Page 2

The moment I stepped through the barrier, I caught her scent.

I thought I had to be imagining it at first, an illusion called up by her memory. Of course, I’d think of her today. How could I not?

Clara.

As the sweet, sugary scent drifts across my face, my mouth starts to water. It’s like honey or rich, golden syrup drizzled over a warm cinnamon cake. It overwhelms me, and my whole body tingles as I let the intense smell waft across my tongue.

My wolf is panting right now.

Instead of turning towards the park as I come through the barrier, I look out over the lake and try to regain control. There’s no point in trying to convince myself the scent isn’t real. It’s all around me now, blowing through the air, caught by the wind, and sweeping across my face.

Just like Grandma’s kitchen on a cold winter night. The warmth of the fire, the delicious scent rising from the oven and filling the room. Safety, comfort, and utter indulgence.

I take a breath and hold it, gathering my courage to turn around and face her. Ever since I agreed to this meeting, I’ve been thinking of Clara, knowing I could never commit to anyone else. This whole thing was a sham. A joke.

If this is real, I’ll have to apologize to Winnie.

My meddling sister, always interfering in my life and trying to push my buttons. She got me good with this one, but this time her prank turned out to be a gift.

First time for everything.

Turn around, you coward!

As I look over my shoulder, I can hear Clara’s light steps on the grass behind me. Her scent is as thick and sweet as the sugar and spice it reminds me of, and my heart starts to pound so hard, I can feel it in my temples.

She stops behind me, freezing as soon as she sees my face. I turn around fully and face her, hearing her heartbeat suddenly speed up, pounding twice as hard in her chest.

For a moment, we just stare at each other. I stretch out all my wolf senses, trying desperately to find some clue of how she’s feeling. All I’m getting is her raging heartbeat and light, shallow breathing. The added warmth to her body makes her scent even stronger.

All of this could mean excitement from her… or fear.

Please don’t fear me.

My fingers twitch as the thought streaks through me. I want to grab her, press her to my chest, and never let anything hurt her ever again.

But I’m the one who hurt her.

I’m sorry!

“Galen?” she says, tilting her head. Her voice is smooth and even, but her heart is still hammering in her chest. I’m impressed that she can look so calm when her insides are in such turmoil.

“Clara…” I try to say, but I can’t raise my voice above a soft, reverent whisper. A slight frown crosses her pretty features, and I’m just as enchanted by it as I have always been by her smile.

What I wouldn’t give to see that smile again. I swear, my love, I will make you smile again.

Just let me try.

Clara folds her arms tightly across her chest and looks up at me, sticking her chin out a little in defiance. Her pale gold eyes narrow, and the edges of her mouth turn down. When her bottom lip trembles, I have to fight the urge to reach out and stroke it with my thumb.

“This must be a mistake,” she announces. “We need to discuss this with Iris. Immediately.”

Even though her voice is high-pitched and tight, she doesn’t move. I struggle to respond, caught between finding the right words and feasting my eyes upon her, ravishing every inch of her with my gaze like a starving man.

I have been starving every single second since she left.

“Galen, are you alright?” she asks, her voice hard. I can hear her heart still hammering, and her breath almost wheezing through her tight chest, but I’m beginning to think it’s from anger more than excitement.

She doesn’t want to see me… and why should she?

“It’s been a long time, Clara,” I say.

Her eyes widen, and I’m lost in pools of shimmering gold. Her eyes are the color of honey, lit from within so they glimmer like gems when any strong emotion takes her.

With that thought, I’m caught in a memory of her in my arms, gasping with pleasure as her eyes stared deeply into mine. She’s in my hands, writhing, screaming out in joy.

Screaming my name.

“Galen,” she snaps. “We need to talk about this.”

Her tone and the still-hard look on her face drag me back to reality. It’s painful to return from the memory, and to see the pain in her eyes.

I deserve this. I deserve all of this.

“Yes,” I answer, still not really knowing what to say. “We should.”

Clara’s eyes narrow again, and she shivers, hugging her arms a bit tighter against her chest. She’s wearing a long gray coat that reaches down to her thighs, so all I can see of her outfit is a hint of dark green at her collar, black tights on her shapely legs, and black, knee-high boots.

“Let’s go and sit down,” she suggests. “Iris can sort this out.”

“Wait,” I reply, reaching for her. “Just wait a second.”

She takes a step back, glaring at my hand as she jams her own into her pockets. “Don’t touch me, Galen,” she snaps.

“Okay,” I mutter, my throat tight. “I was just—”

“I know,” she cuts me off. “I just want to get that boundary straight.”

Her voice falters, just slightly. At the same time, her scent thickens a little, and her heart slows to a dull throb.

I close my eyes as I sense the heat gathering in her. Her chest, hands, and inner thighs are starting to glow like a well-lit forge.

Oh, God. She’s aroused. She’s still hot for me—

“Come on!” she snaps again, her face flushing as if she knows what I’m sensing. “We have to talk to Iris.”

Clara takes swift, decisive steps across the path towards the picnic tables, and I have no choice but to follow. I can’t stop looking at her long, shapely legs as she strides ahead of me. I’m struck by the casual glamour of the high boots.

Flat heels. Practical as ever. She could walk anywhere in them… but they are also sexy as hell.

Clara always had a knack for looking understated but stunning at the same time. No matter what she wore, it looked like the perfect combination of comfort, practicality, and barely restrained sex appeal to me.

I might be biased.

When we get back to the tables, Clara stops and looks around, frowning with confusion.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Iris was just here. Now she’s gone. That’s my coffee, right there on the table. I thought she was going to wait for us.”

I shrug. “Maybe she is just really busy.”

“But we both have to sign the contract.”

“I did it already,” I reply, now just as confused. “I used a digital signature.”

Clara stares at me. “But she told me… oh, never mind. Sit down so we can figure this out.”

“Okay,” I answer, starting to feel like my voice might be under my control again. I can’t stop staring at her, like I can’t believe she’s real. I lived so many years thinking I would never see her again.

I have never stopped loving her… and I can’t believe I did what I did.

If I could, my love, I’d take it all back.

When I first started dating her, I knew that the rest of the pack considered her to be strange, but I had no idea how bad it actually was. On our first date, she asked if it was okay for us to be together, and I answered yes, of course it was… not understanding what she really meant.

I heard the others whisper and make jokes about her. They called her a freak born without a shifter gene.

Even with the way my family talked about her with an edge of disdain. I still didn’t realize how bad it was.

We spent a couple of wonderful months together. To this day, I remember it as the happiest time of my life.

As I look into her pretty face, I can’t believe what I did to her. In the last seven years, though, I’ve grown up. And I know I’ll never let anyone else come between me and someone I love.

I flinch a little as I remember my family yelling at me, my parents and the pack elders reminding me that I’m going to be the alpha and can’t waste time on a freak who can’t even shift.

My hands clench slowly into fists as I look across the table at the only woman I’ve ever loved. I believed my family—I went against my own instincts, my own judgment—and now I know I’ll never do it again.

I have a second chance now, and by God, I’m going to take it.

“Look, there isn’t much to talk about here,” Clara says, her voice flat. “Obviously, we aren’t doing this.”

“I’ve committed and signed the contract. I thought it was legally binding, now that we’ve both signed it?” I say, my voice surprisingly steady.

“Yes, Iris said that to me as well,” Clara says, frowning. “But she also assured me the match would be favorable. She’s obviously made a huge mistake.”

“I don’t think it’s a mistake,” I counter, a hard edge creeping into my voice.

Clara’s beautiful eyes widen, absorbing the sunlight and shimmering with depths of gold. I’m enchanted when I look at her. There’s really no other word for it.

A strong breeze whips up behind me. I hear it caress the waters of the lake and rush across the grass as it rattles the trees and stirs around us. Clara’s long, dark brown hair gets caught in it, tossing around her pretty face until she pushes it back behind her ears.

Magic. She is pure magic.

“Galen, if you wanted to be with me, you would have made it clear long before now,” she says tartly.

I frown. “Excuse me?”

“You broke up with me, remember?”

I sigh. “Well, yes, but—”

“But what?” she asks, challenging me with her stare. “By all means, explain why you dumped me when I thought everything was going great.”

I can sense the frustration and bitterness in her. I know underneath it all is a deep wound—one that I made. It hasn’t healed, either. It’s been underneath her armor, bleeding this whole time.

“I had no choice,” I say, meeting her eyes. “I need you to understand that.”

“All I understand is that you rejected me,” she whispers. Her voice is so soft, there’s no anger in it now. Only pain.

No!

“Clara, you know that I was always meant to be alpha—”

“Yes. What does that have to do with it?” The challenge is back in her tone.

“The elders and my family believed that a match with you would weaken all of us. I don’t believe that, and I never did, but I was young and stupid then—”

“What do you mean?” she asks, her eyes wide with shock. “What do you mean, weaken all of us?”

I stare at her for a moment, hoping she’ll get it on her own so I don’t have to say it out loud. The confusion on her face only grows, and I sigh with resignation, flicking my eyes away before meeting her gaze again.

“You can’t shift,” I say clearly.

She flinches, then presses her lips together. I can see her fighting tears.

No, my love, no. I’ll never let anything hurt you ever again!

“Please don’t cry,” I say, reaching across the table. She stares at my hand as if it’s a trap set with a treat she can’t resist. She’s obviously drawn to me, but fighting it.

When she reaches back and I take her hand, the relief that floods through me is so powerful, I almost collapse. All she does is put her hand on the table, but that gesture speaks volumes to me.

She wants my comfort. She still craves my touch.

I cover her hand with mine, and the magic is back as if it never left. Like sunlight in my veins, pleasure races through me, warm and thrilling, echoing through my soul.

“Clara,” I whisper, squeezing her hand gently.

She keeps looking at me, her eyes wide and glittering with tears she can’t shed. Her flippant manner when she first saw me was all a shield—I see that now. Underneath it all, she’s still in love with me. She’s still that young, carefree girl I knew so many years ago.

The girl I broke.

“We can’t do this,” she says, shaking her head, but not taking her hand from mine. “You just admitted it. The pack will never allow it.”

“I’m the alpha now,” I reply with a low growl. “They do whatever I tell them to do.”

“But I can’t shift,” she says, her eyes darting back and forth as if she’s being hunted. “The alpha’s mate has to be perfect.”

“You are perfect!”

A smile dances briefly across her lips before she shakes her head a little. “Galen, I can’t. I shouldn’t have come here at all. I really didn’t think this through.”

“Neither did I,” I admit. “Winnie set it up. She kind of dared me.”

Clara’s smile grows a little at the mention of my sister. “She’s still mischievous, then?”

“She sure is,” I reply. “She’ll be very pleased to find out I was matched with you.”

“She doesn’t care that I can’t shift?”

“Winnie has always been a rebel, you know that,” I answer, shrugging.

For a moment, it seems as if Clara relaxes completely. It’s almost as if I can see the good memories flooding through her, leaving a wide, warm smile on her face.

“You can see everyone again,” I say. “Some people have missed you, and they’ll be glad to see you.”

She jumps, yanking her hand back as her eyes widen again. “Some people?” she repeats. “And what about the rest? How much crap will I have to take from the pack?”

“That came out the wrong way,” I mutter, frustrated with myself and shaking my head. “I’m sorry. But the fact is, we were meant to be together, and I think this proves it. Just give me a chance, Clara. Just one more. That’s all I ask of you.”

She wraps her arms around herself again, staring at me evenly. I can’t read her expression, and anxiety rises in me as I wait for her reply.

She is desperate, that’s obvious. She needs help. I can’t just let her go.

“I’ll talk to you,” she finally says. “But I haven’t made up my mind. How do you feel about getting something to eat, and I’ll listen to what you have to say.”

“No problem,” I answer, standing up. “I’ll head over and grab some coffee and snacks right now. Did you have something specific in mind?”

“No,” she replies, shaking her head. “Just some coffee and donuts for now. I’ll wait here.”

“Great,” I say, relieved. “I won’t be long. Thank you, Clara.”

She gives me a steady, blank look. “Don’t thank me.”

“I really mean it, though. Thank you for coming today and sticking around this long. I just want to talk.”

“Okay,” she says, nodding. “I understand.”

I hurry over to the small cluster of shops, hoping that Clara’s favorites haven’t changed. I’m on my way back with a huge bag of donuts and two steaming hot cups of coffee when I realize the picnic table is empty.

Maybe she just took a walk or went to the bathroom.

But I know in my heart it’s a vain hope. When I turn my nose to the wind, her scent is less than a memory hanging in the air.

She’s gone.