept replaying that last scene of me and Klyte, that final kiss and the fire it had ignited. This entire time, I’d tried to deny my feelings for him, telling myself it was just physical attraction and that was all. But I had just been kidding myself. The truth was that I cared more about Klyte than I’d ever thought possible. I loved our sparring matches, and I loved the way he always knew how to get under my skin, even when he used that knowledge to annoy me.
I hated to admit it, but I was madly in love with Klyte. Despite whatever my dad said or thought, I was in love with Klyte. I wanted him as my mate, to be with him forever. The more I thought about it—and I had a lot of time to think about it as I sat in the large house, waiting for news—the more I realizedthe truth. And the more I wished I’d had the guts to tell Klyte before he left. Just in case it was the last time I saw him.
My wolf had her own thoughts about it. She wanted to be out there with him, fighting beside his wolf to protect our cub. She didn’t like the idea of being far away from him when he was in danger, and a large part of me was gravitating toward the door, wanting to shift and help Klyte and the others.
God, with all the hormones raging inside me, it was hard to hold on to my own emotions or sort out how I really felt. All I knew was that I cared about Klyte. I wanted him safe. I wanted him beside me always. And I wished I’d had the sense to tell him this before he ran off to fight.
“Are you all right?” Freya asked.
I jumped slightly at her voice and then turned to where she was standing in the doorway to the living room. Most of her cuts and bruises had finally healed, and she was able to stand on her leg without it hurting anymore. She finally looked like her old self again. The sight was enough to put a small smile on my face.
“Yeah,” I said. “Or as okay as I can be. I’m just…”
“Worried about a certain shifter, even if you don’t want to admit it?” Freya asked, a small smile playing on her lips. “Because it’s perfectly reasonable if you are.”
I snorted. “That obvious?”
“I’ve always been pretty decent at reading you,” Freya said.
“I just don’t know what to do,” I admitted.
“You do.” Freya folded her arms as she leaned against the door. She arched an eyebrow. “You just don’t want to admitit because you’ve been denying your feelings about the guy for years.”
“Dad’s going to be furious,” I said.
“Well, I don’t know anything about that,” she admitted. “I can imagine that’ll be an awkward conversation when you get around to it. But you’ve got a strong support network. You’ve got me and the Silver Wolves. And Klyte’s going to make sure you’re taken care of.”
“I don’t know how he feels,” I said. “And I’m terrified that he’s only in this out of obligation. The cub.”
It was a fear I hadn’t ever said out loud. Because saying it made it seem so much more real, more likely. Klyte was a good guy, and he was the type of shifter that would stick around for the sake of his kid. It was one of the things I liked about him. But if that were the case, then what did that mean for us? I didn’t want him to be with me if it was out of a warped sense of duty. And it was hard not to imagine that being the case after our history, regardless of why he’d abandoned me the first time. Our relationship now was only ever supposed to be about the sex. I didn’t want him to be in a relationship with me because of the baby. I wanted it to be because of me. And maybe it was my own insecurities or maybe it was the pregnancy talking, but it was hard to believe he actually wanted me.
Every time I tried to tell myself otherwise, that he did actually like me, it didn’t stick. Eventually, I’d go back to worrying why he was still here. And I would never know. If I wasn’t pregnant, would we still even be having sex? Or would it have fizzled out and we would have gone our separate ways with nothing more than pleasant memories. For all I knew, the cub was what was holding us together. If I asked Klyte, he would tellme that wasn’t the case, even if it were. He’d lie to preserve the relationship.
And now that I’d said it out loud, it was harder to ignore those intrusive fears that were sneaking into my head.
Freya stared at me like I had corn for ears. But before I could ask her what the expression was for, we heard the front door bang open with such force that the wood splintered and the door slammed into the wall, rattling the photographs.
We jumped and exchanged wide-eyed glances. Freya took several hurried steps further into the living room, closer to me. Terror coated my body as my wolf bristled inside. A horribly familiar scent of charred oak reached my nose before I saw him.
“Freya,” I said, my voice tight. “We need to get to the—”