Page 31 of Wild Games

Before I can second-guess myself, I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face in his thick fur, and allow myself this moment of weakness, to lean into his quiet strength.

Jax goes completely still, not even breathing. Then slowly, carefully, he relaxes into the embrace. His massive head curves around to rest against my back, and we sit there like that for a long moment.

Just for now, I let myself feel safe, protected and wanted. Finally, I pull back, wiping at my eyes.

“You should get back to the packhouse. It’s late.”

As I stand to leave, he settles onto his haunches, not ready to go just yet. He trots back to his spot in the treeline and settles into a more comfortable position that suggests, yes, he plans to stay right there. The steel in his eyes tells me exactly what his wolf is doing. Protecting his mate. And that just makes me sadder despite it being comforting to know he’s nearby.

Someone was almost killed tonight. I doubt they’d hesitate to come after me for investigating the case if they thought I was on to them.

“The final is only a couple of days away. We need to catch them fast.”

The wolf’s ears flick forward, listening. He barks, looking sharp and alert, and I swear, he’s telling me we’re going to get them. I really hope he’s right.

I turn to go back inside, then pause. “Jax?”

His ears perk up.

“What happened earlier... you can’t do that. It’s not fair. You know that, right?”

The wolf lowers his head and whines quietly.

“If you’re going to deny the bond, that’s one thing. But don’t toy with me.”

He whines again, soft and pained, and for a moment, I want to go to him again and bury my fingers in his fur, but things are too complicated already.

Instead, with an ache in my chest, I go back inside and lock the door behind me. Through the window, I can still see him there, a dark sentinel in the shadows.

When I finally crawl under the covers, exhausted, I know sleep will be elusive as I play over the day’s events and what we’ve learned.

The investigation materials on my desk catch moonlight through the window, taunting me, pages of notes and timeline charts to help me solve this case, yet I already know them inside and out. With time running out, it’s going to be hard to figure out who is tampering with the outcome.

It’s going to take something new to break this case wide open. But what?

I can’t let someone dying be the thing that finally brings us answers.

14

JAX

The first pale light of dawn creeps across the horizon, and I know it’s time. My wolf stretches, joints popping after hours of keeping watch. The scarf around my neck shifts with the movement, soft against my nose as I sniff it for the hundredth time.

We trot back through the quiet forest, my wolf unusually content. His smugness radiates through our shared consciousness, tail held high, striding confidently. Whatever happened last night, he’s pleased with himself.

Too pleased.

The packhouse comes into view, most windows still dark. Good. Less chance of running into anyone while I’m wearing her scarf like a badge of honour. My wolf preens at the thought, and I take control, pushing him back as we approach the basement entrance.

The shift comes easily, and my wolf relinquishes form without the usual fight. I stand naked in the pre-dawn chill, the scarf now loose around my human neck, and punch in the code for the basement door.

Inside, familiar concrete and almost darkness greet me. I should take off her scarf, fold it neatly and put it somewhere safe to return to Camille later. Instead, I find myself stroking the luxurious fabric, breathing in our combined scents, unable to take it off.

What did you do?I ask my wolf, but he remains silent, content to let me back into my human form, and to end the blackout, but that’s it. He’s not giving me anything, not when I still refuse to claim her as ours.

Memories filter through slowly, hazily, and I can’t be certain what’s real and what’s a dream. We’re so disconnected, my wolf and me. It’s more like two people living inside one head than being two parts of a whole as I’ve heard wolves describe it.

The only image he is willing to share is of her coming outside in that thin robe, skin still glowing and pink from her shower. She’d been crying, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from tears.