Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

WE LAY in his bed on our sides toward each other, knees knocking together, faces inches apart. The room was dark. His eyes were bright and his breath on my face was warm. I didn’t know what time it was, but knew it had to be late. And I also knew that if I fell asleep, Joe would be gone by the time I woke.

I had to fight it.

For as long as I could.

Because I couldn’t bear the thought of waking alone.

He watched me, and I felt the pulse of something between us, whatever fledgling bond that was there. Not the bond of an Alpha to his pack. But the bond between mates. I wanted to hold on to that thread as long as I possibly could, because the thought of it being gone when I woke terrified me.

He reached up and traced his fingers over my eyebrows. My cheeks. My nose. My lips. I pressed a gentle kiss against his fingertips. He sighed and his eyes fluttered shut.

“This sucks.”

“Yeah,” I said. Because it did.

He opened his eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”

“I know.”

“You have to help her, Ox.”

I knew who he meant. “I will.”

His breath hitched in his chest. “You have to. She’s my mom.”

“I know.”

He gripped my hand and held it between us. There were hints of red in his eyes, notes that had never been there before.

He said, “I meant it. What I said.”

“When?” I asked, trying to take him all in, trying to catalog every single detail of him that I could. For those moments I knew would come. When I couldn’t sleep because he was gone.

“When I said I loved you.”

My traitorous heart stumbled in my chest. “Yeah. I know, Joe.”

“Because I do.”

“Yeah.”

“I just… needed you to know that. Before.”

“Okay, Joe. Hey, I love you too. You know I do. I have for a long time.”

“Yeah, Ox. I know.” He let out a shaky breath. “This isn’t fair. We should have had more time.”

I said, “It’s okay,” even though it wasn’t. Part of me wanted to point out that this was his choice. His doing. But I didn’t have the strength to fight with him anymore. Not now. Not like this. “We’re here now.”

“You can’t forget me,” he said fiercely, squeezing my hand until my bones ached. “No matter what happens. You can’t ever forget me.”

“Yeah, Joe. I know. I couldn’t even if I tried. I don’t want to try. You’ll see. You do what you have to do, then you’ll come back and everything will be right as rain. It’ll be over before you know it. Weeks, even. Days. I promise. Okay?”

“And then we’ll be mates, right?”

“Sure, Joe.”

“Forever.”