Page 6 of Wild Alpha (Cold-Blooded Alpha #12)

F isher is feeding small sticks into the fire when I burst into the clearing with a dead rabbit in my mouth.

He freezes. “Silver?”

I walk over to him slowly, not wanting to alarm him more than I already have. I probably scared him half to death by leaping out of the forest as a wolf. It is truly embarrassing how eager my wolf—and I—were to show him how well we can hunt.

I drop the rabbit near his foot and nudge it toward the fire.

The alarm on his face fades, and he offers a faint smile. “Definitely Silver. No other wolf would bring me dinner.”

When he stands, he appears steadier. Stronger.

His cheeks have more color, and there’s a canteen of water beside him.

There’s no sign of the awful granola bar.

Thank fuck . I’d gone for a run in the forest, got distracted by the joy of it, and worried he might be starving, or even worse, eating that disgusting granola bar because he couldn’t hunt his own food.

He catches me looking at the water canteen and raises his eyebrow. “Thirsty?”

I shake my head.

I’ve been to the creek and drunk my fill. I thought about bringing him water, but if I took his canteen as a human and returned with it as a wolf, he’d definitely wonder how I refilled it with paws instead of hands.

He takes a sip from the canteen as I settle on the ground beside him. “This bump on the head is a lot better. I should start heading home. I’ve been away longer than my dad expected.”

Yes, someone would miss him.

“But there’s a girl..." He places his water aside and picks up the rabbit, skinning it with the small, sharp knife he used earlier.

I tilt my head, watching him.

He glances at me. “There was a girl before, in just a dress and bare feet. She said she was staying in a cabin nearby, but I’m not sure I believe her.”

My muscles tense.

I gave myself away. Somehow, I said or did something that made him believe I wasn’t what I seemed.

Head down, he releases a long sigh. There’s a world of confusion in the sound. “If she’s lost or in trouble up here, I don’t want to leave her to fend for herself. But she seemed so wary. I’m not sure she’d agree to come down into town with me if I asked her.”

He’s right. I wouldn’t agree.

In town, I would need to pretend to be completely human. He would wonder where I went if I slipped out to run as a wolf, because being a wolf is as essential to me as breathing. That’s not a side I could or would ever want to cut off.

He’d be curious why his dad’s dog, Jett, went crazy barking at me when he smelled me, because even when I’m a woman, I still smell like a predator. And he would ask questions about why I was alone with no family, no friends, no money, no clothes, or ID.

Absolutely nothing to my name.

“I’m not sure what to do.” Fisher places the rabbit pieces into the pot, sets it over the fire, and peers into the flames. His expression is troubled. “I want to help her, but I don’t know how to do that.”

He knows nothing about me. Just a handful of lies I made up, a first name, and he’s up here staring into the fire, delaying going home to his family because he’s worried about me.

I stand up and walk toward him, catching his eye. I settle in much closer than I would with anyone else, but I am certain—absolutely certain—that he won’t hurt me.

He rinses the blood and fur from his hands using water from his canteen, then dries them with a towel he takes from his bag.

“Are you all alone up here, Silver?” His fingers delve into the fur on my back, and it takes everything in me not to moan in pleasure. I lean into his touch, craving more of it.

If I were human, I don’t know if I would be honest with him. It would hurt too much.

I’ve been alone for so long that I can’t remember what it’s like to be around someone without feeling awkward, shy, or tongue-tied. I immediately want to back away when I get too close to hikers or they get too close to me.

It's not just because I’m afraid they’ll hurt me. Being around people, even briefly, makes returning to being alone when they leave even harder.

I used to be surrounded by so much love and happiness that I never stopped feeling lucky until the day my dad told me that I was being handed over to a man who terrified me.

So, if Fisher asked me if I were alone when I was human, I would lie.

I wouldn’t want him to feel sorry for me or think that something must be wrong with me to be alone in the world.

He’d be nice about it, hiding his pity from me, but I’d known it was there, simmering beneath the surface.

“Silver?”

I push myself to my feet, suddenly sad, angry, and afraid.

Fisher will leave, I’ll go back to being alone again, and I hate it.

Hate that this is my life now.

Hate that there is no changing it.

Absolutely hate that there is no way to get back all the things I've lost.

That I will always be alone.

He calls after me. I ignore him.

I sprint away, wanting to outrun my pain and my sadness, but I’ve done this before. It never works. I’ve run and run, for what felt like a hundred thousand miles, and it is always still there.

With me.

The pain in my heart, the fear I will always be alone, the anguish of losing everything I know and everyone I love.

My wolf hates the water almost as much as I hate to be alone, but I leap into the lake I floated in before, reaching for my human self.

Human again, I kick my legs, diving to the bottom until my fingers skim the gravel.

My lungs burn, and I stay submerged longer than I should before twisting and kicking hard until I burst free, dragging in large, hungry breaths as the sun shines down on me.

I gaze up at the sky until its warmth dries my face, then swim to the water’s edge, step out, and wring out my wet hair. I’m trying to remember where I left my stolen dress when Fisher bursts from a gap between the trees, cheeks flushed.

He skids to a stop. His gaze drops, and his jaw hardens as his eyes burn.

“Fisher?” I should cover myself, but this shouldn’t have happened.

I’m shocked he came after me. Shocked he tracked me so accurately, and that he surprised me when my nose and ears should have picked up on him long before he appeared.

My wolf makes a sound of annoyance. It’s dangerous to let my mind wander and not pay attention to the world around me. It could easily have been a cougar here to maul me.

Fisher tears his eyes from my body, then turns, pulling his shirt off and holding it to the side. “Here,” he says, his voice husky. “I’m sorry I looked. I wasn’t expecting to..." his voice trails off. “I wasn’t expecting what I saw.”

Before he ran into me buck naked, there was fear in his eyes, as well as determination.

He thought something was wrong with me, so he followed to make sure I was okay, even though I was a wolf. I want to cry, hug him, and smile all at once.

He thrusts the shirt at me again. “Here.”

He’s more muscular than I was expecting. When he’s dressed, he looks lean, but his back is well-defined and strong, and his skin is a pale olive with tan lines from where he wore a T-shirt on a hot day.

I hesitate, then walk over, grab his shirt, and slip it over my head. It’s a bit too small to cover me entirely, the hem stopping at my mid-thigh, but it’s better than nothing. “Thanks.”

He turns and keeps his eyes firmly on my face this time. “I was chasing a wolf.” His smile is wry as he shakes his head, and it’s clear he’s someone who’s not afraid to laugh at himself. “You probably think I’m crazy, huh?”

No, I really don’t.

“Why did you chase the wolf?”

He scratches his head. “She seemed sad, and I was worried.” He gives me a longer look now. “I promise I’m not c?—”

I kiss him, so amazed that someone like Fisher exists in the world.

He tastes like a future I never believed I’d ever have. Tender and sweet and perfect. His lips are firm, and his hands are on my hips, tucking me against his chest.

Then I realize what I’m doing and yank my hands from his face and back up. “Sorry. I don’t?—”

His fingers are in my hair, drawing me back as he kisses me . He’s slanting his head to deepen the kiss I’m returning just as hungrily when my brain wakes up and I jerk away.

I can’t let myself get attached to this man. Whatever we have might be a sweet interlude in my lonely life, but it won’t last.

It can’t.

Instantly, he’s apologetic. “Sorry. I’m not in the habit of grabbing and kissing beautiful strangers like that.”

I lick my lips, wanting to kiss him again, but conscious there is so much about me—too much—he doesn’t know. If he knew those things, he wouldn’t want me.

“I should go,” I say, retreating. “I’m sure you have a family to get back to.”

He studies me for a beat. “Are you alone out here, Averie?”

I should lie. “Would it matter if I were?”

He cocks his head. “It would.”

“Why?” I ask, biting my lip.

“Because I’m not sure I can leave you up here alone. It isn’t safe.”

“I can look after myself.” Better than most.

He frowns, determined. “But you shouldn’t have to. People are stronger together than apart.”

Dad used to say that, and it hurts so much that he’s no longer here. I will never hear him say it again.

“I know that,” I say, turning to leave.

“Have you eaten?” he calls out.

“I can get myself food.” Hunting is what I do. It’s probably the only thing I’m good at.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve had a wolf popping into my life and taking care of me, but I think I want to take care of you.

I’m not sure how long it would take to hunt something, but I can fish like the best of them.

How about I catch us a fish for supper? The rabbit I left on the fire is probably burned to a crisp now. I’ll cook.”

Everything in me tells me to walk away from a man this nice. The longer I stay near him, the harder it will be to leave him. I even open my mouth to do it.

“I’d like that.”