Page 3 of The Wolf and the Chimera (The Witch and the Cowboy #3)

Elle

I adjusted the too-tight sleeve of the blouse Cady had loaned me, though I was grateful she’d talked me into taking her deceased mother’s clothes. They fit poorly but were far less flimsy than the towel.

“You want me to what?” I repeated.

Ryder sighed and crossed his muscular arms. “You heard me.”

“Surely, there’s a car or something we can take instead—”

In seconds, Ryder shifted into a giant, black wolf whose back reached my shoulders.

Though we stood in the open pasture outside Walker’s house, Ryder’s hulking frame overwhelmed me.

The breeze ruffled his midnight black fur, and the knee-high grass tickled my legs.

The sun sank near the horizon, and I squinted against its shine.

At least you’re outside, I thought.

Anything was better than being underground.

“I really don’t want to be carried,” I argued and wrapped my arms around myself. “Can’t we just walk?”

Ryder shook his giant head and growled. Anyone else would’ve feared the menacing wolf, but he wouldn’t hurt me. Though we had our issues, he’d proven my safety was his priority.

Ryder laid on his belly and stared at me, but I bypassed him and walked directly toward the woods.

With quick reflexes, he stood and lunged in front of me.

I tried to get past him again, and he blocked me again.

When he let me pass, I smiled. For once, I had worn the obstinate werewolf down.

As I neared the towering trees, something crunched and snarled behind me, and I turned back.

Human and very naked, Ryder glared at me. Startling, I realized his bones had crunched when he shifted back into human form, but the thought was quickly eclipsed by the miles of tan skin and rippling muscles and dusting of dark hair that trailed down his torso—

My gaze dipped south before I could stop it, and I spun away from Ryder. Mortification heated my face.

“Get your fill?” he taunted.

Gods, he’s arrogant.

It wasn’t fair that someone so pushy and full of himself was also the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

“You’re the one who flashed me,” I argued.

“Because you’re being stubborn,” he shot back.

My temper flared. “Only because you turned furry before you could give me a reasonable explanation as to why I can’t walk on my own perfectly good legs to get to your pack’s home—”

“Every second we’re not under their protection is another second for the High Witch’s cronies to catch us,” he said. “And we don’t have time to look for a car, not that we could drive to the pack cabin even if we did.”

I crossed my arms and dragged my boot-clad foot across the brittle grass. I was being stubborn, and if I kept it up, I would get us killed.

“And,” Ryder added, “sorry, Ellie, but I’m a lot faster than you.”

Irritation replaced my shame. The man brought my maturity level down to that of a second grader’s, yet knowing this did not stop me from acting like a child.

“When I’m in this form,” I muttered. “Could you try not to be such a jerk? My name is Elle—not Ellie. ”

“Will you stop arguing about trivial shit?” he countered.

“Fine,” I huffed and gritted my teeth.

Something still chafed me, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit what it was. I toyed with the end of one of my braids.

Ryder sighed. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” I snapped. “Aren’t you going to shift?”

“You’re fidgeting,” he said, and I dropped my hand. “There’s something bothering you. I’d like to know what it is before we greet my pack.”

I hesitated. “Why did you come for me?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Why did you come to court?” I said. “Why are you still doing everything to save me?”

When I don’t even like you, I didn’t add.

His tone made it clear he thought the answer was obvious. “Because you’re my mate. How could I not protect you?”

I cursed the pang of hurt in my chest. I barely knew Ryder. In the time we’d spent together, we had barely gotten along.

What had I expected his answer to be?

Like everyone else in my life, Ryder’s allegiance to me was forced by fate.

My adoptive parents—the only parents I had ever known—were gone because in my infancy, a witch had given me to them with strict orders to guard me with their lives.

Though they had loved me, I was always first and foremost a duty to them.

Ryder was no different.

Destiny had decided I held the other half of Ryder’s soul, so I was now his to protect—his burden to bear. He hadn’t chosen me, and I hadn’t chosen him. I couldn’t afford for his devotion to muddle my feelings toward him. It was, after all, just another thing outside my control.

“Ellie?” he asked softly. Grass crunched behind me, and his breath was warm against my neck. Bergamot and pine scented the air. He had stepped closer .

“I’m not actually your mate,” I said and winced. “I mean, I know I am…”

It was undeniable after the way he’d pierced Medea’s control over me. Gods, it had been undeniable since the moment I saw him on the flaming ship.

“But we aren’t together,” I amended. “And I don’t think we ever will be. I just wanted you to know that before deciding to continue.”

If he wanted to abandon me in the woods, he could. I wanted to live, but not under false pretenses.

After a few terse moments, Ryder broke the silence.

“You’re entitled to feel however you want to feel about me, Ellie.” His tone was utterly devoid of emotion and left no room for argument. “But in front of my pack or any other wolves, we’re together. Our mating extends their protection to you. It’s safer for you not to publicly rebuke it.”

“All right,” I said and bit back my shock.

I hadn’t exactly expected a romantic declaration, but Ryder’s reply caught me off-guard. Part of me wondered if he was any happier about being irrevocably attached to me than I was about being tethered to him.

Though no one quite understood the magic that bonded mates together, it was rare enough to be considered a blessing.

Many werewolves lived out the entirety of their long lives without ever finding their mate.

They chose partners the human way, though from what my parents had taught me about wolf culture, all of them longed for the rare chance at a true soul mate—a bond so unbreakable, it was blessed by the gods.

It appeared Ryder didn’t experience that longing.

Before I could sulk over it, bones popped, and flesh stretched. When Ryder growled, I turned around and faced the huge, black wolf. He laid on his stomach, and this time I swung my leg over his back. As he stood, I clutched his fur for balance and squeezed my thighs. I had ridden horses before.

This couldn’t be that different, right ?

As Ryder hurried into the forest, I realized a werewolf moved nothing like a horse.

Beneath me, his coat rolled with every pounding stride. Wind whipped my face and stung my eyes. I crouched lower against his body and sank my fingers deeper into his fur. The greenery of the forest blurred, and I focused directly between Ryder’s ears to keep from losing my balance.

I grew more accustomed to Ryder’s gait and realized the ground sloped downward. It took all my pitiful core muscles to keep upright. Soon, we approached a trickling creek that cut through a valley. Not only was the creek wide, but the mountain across from us was steep enough that I balked.

We didn’t slow down.

With the barest pause to rock his weight onto his haunches, Ryder leaped over the creek and onto the rocky terrain of the next mountain. As we landed, I lurched forward and wrapped my arms around his neck to keep from falling.

With a racing heart, I buried my face in his fur. Gravity pulled me back and my legs slipped. I gripped Ryder’s fur even tighter between my fingers. Ryder’s claws scratched against rock, and I didn’t dare lift my head. Eventually, the ground leveled, and I loosened my death-grip on Ryder’s neck.

The werewolf slowed. I looked up, and my breath caught.

Gone was the rocky earth and towering trees.

Ryder loped into a meadow filled with wildflowers, swaying grasses, and a huge cabin.

Twilight cast the sight in shades of gold, which reflected on the many roaming wolves’ fur.

As more and more of them noticed Ryder’s approach, they howled.

Ryder ran faster toward the looming, wood-paneled cabin, and goose bumps raised on my arms. The wolves’ many voices formed a song that filled my chest with an ache I couldn’t ignore. Though I didn’t speak wolf, I recognized their call for what it meant.

They were welcoming him home.

Home, I thought. I wonder what it's like to have one of those .

We neared the multi-level, wood-paneled cabin, and werewolves—in human form—stood on its wraparound porch with matching, teary-eyed grins. These people, dressed in simple jeans and t-shirts, loved Ryder—it was plain as day on their faces.

A behemoth of a man hurried down the cabin’s front steps, and they creaked under his bare feet.

Immediately, I recognized him as Ryder’s father.

He shared his son’s bright eyes, hulking frame, and dominant presence.

Though his black hair was streaked with gray, he was a spitting image of an older Ryder.

As a grin split his face, I amended my observation to an older, friendlier Ryder.

“Son,” he greeted, “you’re back.”

Ryder lowered himself to his stomach, but I was suddenly hesitant to climb off his back. These people loved Ryder, but I wasn’t confident their allegiance spread to me—I wasn’t a wolf.

I was an outsider.

“Apologies,” Ryder’s father said and looked at me. His joy was palpable, and my heart ached for my own dad. “My name is Kaidan Blake, Alpha of the Hol Creek pack, but you can call me Kai. Welcome, daughter.”

Though he clearly assumed Ryder and I were together -together, tears pricked my eyes at his immediate acceptance. Rather ungracefully, I climbed off Ryder’s back and winced at my sore, stiff muscles. Beside me, Ryder shifted into his human form.