Page 18 of A Wolf’s Wound

Hannah

Why the hell is Ryder following me?

Part of me wants to turn around and yell at him right now, in the middle of the sidewalk. I usually don’t like making a scene, but right now I don’t even care. I explicitly told him to leave me alone. But apparently he heard, “Ryder, stalk me, pretty please!”

Seriously, what is with this guy? I pause in front of a store and gaze in the window. But I’m not really looking at the jewelry on display. Instead, I’m keeping an eye on Ryder. He’s stopped walking too. I know when I move again, he’ll do the same.

The only reason I’m not yelling at him is because I’m so mad I’m afraid I’ll burst into tears. That happens sometimes when I’m really upset, and I don’t want him to think I’m crying over him. That would be too fucking humiliating.

No, I’m just going to go home. I can rant and yell in front of Shadow and April, neither of whom will judge me if I cry. That thought cheers me up immensely, so I begin walking again.

I can still feel Ryder’s eyes on me, but I don’t care. Let him follow me. Let him ignore me. I’ll just ignore him even more. I don’t know why he’s following me, but I really don’t care.

No, that’s a lie. I know why he’s following me. He wants to make another big speech about how he wants me, how I need to be in his life, and on and on. Ugh. Look, I don’t mean to sound conceited. I don’t actually have guys dropping those kinds of lines on me all the time. Much less wolves.

But just because I don’t have a ton of experience in the dating department— you try dating guys when you’re basically part of the Blackwood pack, whether you asked to be or not—that doesn’t mean that I’m so desperate as to fall for Ryder.

No matter how well he kisses. Dammit! Why’d I have to think about that?

Okay, fine. He’s a good kisser. Actually, an incredible kisser.

But still. No amount of kissing technique and skill can make up for ignoring a woman.

And following her home when she doesn’t want to see you.

That’s just wrong.

And of all people, Ryder should know better. What? Does he want me to think Stonehaven is just crawling with creepy men? If so, well-played, dude. Now I do.

Maybe that’s not entirely fair. Ryder doesn’t give me the same vibe that the councilman did in our mercifully brief encounter. I know Ryder would never demand to be let into my apartment, much less attack me.

Then why is he following me? Especially since he’s one of the few people in this city who knows what happened with the councilman. Before this walk home, I would have sworn that Ryder was sensitive and thoughtful enough to not creep out a girl.

Since I’ve moved to town, one man has forced his way into my apartment to tell me that I made a mistake coming here. Another man has decided I’m wrapped up in his destiny or whatever and won’t let it drop.

Maybe my parents were right about Stonehaven being the wrong city for me. Maybe if I’d stayed home, none of this would be happening.

Well, there’s no “maybe” about it. Nothing like this ever happened to me before.

Home was safe. And boring. And it was impossible for me to live an independent life. Stonehaven might be weird and a little creepy, but at least things are happening here. At least I feel like I’m living.

Shit, I must have been feeling more claustrophobic at home than I realized if I’m rating my introduction to Stonehaven as better than living with my parents.

Because that scene with the councilman was incredibly scary.

If Ryder hadn’t come in when he did… I don’t want to think about what might have happened.

I just wish Ryder would tell me why he came in when he did! Sometimes talking to him feels like running around a track. You don’t get anywhere but you’re as exhausted and worn out at the end as if you’d run a marathon.

That’s what happens when most of the responses Ryder gives me are of the “I don’t know” and “I just felt” variety. It’s like trying to read a book with one eye covered. I know he’s giving me part of the story but the rest is hidden.

Maybe even from him too. I think about how Ryder’s face fell during our conversation earlier. He really did seem shocked that I didn’t want him around. I begin to feel the faintest stirring of sympathy for him.

After all, I know what it feels like to want something so badly but not know why. To be honest, that’s how I felt about moving to Stonehaven. I could have gone a lot of places after I finished my training. But something in me was pushing me to come here.

And trying to explain that to Mason? Oh, boy. I probably didn’t make a lot more sense to him than Ryder made to me. It was just a feeling I had, that this was where my future was. That in this city I’ll become the woman I was always meant to be.

My steps slow as I realize how closely my situation seems to parallel Ryder’s. We both wanted something so badly it was almost indescribable. And we’re both stubborn enough to think that if we keep pushing, we can make it happen.

Except that what Ryder wants is me. And I don’t want to get involved with a wolf. I know what that means; I saw it with my own eyes. My mom and Mason are happy, sure. And I love Mason and all of our pack. Even if they can be overbearing sometimes.

But being part of a pack is just that—being part of something bigger than you. I’m not ready for that. I don’t know if I ever will be. Being able to carve out my own identity, not as anyone’s daughter or pack member, has been exhilarating.

I know my mother wants that for me too. She was my biggest cheerleader when it came to my desire to get away from our family and figure out my own life. I can just imagine the look on her face if I told her I was involved not just with a wolf but a wolf from the Stone pack.

What’s the best word to describe the combination of worried, pissed off, and angry? Is there one in English? Maybe I’ll have to make one up. Maybe Shadow can teach me one in his language. But that’s what my mother would look like, all at once.

I turn onto my block and see my apartment building at the end of the street. I’ve been so in my own head that I didn’t realize how close to home I am.

A hand grabs my shoulder, and I yelp. It’s Ryder. I just know it. I swing around, mouth already open, ready to let loose on him.

But Ryder’s handsome face isn’t looking back at me. It’s not his dark eyes staring at me or his unfortunately kissable lips parting to speak to me.

This creature has a human face…mostly. Human eyes, ears, and cheeks. But my attention is focused on the huge, drooling wolf muzzle that’s inches from my mouth. Its dank breath makes my skin crawl. Its huge fangs are as white as a skeleton and sharper than any knife I’ve ever seen.

I should run. I should punch or kick or do something. But even as those thoughts race through my mind, I can’t move.

All I can do is scream.