The She-Wolf Series Book 2

SAMANTHA

Strange, I mused.

The security cameras were acting up, making it impossible to access the feed. Jonathan had suggested replacing them, but I didn’t see the urgency, especially since most werewolves believed I was under their king’s protection.

I moved cautiously toward the door, senses heightened. Everyone who should be here at this time was either present or would have called before showing up.

I picked up an unfamiliar scent and stopped dead in my tracks.

It can’t be.

He wouldn’t be here after such a long period of silence. My mind was playing tricks on me, but as I neared the door, I saw a large shadow through the stained glass.

My hand trembled as I turned the knob and the door creaked open.

Before me stood a wolf as big as a horse. I let out a yelp and jumped back, startled.

Ayisha was clamoring in my mind, but before I could shift, I looked into the large canine’s eyes. They reflected pain and torment.

“Rankor,” Ayisha whispered in my mind.

Ivar’s wolf. Ivar was at my doorstep.

I gasped for breath as the realization hit me, struggling to maintain my composure.

I steeled myself as I took in the sight before me.

Despite his imposing stature, he looked awful. His cream-colored fur was dirty and matted in several places.

His head hung low and he was panting heavily, unmoving.

Slowly, I extended a hand toward his muzzle and he leaned into it gently.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to savor the feel of his touch.

“Rankor,” I whispered, and he licked my palm gently.

“I need to speak with Ivar.”

He shook his head.

“Are you injured?” I asked.

Again, he shook his head.

“Why are you here?”

Instead of responding, he lumbered over to a rocking chair on the porch and lay down, resting his head on the seat.

He clearly wanted company.

I hesitated before saying, “Okay. Just give me a moment.”

I turned back into the house and grabbed my cell phone.

On a whim, I also picked up a hairbrush from the bathroom before heading back outside.

I dialed my assistant, Jessica’s, desk number.

“Good morning, Alpha Paulson,” she greeted cheerfully.

“Hey, Jess,” I replied. “Something’s come up and I won’t be in today. Can you cover for me if anyone asks?”

“Umm, sure,” she agreed. “Is everything okay? You sound a bit stressed.”

“Yes, everything’s fine,” I assured her quickly. “I just…need a day.”

“Okay, Alpha,” she said, sounding unconvinced. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thanks, Jess,” I said and ended the call.

I stood looking down at the massive wolf curled around my favorite chair.

Despite his strength, he looked exhausted. Werewolves rarely let their wolves appear so unkempt.

Since Rankor wouldn’t let me speak to Ivar, I assumed either Ivar didn’t want to shift or Rankor was refusing to relinquish control.

I wasn’t sure which was worse.

I cautiously sat in the chair next to Rankor and felt him relax as I settled in.

“You look like shit, you know,” I told him, and he sighed heavily in response.

“We should at least get you cleaned up.”

I held up the brush and Rankor gently laid his head in my lap while I began to work through his fur.

I slowly untangled knots and removed debris, noting various minor injuries.

It didn’t seem like he had been in a fight, but it was clear he had been through something to end up in this state.

I came across some matted fur behind his ears that I couldn’t untangle, so I stood to grab a pair of scissors.

Rankor seemed reluctant to let me go, but eventually sighed and allowed me to leave.

When I returned, he rested his heavy head in my lap again.

His cold nose pressed against my stomach, and I could feel his warm breath through my sweater.

My heart ached with longing at the contact.

Eventually, I finished brushing and sat back, wondering what to do next.

I longed to run my fingers through his coat, but I knew I would be setting myself up for more heartache if I let myself want this man too much.

Once he shifted back, I was sure he would leave.

I noticed an injury on his left forepaw and reached down to lift it.

Rankor let out a low growl, startling me.

“None of that,” I scolded. “I need to check it.”

After a moment, he lifted his paw for me to inspect.

It was worse than I had thought. The entire pad was raw.

What could have done this to him?

I inspected each paw further and found all four to be in rough shape, although the back two were far worse.

“Rankor, what happened?” I asked. “Why aren’t you healing?”

He let out a low whine and dropped his head into my lap once again.

“Okay. It’s okay,” I said, patting his head. “I need to get something to clean these.”

He let out another whine, but lifted his head so that I could stand.

I hurried inside to grab a bowl of warm water, some towels, and an antiseptic.

If he wasn’t healing, I worried he was at risk for infection.

There was no way to tell how long he had been like this.

I needed to get in touch with someone close to him, but I had no idea how without raising suspicion.

It wasn’t like he had a cellphone with him that I could search the contacts of either.

When I returned to his resting spot, I knelt next to him, reaching for his foot.

He surprised me with a soft lick to my cheek.

Instinct told me to resist. Instead, I cupped his furry jowls and leaned my face against his.

We stayed like that for a moment, breathing each other in.

A voice in the back of my mind warned me I was treading in dangerous waters, but my heart longed for the what if.

What if he loves me this time.

‘He does love you,’ Ayisha’s voice filled my mind.

I sighed but didn’t respond.

It was an argument we had many times previously, and I didn’t have it in me to rehash it today.

Instead, I pulled away from Rankor and got to work.

First, I cleaned the debris from each foot.

Then I soaked them before applying the antiseptic.

Rankor yelped on several occasions, but he let me work without further protest.

Once I finished, I noticed the fatigue creeping back into his eyes.

He nestled his head back into my lap as I reclaimed my seat.

I sat there, gently caressing his head, lost in my own thoughts.

After a while, I felt his breathing deepen and his body loosen up.

I watched, captivated, as he gradually transformed back into his human form. It seemed that Rankor had lost his grip on Ivar in his sleep. I anticipated him waking up once the transformation was complete.

Instead, his body sagged and he curled an arm around my legs. I tensed up, but savored his touch.

He looked even more battered than Rankor. Rankor’s fur concealed many of the minor cuts and bruises, but Ivar’s skin laid them all bare. Yet, he wasn’t healing as quickly as I’d expect from such a formidable werewolf.

His strong jaw was clenched in a grimace. I gently traced my hand over his features, stroking his hair and trailing my fingers down his neck and shoulders. His face softened slightly under my touch, and my heart twinged with pain.

What if…

I sat there, feeling his smooth skin for what seemed like hours before it dawned on me that I should probably get him inside. If anyone were to drop by unannounced, they’d find the naked king injured and sprawled out on my porch. That would be a tough one to explain.

“Ivar,” I said, lightly shaking his shoulder, but he didn’t even stir.

I tried a few more times before I gave up, deciding I’d have to get him inside while he was still unconscious. I slipped my shoulder under his arm and hoisted him up. Despite my enhanced werewolf strength, I felt my knees wobble under his solid weight.

Nevertheless, I managed to slowly drag him to the couch and cover his body with a blanket.

I gazed down at his sleeping form. Despite his hollow cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes, he still possessed the strong features of an ancient warrior. His hair was a bit longer on top, but he kept the sides closely cropped.

I imagined his icy blue eyes were as cold as ever when he was awake. The thought somewhat jolted me back to the present.

The silence of the vast living room felt oppressive as the reality of the situation set in. I needed to brace myself for when Ivar woke up, and once again, walked out of my life. The painful memory weighed heavily on my shoulders, but I forced myself to accept it.

I busied myself by cleaning up all the supplies on the porch and tidying up the house. I knew Luke would be home soon. I needed to make sure everything was as it had been, so I could avoid having to explain the events of my day.

My parents had left the previous evening for a weekend getaway, so I didn’t have to worry about them dropping by. I figured it would be easier to move on from Ivar’s visit if I could just pretend it never happened.

I texted Michael to check in and he assured me everything was taken care of for the day and the weekend. He was probably one of the few people I would eventually confide in about what was happening, but for now I dodged his questions.

Over the past year, I had heavily relied on his and Cassie’s support. After all, they understood what I was going through. They didn’t try to downplay the intensity of the incomplete mating bond between Ivar and me.

It was difficult to explain to most people my heartbreak over someone I had barely interacted with. Even supernatural beings were skeptical of fated mates.

A day off was a rarity for me, so I decided to take the time to relax. I made a mug of tea and settled into my favorite armchair with a book. I snuggled into the cushions and drew my knees up to my chest protectively.

Eventually, the giant of a man on my couch would wake up—I hoped—and then I would have to face reality. For now, I chose to enjoy the sound of his steady breathing as I leafed through a romance novel from the pack house library.

It was late in the morning when I heard movement from the couch next to me. I looked up to see Ivar slowly open his eyes and stare at the ceiling. I watched silently as he took in his surroundings. His gaze eventually landed on me. Our eyes met and his expression became unreadable.

“Hi,” I whispered.

He sighed, once again staring at the ceiling.

“Hi,” he muttered.

Silence enveloped us, the only sounds were our breathing and hearts beating.

“What happened?” I finally broke the silence.

His jaw tightened, and I saw the muscles in his shoulders tense up.

I thought at first he wouldn’t answer, but eventually he said, “I lost control. Rankor wouldn’t give it back. He ran here.”

I was taken aback.

“He ran here? From where?” I asked.

He didn’t answer, but closed his eyes, looking less than pleased.

“From Canada?” I probed further, and he nodded slightly.

“How long did that take?”

“A few days,” he muttered.

I was stunned.

Ivar had lost control over his wolf for several days. Quick outbursts were common for some wolves, but losing control for an extended period was extremely rare. Especially for a werewolf as powerful as Ivar.

Usually, once the wolf calmed down, the human side was able to regain control. Rankor must have been seriously upset with Ivar, but I didn’t understand why he had brought them here.

“How?” I asked.

“What do you care?” he retorted, his contempt clear.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You seem to be doing just fine,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?” I demanded.

“Has the bond not affected you at all?” he spat. “How are you just moving on with life?”

“I am not the one who left,” I said quietly.

“I asked you to come with me,” he accused.

“I told you why I couldn’t,” I countered.

He shook his head in disgust.

“Well, how did you do it?” he asked. I stared back at him, confused. “Clearly you blocked the bond somehow.”

My chest ached from the venom in his words. He looked at me with such blatant hatred that my hopes of a different outcome all but evaporated.

How could he not see how this was affecting me? How could he not see the pain this was causing me?

“How could you think that?” I whispered.

He was quiet for a moment before answering.

“I live every day, not able to think of anything but you. Not able to get your voice out of my head, the feel of your skin off of my hands, the taste of your kiss out of my mouth. The pain of your absence is unbearable, Samantha. And here you sit, calm as can be. Your life is moving on as if I don’t even exist, so I want to know how you did it.”

Under different circumstances, his words might have been endearing, even romantic. However, he looked at me like I was an annoyance. He didn’t want to feel these things for me.

“Ivar,” I began, my voice steady. “I didn’t shut off our connection. I endure the pain of your departure every single day.”

He scrutinized my expression for a while. I figured he was trying to decide if I was being honest.

After a while, he finally asked, “So how do you cope with it? How did you manage to move forward?”

“I don’t think I had much of an option,” I replied with a shrug. “You left, and I have obligations.”

“But I have obligations too,” he countered. “That’s not a sufficient reason.”

It was then that I finally understood his bewilderment.

“I suppose I didn’t allow myself any other option,” I clarified. “My husband passed away six years ago. He was my everything, and a part of me died with him that day.

“After he was gone, I was just a shadow of the woman I used to be. It was only when I saw the impact my sorrow was having on my son that I realized I needed to find a way to keep living. I made a promise to never let Luke experience that kind of pain again.

“So, no matter how much your rejection hurts, I can’t afford to drown in self-pity. I have to keep moving for the sake of my family and my pack. They have to be my priority.”

I rarely spoke about the time following Travis’s death. If it hadn’t been for my parents, Luke would have been left alone to deal with the loss of his father.

When I saw that he felt like he was losing his mother too, I pulled myself back from the brink and made sure he knew he could always count on me.

He was, and still is, my rock.