Page 56 of Someone Else's Wolf

Later, when I woke up, it was to a soft, damp nose nudging me. I squinted at a pretty wolf standing beside the bed, staring at me with apologetic, hypnotic eyes. He lowered his head a bit.

Okay, I was still asleep, apparently, because he looked exactly like the wolf in my dream. I made a soft, shocked sound. He licked his muzzle nervously, lowering his head farther, looking as if he wanted to apologize.

"You're beautiful." I reached out tentatively and touched one of his ears. Soft as a cloud. "Gorgeous." I touched the other.

He wagged his tail low and tight and leaned into my touch as I stroked the soft fur on and around his head. His tongue slipped out and lightly brushed my wrist and palm.

"Oh, Peter, you really are the prettiest wolf I've ever seen." A big one, too. Not that I'd seen many wolves, but it seemed a pretty fair judgment considering that lovely thick fur, the black-tipped ears, and the dark "eyeliner" look around his eyes. He was soft as a puppy, and he had big, beautiful eyes. He made a soft sound in his throat and looked at me with eyes of love. Pure love.

Then he turned and dashed away from me, out into the kitchen, making a little whimpering sound in his throat.

Uh-oh.

I pulled myself fully awake, threw on a pair of trousers, and followed him out. Had I done something wrong, made him remember something he'd rather not? I approached cautiously. He was in human form again, was stirring a pot and cooking with nervous vigor. He looked awfully damned close to tears.

"Peter, what's wrong? Did I say something?"

"No, no. You're wonderful. It's perfect." He wouldn't look at me, though.

"Do you need some space? I can give you space."

My feet felt cold against the floor, and more of sleep's numbness retreated, leaving me disoriented. The world could sometimes have too many sharp edges and hidden hazards. I would never hurt him on purpose.

"No, I don't ever want space from you, Shane." His voice held enough warmth to keep me going through an entire winter. The look he gave me was one of awed, tearful wonder. "I didn't know that it would be so..." He broke off. "I mean, you weren't repulsed by me at all."

I blinked. "No, of course not. Peter, you're a lovely wolf." I wondered if I should've found a different word, if he'd be offended by "lovely." But he was too breathtakingly gorgeous to settle for something more blandly masculine, like "handsome" or "attractive." I needed better words; he took my breath away.

He shook his head, drawing in a huge breath. "I never had that. I mean, I didn't expect it anymore. You're just — you're right. In the way that..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head again.

I wasn't sure it was appropriate, but I had to say something. I was bursting to tell him, a revelation that needed to be shared.

I put a hand on his arm. "Peter, do you know something? After we talked that day in your back yard, I tried to stay away, stay out of it. I thought I had no place and no say. And then, one night, I dreamed I saw a wolf exactly the way you looked today. Your fur was so soft..."

I cleared my throat. It felt almost too personal to share this, so full of wonder and awe. But this was Peter, and it was about him. "You said you needed my help to get free of him. Of course, in the end you didn't. You did that on your own, but isn't that something? I mean, you looked exactly like you did in my dream. I swear I've never seen your wolf form before, not even a picture, but—"

I was startled when he picked me up suddenly and hugged me tightly, laughing. "Shane, Shane," he said, breathless and laugh-crying a little as he rubbed his face against my chest. "Shane, you're — you're more my mate than he ever was. You even dreamed... I dreamed too, you know. I dreamed you—"

He had to stop then, couldn't continue. He set me down and wiped at his eyes. I handed him a paper towel to dry them, but he just laughed and crushed me to his chest again. "Shane, you're so precious to me."

"You are to me, too. What did I do in the dream?" I was wildly curious.

"You said you'd love me forever. Even if I never saw you again. That you wouldn't quit loving me. Then I woke up, and I was next to him again, and I couldn't stand it. That's when I started thinking about leaving him for real, no matter what it cost. I knew it wasn't right to stay with someone who would never love me, when I'd had a taste of what it could really be like."

He was trembling with emotion, and I felt shaky myself. I put a hand on my eyes, trying not to start crying as hard as it felt like I would. We were both a bit of a wreck at this point.

"Peter, it was the truth. What you dreamed. I kept on loving you, even with everything. I felt like a real idiot about it, but I couldn't change it. And I'm glad I couldn't. I've never loved anyone the way—" I coughed and cleared my throat, unable to get out the rest of the words. It was really an emotional day. "Sorry. Um. The way I—"

"Shane." He drew himself up and looked me in the eye. "Me too. It not just you, Shane. I feel the same way. I love you, and I'm not sorry. I wish I hadn't been so eager for a mate earlier — I wish I'd waited for you. But I have you now, and I'm never walking away. You're it for me, Shane. You're the real one. You're real, and I love you so very much."

epilogue

"What do you think? Will he like them?" I jittered in place and addressed Kirk nervously.

He gave me a look of disgust out of the corner of his eye and didn't deign to answer.

We were picking Peter up at the airport. He'd travelled to see his old pack and formally dissolve his mate bond with Jeffrey. I'd offered to go as his backup, but he'd said that wouldn't be appropriate.

"It would violate decorum, and besides, I don't want to subject you to them." He'd looked disgusted at the thought.