Page 3 of Grace of a Wolf #1

The wolf's ears twitch at the sound of my voice. Its eyes, luminous in the darkness, remain fixed on me with an unnerving intensity.

A gust of wind whips through the trees, and violent shivers rattle my bones. Whoever threw me into the wild with just a bra and underwear is a sadistic bastard. It's cold at night. Near-freezing.

The wolf must notice my discomfort, because it lets out a soft chuff. It tilts its head the other way, as if trying to puzzle me out.

"I don't suppose you have a blanket hidden in that fur coat of yours?"

The wolf's tail thumps once against the ground, but of course it doesn't answer. Great. Now I'm making jokes at a potentially deadly creature. Shock must have set in.

I take a deep, steadying breath, trying to assess my situation. I'm alone in the woods, injured, and face-to-face with a wolf larger than any I've ever seen. And yet... it doesn't seem intent on harming me.

Maybe it's supposed to be here? But I think I'd have heard about a giant-ass wolf. People talk about Alpha's size all the time, saying he's massive. They've clearly never seen this guy.

"Are you here for the Mate Hunt?"

The wolf's ear twitches. I'm positive it's a shifter, but why won't it shift to talk to me? Why remain in wolf form if it doesn't want to attack?

Another shiver wracks my body, and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to conserve what little warmth I have left. The wolf watches this action with what almost looks like concern. Or maybe it's just wishful thinking.

"Don't suppose you'd be willing to share some of your body heat?" I joke weakly. "No? Didn't think so."

To my utter shock, the wolf rises to its feet. My breath catches, fear spiking through me once more. But instead of attacking, it takes a step closer, then another.

Panic rushes through me. Why is it coming after me now? I thought we'd already established it doesn't want to eat me. "What are you doing?" I ask, my voice just a teensy bit on this side of shrill.

The wolf doesn't answer, of course. It simply continues its approach until it's right beside me. Then, with a grace belying its massive size, it lowers itself to the ground once more. This time, however, it presses its warm, furry body against my side.

I sit there, rigid with disbelief, as the wolf's warmth seeps into me. It's like sitting next to a furry furnace.

A stinky one.

There's also a musky scent. It's not quite unpleasant, but hard to ignore.

"Thank you," I tell this strange shifter who prefers to remain anonymous.

It wraps its tail around me, like a blanket warding off the frigid wind, as it lays its head on its paws, closing its eyes.

As the minutes tick by and the wolf makes no move to harm me, I gradually relax. The warmth of its body and the steady rhythm of its breathing lull me into a state of calm I wouldn't have thought possible given the circumstances.

Every so often, a howl breaks the night, making me jerk. That'll probably go on until morning. The wolf glances at the sky each time, ears flicking around as it listens, but doesn't once respond.

As feeling returns to my limbs, mostly in painful pins-and-needles prickling, my mind drifts to thoughts of home. The pack house isn't far—maybe an hour's walk through familiar territory. But it's cold, and I have a feeling my living furnace has no interest in becoming my portable one.

"Planning on heading out before sunrise?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

The wolf exhales heavily through its nose, a sound that seems to say, "Not a chance."

I sigh, resigning myself to a night in the forest. At least I'm not alone anymore. The thought of Raphael flashes through my mind, bringing a fresh wave of pain. I push it away, focusing instead on the steady rise and fall of the wolf's chest.

Its tail remains draped over me like a living blanket, and I find myself absently stroking the thick fur. It's softer than I expected, almost silky beneath my fingertips.

"Why don't you shift? We could actually talk, you know."

The wolf's head lifts, gray eyes fixing me with an unreadable stare. Then, without warning, it pulls its tail away. The rush of cold air takes away the warmth I gathered in a mere second, and I can't suppress a bout of violent tremors.

Just as quickly as it left, the tail returns, curling around me once more. The wolf lets out a huff; it sounds suspiciously like exasperation. Message received, loud and clear.

"Okay, okay. I get it," I mutter, burrowing deeper into its warmth. "No shifting. Got it."

The realization of what this stranger is doing for me—a human they don't even know—has gratitude welling up deep inside, threatening to spill over in the form of tears. I refuse to shed tears over this situation. Over Rafe. Over… all of it.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. "You're very kind. I mean it."

The wolf doesn't acknowledge my words, simply laying its massive head back on its paws. But I swear I feel its body relax just a fraction more against mine.

As the night wears on, the adrenaline keeping me alert begins to fade. My eyelids grow heavy as I struggle to stay awake. It's a losing battle. The rhythmic sound of the wolf's breathing lulls me into a state of half-sleep, my thoughts growing fuzzy and disconnected.

I drift in and out of consciousness, never fully asleep but not quite awake either.

In this twilight state, memories and dreams blur together.

Raphael's face swims before me, but it's different somehow—colder, more distant.

Then it shifts, melting into the warm, stormy gray eyes of the wolf beside me.

A particularly loud howl jerks me back to awareness for a moment. The wolf's ears twitch, but it doesn't move otherwise. I settle back against its side, allowing myself to be pulled under once more.

I'm not sure how much time passes like this. Minutes? Hours? It feels like I've been suspended in this strange, dreamlike state forever when suddenly, everything changes.

The body beneath me goes rigid. A deep, rumbling growl vibrates through the wolf's chest and into mine, snapping me fully awake in an instant. My heart leaps into my throat as I scramble to sit up, every nerve on high alert.

"What is it?" I whisper, scanning the darkness for any sign of danger. "What's wrong?"

The wolf doesn't answer, of course. It's on its feet now, hackles raised and teeth bared at something I can't see. The growl continues, low and menacing.