There’s a groan, and Deke rises, back in man form.
“Fuck,” he says, casting a horrified glance around the room. “Sadie.”
I’m pressed back against the headboard so hard, my spine’s fused with it. I’m trembling so hard my muscles hurt. His feral growls still echo in my ears.
“Did I hurt you?”
He takes a step towards me, and I flinch. He sees and flinches himself.
“It’s okay,” I say quickly.
“No. No, it’s not. I could’ve killed you,” he says. “Fuck. Fuck!” the last time comes out a roar. I can’t help my whimper.
He looks down at the wreckage strewn over the floor then back at me. “I’m sorry, Sadie.” His voice cracks. “Now you see. I can’t do this,” he mutters. “I’m not safe.”
I can’t bring myself to leave the bed, but I can keep my voice steady. “Deke, look at me.”
He does, and a small inhuman whine escapes him, sounding like a dog who’s been kicked. Or a wolf.
I lower my hands from my heart and my mouth. I’m safe. I was just scared. My heartbeat is already slowing.
“Deke. No. Deke...it’s okay—”
He turns and leaves. I scramble off my bed, grabbing a blanket to toss around my shoulders. “Wait!”
My front door slams open. I run out of my bedroom, but I’m too late.
“Deke,” I cry. The neighbor's dog next door is going crazy, but there’s no sign of Deke.
His car is still in front of my place, parked at the curb. No Deke. I run down my front path. “Deke!”
A giant black wolf runs down my street, leaping my neighbor’s decorative fence and skidding crazily over the lawn. The last I see of its dark shape is the fanned tail and pointed ears heading into the hills.
Deke
I could’ve fucking killed her. My paws beat over the ground in a constant rhythm. I run until they’re bloody, leaving wet tracks on the red earth until my shifter healing kicks in. The stinging stops for a little while, but another mile, and the rocks on the trail slice through my paws, and I bleed again.
This is the end. This is what I deserve—to run to the ends of the earth. Would that the world were flat, so I could leap over the edge. I will run until I die or until I can think of a better punishment.
Dawn breaks, and I pause in my quest. I’m on a mountain peak, surrounded by red boulders. The air is thin enough to make me lightheaded. I throw back my head, savoring the haziness in my mind. A sort of drunkenness, separating me from the pain. When clarity comes, I remember: I can never go back to Sadie.
My wolf howls and howls and howls until there’s no other sound in the world.
Sadie
Dawn comes and sheds a thin, sad light on the wreckage of my bedroom. I clean it up the best I can, just for something to do. I’m a kindergarten teacher, I’m used to cleaning up messes. At least this one doesn’t involve peanut butter or scissors in the hands of a six year old.
But I’ll never forget the savage rage, the growl in the darkness.
He’s a werewolf. This was never going to work.
The closet doors aren’t salvageable, so they go outside into the trash. My shredded cardigans, same. All that’s left of the damn jackalope is mostly bits of black fabric and cotton fluff. I vacuum and then get dressed to go to school. Not ideal, but I have no idea what else to do. I don’t know where to look for Deke. The desert? The pound? The other option is to sit in my apartment and cry.
Not an option. But I do get a little sniffly when I walk outside. Deke’s Mercedes is still parked at my curb. Inside my house are his keys and his phone, all his stuff. If he comes back for it, he won’t be able to get it unless I’m here.
He will come back for it, right? I hope so, but a part of me is terrified he won’t. A part of me fears he’s gone for good.
Deke
I run until night falls, and then I run some more.
I’m loping down the side of a mountain when a giant black wolf with amber orange markings stalks across my path. My alpha.
I skid on my aching paws. Rafe lowers his head, sniffing me. I stay still on stiff limbs. I didn’t eat today. My wolf made me drink, but I’m weak. My body trembles.
A second and third wolf rise from the brush and flank me. I’m surrounded. If I want to continue my quest, I’ll have to fight it out, and in my weakened state, I’ll lose.
I don’t want to fight. I lower my head. Lances presses forward and licks at my side, cleaning away blood from a wound I got from tearing against a rock. On my right side, Channing presses his shoulder against mine, bracing me.