Page 12 of Whisper Woods (Legends of the Whisper Woods #3)

Seff

Seff, I am sorry I could not explain myself this morning. I do not think there are enough words to do so anyway. But what if I could show you? Meet me at the cliffs. I can wait til midnight but no longer.

I’ve spent the whole day, the whole ass day, helping Theo sneak-move Roan into the house behind the cottage. Laughing and joking, mask firmly in place. It’s been exhausting.

I stare unblinking at Rafe’s message. Glad he’s figured out how to do it.

Go now or I’ll hump a stool in the tavern in front of everyone . Wolf threatens, already trying to force me off the pillows covering the floor of Theo and Roan’s sunroom. It’s not exactly sunny now, considering it’s night and all, but the room is gorgeous, and between Theo and Roan and Caelan and Tor, the room is filled with so much love it’s making me sick to my stomach.

Wolf’s threat has real merit, though. He’ll do it. And while there are many things I’m willing to live down, that’s not one of them, so I scramble to my feet and make my hasty goodbyes. As I shut the door to the cottage behind me, I can hear my friends talking about my abrupt exit.

But I don’t care. I just want to see him. Need to see him.

I should probably still be mad or whatever. And I am. Kind of. But the compulsion to him is bigger than that. Going to him isn’t a choice . I could make excuses, like I want to hear his excuses for the fucked up notes. It wouldn’t even be a lie, because I’m desperate to know what his reasons are for keeping track of my friends like that. To know that he isn’t some dangerous creep. That everything hasn’t been some twisted lie.

I am sure that everyone—especially the pack—would say that my trust in him is stupid. But despite what I said this morning, I know Rafe. Maybe not every dumb detail of his life, but I know him .

Nanna Berry would say my spirit knows his—and I’d probably agree.

So of course I’m gonna go to him. I’ll always go when he calls.

It’s not until I reach my truck that I realise the first snag in my plan.

Work.

The pack.

Dad .

I stand by my old truck, one shoe already off in my hurry to strip for my change. I can’t go running into the Woods again can I? The pack needs me. Well, Dad does anyway.

Fuck the pack. Run now. Wolf gets impatient, attempting to force the change. I mentally bat him back, ignoring his frustrated growls. We can’t go against the pack , I remind him.

Although, you’d think my fucking wolf would know that. A thousand years of exhaustion settle on my shoulders. Obligation and duty warring with my instincts. A spark of anger tries to flare, but fails, settling into a weary kind of sadness instead.

Why does no one else in the pack ever seem to struggle with this like I do?

Guilt swirls in my guts as my finger hesitates over Dad’s number. Wolf, tired of my indecision, smashes my finger into the phone, the screen lighting extra bright as it dials through to Dad.

Maybe he won’t answer and I won’t have to do this? I pray to the Gods as I watch the phone ring.

“Seff?” I almost drop the phone when I hear Dad through the speaker. I manage to catch it in time and put it up to my ear, my mouth flapping for a moment while I struggle to get words out. “Seff? You there?” Dad asks again when I’ve been too silent.

“Uh, yeah Dad. I’m here. Sorry. It’s late.” I gulp down my nerves, leaning against the door of my car, my bouncing leg making it rock precariously.

“It is late. What’s wrong?” His voice is deep. Gruff and familiar.

He and Mum have always been there for me, even if they didn’t always understand me. They both grew up in the toxicity of the old days of the pack and fought—still fight—to do something different. Make our pack different, better.

Dad is a genuinely good man. No matter what, he tries to do the right thing by the pack, by our family, by the crew at work. I’ve always looked up to him. He’s been my hero, my dad and eventually my pack leader.

The issue isn’t them. It’s me.

Dad, Mum, Bree… they all fit. Especially Bree. Not only is she the best tracker we’ve ever had in the pack, and a solid member of the work crew when she’s home from school, but she’s also got the brains, studying civil engineering at university. It comes easy to her.

Mum took to being the pack leader's partner like a mermaid takes to water. She’s always loved caring for the pack and now she gets to do it by her mate’s side, slowly making all the changes she’s wanted to see her whole life. It takes a strong being to dismantle the entrenched behaviours affecting the pack. But Mum is one of the strongest beings I know and she is making it happen.

Me, though? I’ve always known I’m different. They know I’m different. Something inside that makes everything harder for me than it is for everyone else to be settled within the pack, places me on the outside looking in.

It’s why I love the Black Stump. Theo, Seldon, Roan, Mauvy, Edith, Caelan—even Tor. I never felt on the outside with them. Never felt out of place. It’s why I clung to the idea of Caelan for so long after our breakup. It was the closest I ever felt like truly belonging.

My brain has a moment of sparkling clarity that allows me to find my confidence and my words.

“Dad, I’m sorry. I know this is last minute.” I hear his soft sigh, his exasperation, but it doesn’t sting as much as it usually does. “But I won’t be at work tomorrow.”

“Seff.” He’s using his Pack Leader voice, the one that always makes me feel just a little bit small. “We talked about this. You can’t just bail out on work at the last minute all the time. I warned you, if you called out again I was going to have to fire you.” His voice softens. “Please don’t make me do that, son. ”

“I won't, Dad. You don’t have to fire me. Because—because I quit. It’s shit of me, I know. I’ve been jerking you around and it’s unfair.” There are muffled curses and I can hear him moving in the background. “I love the job. And you. And Mum. I love you guys so much—and I’m so grateful for you both. But… it’s never been my… place. And I need to go find where that is for me.”

“What are you talking about? Of course the pack is your place.”

“Dad, seriously.” I heave a sigh and stare up at the stars, very aware that the clock is ticking on my ability to get to Rafe, but determined to have this moment with Dad. “I never even mentioned the pack. We were talking about work.”

He tries to interject with stammering excuses, but I cut him off. “If it weren’t an issue, you never would have made the connection. I need time. Time to sort my shit out and stop messing you and the guys around.”

“You can’t just run away from your problems, Seff. You have to put in some effort. Give things a go. Commitment takes work—” I have no idea where Dad was going with his blustering ramble, because I can’t keep it in anymore.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Dad?” I explode, stepping away from my car to throw my free hand wide like he can see me. The movement makes me feel better so I pace the length beside my car. “I have done nothing but try. I’ve given it everything I have. My whole fucking life, cutting myself into pieces for the pack. For the job. For you and Mum. When is it my turn? When do I just get to just be me? When is it enough?”

Exhausted to my bone, and more than a little sick from the far too open truths I just unleashed—probably unfairly—on my dad, I lean against my truck. The metal is cool against the heat of my forehead. Wolf whimpers in the recess of my mind, offering a mental nudge of comfort.

The silence between Dad and me drags on and on. It’s a stalemate. I can’t be the first one to talk. If I do, I’ll cave. I know it.

“So you’re leaving the pack?” He sounds heartbroken. And why wouldn’t he be?

“No. Maybe? I don’t know Dad. That’s what I have to figure out. I’m uh, going away. Not sure when I’ll be back. I’m leaving my truck at the Black Stump. But I’ll be back and then we’ll talk. Okay? ”

He sighs, and coughs like he’s covering up one emotion or another.

“Don’t really have a choice now, do I?” His voice is rough and I have to shove down the urge to take it all back and promise I’ll be there on site first thing in the morning. “Be safe okay?”

“I promise, Dad. Tell Mum and Bree I love them okay? And hey, at least Bree’s back from school soon. She’ll be able to help out. Oh! And make sure someone checks on Nanna.”

“Of course, Seff. I love you, too. You know that right?” The quiver in Dad’s voice almost has me wanting to snatch back all my words. Only the image of Rafe’s face in my mind’s eye keeps me holding strong.

“I know, Dad. I know.”

“Okay.” There is a sniffle and he does the throat clearing cough again. “Right, well, I better let you get onto it. Can I know what you’re doing, at least?”

I expel a shaky breath, rubbing at the spot in my chest that always aches when I think too hard about Rafe and his secrets.

“I wish I could tell you.” An absolute truth. “But I can’t. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can, though. I promise.”

There is a stifled sound through the line and I feel a flash of intense sympathy for my parents about all my secrecy lately. It couldn’t have been nice to hear all the rumours about your son facing death with ghost giants or whatever other dumb stories the gossipy beings of the Woods spread about our trip to the cottage.

“Okay, son. I’ll let you go then. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Fuck, I love my dad.

“Same, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you, too, son.”

Tears burn my eyes, threatening to spill over.

“Bye Dad.”

Dad’s voice has the same reedy strength to it when he speaks. “Bye Seff.”

Hanging up feels so final. I stare at the blank screen for several moments, trying to piece together the immensity of what I’ve just done. I feel a little shaky as I send a quick message to Mauvy that I’m leaving my car there, and strip off, getting my little go bag from my glove box.

Once my clothes are secure in the car, I let Wolf take over; the change ripples through our body. He doesn’t hesitate, bolting through the carpark and out into the Woods with breakneck speed. I try to remind him that we’ve got a long run ahead of him, to pace ourselves, but he ignores me with a snarling growl, utterly determined to get to Rafe as quickly as his four paws will get us there.

The cliffs aren’t close and on foot, well human feet, it would take a lot longer. But Wolf can take the paths that I wouldn’t be able to go on my own. The Woods flies past in blurs of dark greens and shadows, Wolf’s canine eyes sensing the world in entirely new lights. It’s a surreal feeling, being a passenger in a body. I’ve tried to explain it to non-shifter beings and humans, but it’s impossible to find the words to someone who could never have the experience.

I’ve had mages and witches liken it to working with the astral realm, but considering I’ve never done that I have no idea if it’s true. But I can feel everything he does, every scrape of the trees as he rushes past, every flying leap he takes, every jolt to his body as he lands. But it’s a numb feeling. Separate to me and my existence. We can tune each other out, go to the nothing place when we’re in the back seat, and it’s something I’ve been grateful for over the years when Wolf’s been off doing… Wolf things.

There are dangers for shifters, having our consciousness shared like this. It’s a constant balancing act. While our “human” sides need to maintain most of the control, if it goes too far either way, it creates all kinds of problems. I remember when I was a kid, there was one older man in the pack. He lost his mate and slipped into a deep depression. As he got more and more sick, his wolf started taking on a more dominant force. But his wolf wasn’t dealing with the loss of his mate either… He’d become vicious, a danger even by Colin’s standards. I’d only been five or so at the time, but after he attacked pack members, unprovoked outside of the fighting ring, he’d been sent into a shifter care facility in the city.

I let my mind drift back to Wolf to check in, feeling our body flagging. I don’t bother asking how long we’ve been running for. Wolf’s understanding of time is pretty loose. Light is day, dark is night and we do shit in between.

You all good bud? I ask as he leaps deftly between rocks in our path. Our chest is heaving, each muscle aching, but Wolf keeps going with the type of laser focus I’ve never found even once in my life.

Well, except for when I’ve got Rafe’s hands on me. Then the entire world falls away into nothingness.

Good. Get to Rafe soon. Almost scent him. Wolf lets out a small growl as he slips on mossy grass, scrambling to keep on his feet. I can feel his frustration at my distraction so I sink back to let him go.

I let the flashing of our surroundings distract me from my mind. It’s in moments like this, when we’re running, when I understand how that guy let his wolf take over in his grief. I’m here, but I’m not. I’m conscious, but it’s dull. I can let go of the constant hammering of my brain. It would be easy, I think, when the world got too much, to let it all go.

Wolf’s body sharpens, every sense pinging into high awareness. Our skin tingles as his fur stands on end, ears twitching, nose scenting the air.

Close . He’s right. The subtle smokey, sweet scent grows stronger, as Wolf barrels his way through the Woods with absolutely no regard to our safety. That same fizzling awareness of Rafe, his closeness pulls at me.

My turn I try to shove my way to the surface but Wolf pushes back harder, doubling down on his efforts, just as eager to be in Rafe’s presence.

We fight for dominance over our body, but I can’t force the change. The magic shimmers around us making the world wonky for a bit.

But Wolf wins the race, leaping from the trees like we’re flying—I’ve changed during one of his leaps before and the landing sucks —skidding to a stop on the gravelly clearing on the cliffs.

Wait! With all of my power I try to stop Wolf, but he continues on, shoving back at me almost carelessly as he trots, tail wagging, tongue lolling out our mouths towards the being standing at the edge of the cliffs.

The being who smells like Rafe.

Feels like Rafe.

But that… can’t be Rafe.

In a moment that echoes our first meeting, the midnight-blue scaled being stands with his back to us, staring out at the Woods. The moon is only new, casting scary ass shadows over everything. Thick, curved spikes form two rows over the creature’s—being’s? Rafe’s?—dragon-like head. They start kind of small at the thick ridge where his eyebrows should be and grow bigger—more deadly—as they reach the crown of his angular, animalistic skull and then continue down to his neck where they disappear into the ridged scales that cover his body. Even in the dark they have a rich blue sheen.

As Wolf approaches, the being turns to face us, his posture relaxed, easy and non-threatening with our approach. One clawed hand reaches out to scratch delicately behind our ear and Wolf drops our ass to the ground, panting happily but exhausted and weary. He melts under the beast's affection, slumping to the ground with happy little wolf snuffles. If I wasn’t so confused, I’d be embarrassed.

Look up you bastard! Wolf shut our damned eyes in his happy little stupor. I try to force the change again, hating the lack of control over our body with the fire of a thousand suns. Wolf ignores my panic, satisfied in his successful mission in getting us to Rafe, while the logical parts of my brain—limited as they are—grapple with my instincts.

I just need to see him. I plead. With Wolf and myself. A sneezy-snort is his only acknowledgement before he lets go of control.

The beast, Rafe , is still scratching my head when I come to myself on the ground. It feels good. Really good. Especially with everything so sore from our epic run. I let my eyes stay shut for another second, knowing that when I open them everything is going to be different.

Different good, different bad, I don’t know. But everything is about to change and despite all my big talk about needing something new, I want the security for just one more moment.

“Hello Seff.” Oh Gods. The low rumble only makes his voice hotter . How is it possible? My brain finally catches up to what my instincts and Wolf already knew.

I crack my eyes open and roll onto my back. His face is looming over me and, despite those kind of terrifying spikes laying flat against his head now, I can’t stop the quick spike of panic at the toothsome, dragon-y face grinning down at me.

The scales on his face are smoother, with hard ridges over his eyebrows, the scar over his left eye still present and more terrifying in this form. Those eyes are the same, though. One milky white, the other brown, with its long pupil, still fixated on me with that same intensity.

His snout is stubbier than what you usually imagine when you think of dragons but it is still distinctly dragonesque and the same inky blue black as the rest of him. He still has his piercing on his nose. Snout? Whatever. Even his long, pointed ears are still pierced, the gold catching in the minimal light.

Rafe sits back, allowing me to sit up and inspect him. The scales get larger again, becoming raised ridges, pointed but not sharp over his jaw and down his neck before blending into the smooth but thick skin of his chest and abdomen. I wonder what that feels like? It doesn’t feel right to touch him, though. Not yet.

My eyes travel down further, over the same thick smooth skin of his pelvis. The way he’s kneeling, sitting back on his heels like he is, exposes the way the skin gives way to the scales once again on his thighs. And his dick… it’s… not there? Only that same thick skin covering his groin. I know I’m staring, but what the fuck? A frown puckers my brow, my brain back to firing a thousand miles an hour trying to do the maths on top of everything else tonight.

And I always sucked at maths.

A throaty chuckle draws my attention away from the not-a-dick to Rafe’s face. Is it strange that I still think he’s hot like this? Can he kiss with that dragon mouth? The teeth might be a bit of a problem but—

“Are you okay, sweetness?” The thick skin of his brows puckers into a frown of worry, nostrils flaring as he huffs a breath that fans over my trembling skin. Between the cold and the shock, I realise I’m shaking and I wrap my arms over my waist.

“Uh, yeah.” My throat is sore. I’d kill for some water, but that’s going to have to wait. I look over his face again, taking in every unreal detail. “I don’t.. I don’t understand.”

With his usual unnatural grace, Rafe stands and I finally see his elongated feet, the claws on his toes. Not unlike the claws on the hand he’s holding out to help me up. I blink at it a couple of times, definitely not considering what it would be like to have him run those deadly talons over me. Because that would be weird .

I take the offer of help, because I need it. My legs are weak and shaking under me. Wolf absolutely wiped us out to get here. Standing toe to claw with beast-Rafe, I try real hard to ignore the way my junk is brushing against the smoothness where his should be.

Instead, I stare into his eyes. It’s comforting in the way that Rafe always is. Safe—even though I can sense his anxiety. He’s scared I realise. Scared that I’ll reject him? For this ? My snort isn’t an inside thought, unfortunately, and his face twists from the neutrality he’s attempting to something more curious.

I cave to that curiosity, letting one of my hands come up to cradle the strong jaw of his snout. The skin and scales feel smooth under my touch. It’s not bad, just different. My thumb strokes under his lips and then I let my hand wander, trailing down the bumpy scales of his neck, onto the skin of his chest.

It’s fucking wild . The hairless skin, the nothingness where nipples usually are. It feels solid, thick, and leathery. My other hand joins the fun, running my hands all over him, learning the feel of him. He relaxes under my eager exploration, a soft purring rumble from his chest shooting straight to my dick.

All this touching is definitely getting to me, because dragon Rafe? Not a turn off apparently. Fuck, it’s probably even hotter? I can feel the power in him, and it sets my blood on fire.

Really need to figure out that dick thing . I think, my hands trailing down the valleys of his hips on to the promised land. But clawed hands, more calloused and rough than his other skin, snatch up my wrists, pulling off my hands with a rough snort. I whine in disappointment, sticking my lower lip out in a pout and looking back up at his face.

He looks amused. Reassured. “We can get to that all in good time, my kushinavya. Right now there is a lot to discuss. A lot I need to show you. Explain.”

Understatement of the century. “Like how you’re a fucking dragon shifter?” I smirk and his head see-saws side to side.

“Not a shifter.” His voice is so growly, it vibrates through me, making my balls tingle and my cock twitch, drawing a smirk from him. Seriously, how is he so hot? “But yes, that, too. But first, I’m sorry I couldn’t explain earlier. Genuinely. I… There were things I could not say. There is… so much you don’t know. I don’t know where to begin. How to begin.” His voice fractures under the weight of everything he is trying to say but can’t.

Logic, reason, common sense all say I should still be angry, that trusting him is stupidity. There are a thousand and ten reasons to run from him, right now. Haul ass back to the Black Stump Tavern, run back to the pack, wrap myself up in the safety of everything I knew and understood, right before this moment. And he’d let me go, even though it would break him.

But I don’t. Because it would break me to go.

I don’t understand this pull towards Rafe. He’s orbited my world for the past few years, the magnetic force of our attraction dragging us closer and closer.

Until now. The point of impact.

This is it. The moment on the cliff. Jump and fly, or retreat.

But there is something I know. Beyond my instincts, beyond Wolf’s furious howl, with every fucking cell in my body.

I tenderly cup Rafe’s powerful and wicked jaw, soothing the tense muscles there with my fingers. “Whatever it is, Rafe, I’m in this. Whatever it is. One-hundred and ten percent. I’m with you. I trust you.”

His good eye flicks back and forth between mine. Reading the unspoken words. Seeing it splayed all over my spirit and whatever this is between us I’m still too chicken-shit to claim. I can feel the way his jaw is flexing under my hands while he considers. And then he nods. A gruff grunt of understanding.

His clawed hands cover mine, pressing against my hands before he takes them in his. He keeps hold of one hand, tugging me as he steps back.

“Then… come with me. Let me show you.”

And I follow, willingly, into bliss, into the ether, into oblivion. I don’t know. But I follow.