Wolf Bonded (Wolfish 1)

And so far, every time I bring the subject up again, it’s like a storm cloud passes over us. I’ve taken to avoiding the subject as much as possible.

Up until today.

“You could always shift into a wolf in front of the class, that would be a really freaking impressive visual,” I laugh, after shooting down the last—admittedly very dull—idea he had.

Rory reflexively tries to quiet me by grabbing my thigh beneath the table.

“Sorry,” he says through gritted teeth. “Yeah, that would definitely be a show they wouldn’t forget. Probably not a good idea though.”

I nod my head in agreement, but honestly the only thing I can think about is his hand resting so dangerously close to the area between my thighs that

all the blood is now quickly rushing to.

We draw a few rushed glances our way, and I quickly duck my face to hide the flush.

“Sorry,” I whisper to him, knowing I need to be less reckless with what I say when we’re out in public. Sometimes I’m really embarrassed by how oblivious I can be. It’s a trait that reminds me of how my mother sometimes behaves, and as much as I love her, I’m not fond of that particular characteristic.

“No need to apologize,” Rory says gently. He seems like a completely different guy than when I first met him. It’s just like Marlowe warned me—he was just being protective. Back then, that meant protecting his family from me. Now … now I guess he’s protecting me too. “It’s all a lot to take in, I get it. We all get it. Hell, you’ve taken it better than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Have you guys told lots of girls about your wolfish-nature?” I ask, trying to make it sound as though I don’t really care if they have. But actually, I feel a huge wave of jealousy getting ready to pummel me if he says I’m just one of a long list of girls they’ve “bonded” with.

Rory’s hand moves up my leg, intentionally, and he squeezes my leg as he wraps his fingers inside the meat of my thigh.

“Did you listen to anything we told you that night at the party?” His voice is more desperate than it is condescending. “There’s never been anyone like you, not to us. We’ve never told any other girl who we are, what we are. Only you.”

That flush of blood burns hotter through every vein in my body. My lips part, letting out a little, heady breath, only to be cut off by a sudden shadow over my shoulder.

The Civilizations teacher makes a loud clearing sound in her throat and taps her knuckle against the top of our table, her eyes not dropping to meet either of ours.

I guess he must have noticed how closely Rory was pressing up to me as we’ve been talking. It’s not like he wanted the whole class to hear us talking about him being a werewolf, although I’m sure we could have played it off as part of our project if it really came down to it.

Now, I notice Rory’s eyes turn a shade darker as he turns to look up at our teacher, and I suddenly realize that his canine nature is kicking in. He’s being protective, and even more than that—possessive. Much too possessive than the current situation warrants.

I don’t even think he can control it.

I react without thinking and throw my hand onto his lap under the table to grab his leg and get him to back down. It works. Rory immediately breaks his gaze with the teacher, who continues to walk on toward another desk of high schoolers who are likewise displaying affection he deems inappropriate for the classroom.

Rory’s gaze flickers over to mine, and it’s a second before I realize my hand is still on his lap. I start to pull it back as if I accidentally touched a hot stove without thinking, but before I can, he puts the palm of his other hand over mine and keeps it firmly in place. Rory leans in even closer to me, so close that I think he’s about to kiss me.

“Only you,” he says, the teacher’s brief interruption completely forgotten. His face lingers near mine for a minute longer and I can feel the heat of my hand pressed against him. I’m not sure which one of us is emanating the heat; probably him since he’s a wolf and all, but honestly, I am so ravenously wanting to taste his lips right now that my own heat must be mingling with his now.

What am I going to do about this? I can feel myself falling for him, and he’s not even human.

After school, Rory gives me a ride home and waits outside in the car just long enough for me to leave mom a note. I’m lucky that we have this project to work on, else it’d be hard to brush off these frequent visits up to the Gray house without arousing her suspicion.

Not that she’d really notice. Ever since that night of the party, she’s seemed preoccupied with something of her own.

Rory waits outside in the car as I scribble a quick message on the stack of Post-It notes by the fridge. Mom must still be at work because the little cabin is empty. Come to think of it, she must be pulling extra shifts again because I haven’t seen her at home very much since even before Romulus’ birthday celebration.

At first, I thought she was just trying to give me some space to settle in. Now I’ve started to wonder if she’s up to something herself.

Well, good.

I know she’s struggled with the frequent moving as much as I have. I might not be able to stay with the boys forever, but for now … for now it feels good to settle in.

“Hurry up!” Rory calls from the driveway. A mischievous grin usually reserved for the likes of Marlowe has spread across his face. “We’ve got the place to ourselves for a bit … but my parents are going to be back eventually.”

My hand fumbles with the key in the lock, my muscles unable to move normally with him looking at me like that.