Page 16 of Song Bird Hearts (Green River Hearts #4)

Valerie

T he tension in the cabin is so thick, it’s a wonder no one chokes on it.

Knox won’t look at me. He just stands by the door with his arms crossed, like if he keeps glaring at Wolf long enough, the man will dissolve or spontaneously combust. I’m not sure which one he’d enjoy more.

Gilden? He’s kicked back with one loafer on the coffee table, watching the two of them like he’s got front row rickets to the best damn drama he’s seen in weeks.

I can’t take it.

I slip outside, leaving the door open behind me just enough to hear if any shouting turns to gunfire.

The air’s colder out here, the high mountain wind slipping down my collar, sharp with pine and the sounds of the forest. I wrap my arms around myself and let my lungs stretch for the first time in hours.

What the hell have I done?

Letting Wolf in, it felt like instinct and a whole lot like survival. But it doesn’t make sense. Not really.

He found me when no one else could, knew where I’d be because he bugged me.

God, how long as he been stalking me and why doesn’t it bother me more that he has been?

When I look at him, I feel seen in a way I can’t explain, like he already knows the shape of all my shadows.

But I shouldn’t feel safer around him. I should feel scared.

Stalkers aren’t the best kinds of people to hole up with.

I’m still trying to make sense of it all when I hear the creak of the porch floorboards behind me. He doesn’t announce himself. He doesn’t need to.

Wolf moves like fog rolling along the pasture, quiet and slow. He doesn’t come too close, just comes out far enough to stand beside me with plenty of air between us, hands in his pant pockets, gaze fixed on the tree line like he’s trying to memorize it.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I don’t answer right away, chewing on my lip until I find the words I feel like I can say. “You dropped a bomb in there,” I say instead of the words caught in my throat. “They’re probably drawing straws for who gets to kill you first.”

He exhales through his nose, something like amusement. “If it happens, I’ll try not to bleed all over the floor.”

I glance at him. “Why are you like this?”

He tilts his head, unreadable as he looks at me. “Like what?”

“So calm. So sure. You show up out of nowhere, crash into my life like a ghost with a plan, and you act like none of this is strange. Hell, you tracked me here, with a tracker you slipped in my coat pocket! That’s not normal!”

He looks at me now, really looks at me. Wolf is a handsome man, almost too handsome. He’s the kind of man that must have no lack of attention from women. It doesn’t make sense that he’s standing here in front of me, declaring loyalty like I’ve earned that right.

“It’s not strange to me,” he finally says.

The way he says it—low, certain—makes something flutter hard in my chest.

His eyes glitter. “I’ve been watching you for a long time.”

“We’ll talk about how long here in a minute. But, you bugged me,” I remind him, my whisper sharp. “That’s a violation, not protection like you seem to think it is.”

“It’s both,” he says. There’s no apology in his voice, just honesty. “I knew you’d need me.” His eyes trace down my body, making me shiver from his gaze rather than from the cold. “I waited.”

“Waited for what?” I ask, my voice a little too breathy.

“For the moment you’d need me,” he replies, repeating his words.

He turns to me now, slow and deliberate as he is all his movements, and the look in his eyes. . . God. It’s not desperation. It’s not even hunger. It’s devotion, obsession in a way that doesn’t flinch. I don’t understand it, and I don’t know if I’m gonna get any answers.

“I’m not here to chase you, little star,” he says. “I’m here because I already chose you.”

My breath catches. “You don’t even know me.”

He steps closer. Not too close, but just enough for me to feel his presence hum against my skin like static.

“That’s the thing,” he says, his eyes wicked. “I do.”

His eyes flick to my mouth, just for a second. It’s not a move, not a lean-in, but the heat of it rolls through me all the same.

“I know how you look when you think no one’s watching.

I know your voice when you’re about to lie.

You lie so often in interviews when they ask how you feel about your newfound fame.

” His eyes flicker. “I know you’re scared right now, but pretending you’re not, because if you let it break through, you don’t know if you’ll pull yourself back together.

” He takes another step, slow and certain.

“And I know you don’t trust me yet. That’s okay. ”

I’m backed against the porch rail now, heart hammering in my chest. His body’s close enough to feel the warmth of him, the steadiness, like he’s already built a space around me that no one else can reach.

“But I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs. “Whether you love me or hate me, I’m staying.”

“That’s not your call,” I whisper.

“It never was,” he replies with a small smile. “I’m just following the pull.”

His hand lifts like he might touch me—just for a second—but he stops short. He doesn’t press and he doesn’t take. He just waits.

“Valerie,” he says, softer now, like it’s almost a prayer, “you don’t have to understand it. You just have to let me protect you.”

“I already have protectors,” I rasp.

He smirks. “And now you have me. What will you do with the wolf on your leash, little star?” He leans in, his breath fanning across my face.

“Will you command him?” His eyes shine bright.

“Will you pet him?” His hand rises again, but he never touches me.

Still, I can feel the static between our flesh as he traces the air above my collarbone. “Will you feed him?”

And for the first time, I don’t know if the heat in my chest is panic. . .

. . .or something much, much deeper.

I choose panic. “Are you hungry? We’ve got Hot Pockets. I can nuke one for you.” I slip from between him and the railing and head for the door, but I stop before I go inside, all the while pretending like I completely missed his meaning. “Well, come on.”

Genuine amusement flickers in his eyes as his lips quirk up. But he follows me, just like he said he would.

My wolf on a leash.