The other wolves circled up around me, as if to keep me from going down there and doing something stupid.
I sat on my haunches, lifted my muzzle to the sky and howled.
The voices of my brothers answered me, filling the sky with the mournful sound of a wolf who’d lost his love.
24
NATALIE
I woke up hoping it would be tomorrow, but it wasn’t.
It was only eight, and the light was mostly faded in the sky. Night was falling fast. I’d slept three hours, that was all. My skin was covered in goosebumps, but I wasn’t sure why.
And then I heard it—a wolf’s howl.
Every hair on my arms stood up, and my face instantly felt tight and hot, tears burning in my eyes. Because I knew without a shadow of a doubt—that howl belonged to Rand.
His heart hurt as much as mine did.
Choking back a sob, I climbed out of the bed and threw back the curtain. The howl sounded far away, but I still found myself looking for him anyway.
Like he’d be here as he always promised he would.
But he wasn’t. And he wasn’t coming. I’d told him not to follow, and he’d honored my wishes.
I slipped my flip flops on and went down the stairs. I walked an aimless circle around the ground floor. Everything reminded me of Rand. The newly patched wall where he’d pulled fresh wiring through, the table where he’d sat eating a sandwich, the blanket from our time at the swimming hole that I’d left by the cellar door to put in the laundry.
I picked it up and carried it down the stairs. Rand had already repaired the broken stair and made sure all the rest of the boards were solid. I tossed the blanket in the washing machine and started it then looked around at the shelves of stuff Uncle Adam had stored down here.
What was even in these boxes? I pulled one down. Anything was better than thinking about Rand.
I pulled the lid off and stared down. Inside was an old black and white photo, curled at the edges. A high school prom picture.
I flipped it over to look at the back. Written in a female’s clean script were the words, “Adam and Maggie, Prom 1950” and a heart. My pulse picked up speed. I turned the photo back over and studied both their faces. The youthful exuberance there. Uncle Adam looked proud of the teen on his arm. Maggie was young and vibrant and looked bright and happy. She wore a strapless dress with a full skirt and had dark hair that fell in waves above her bare shoulders.
My heart squeezed painfully. They looked so content, but their love had been doomed. Was it a Sheffield thing? Were we meant to fail at love? Were me and Rand just as doomed?
I set the photo aside and looked back in the box. There were movie stubs. A man’s class ring on a chain. Letters. Should I read them?
On one hand, it felt like an invasion of privacy. Uncle Adam never stopped loving this woman, the story he’d shared as fresh in my mind as when he’d first told me. He’d saved this box of memories of her until the day he died. On the other hand, maybe my witnessing their love would be an honor to those memories?
Or maybe I just wanted to feel someone else’s pain instead of my own right now.
I examined an envelope addressed to Uncle Adam in the same loopy scrawl as was on the back of the photo. The sender was Maggie Landing, and she’d sent it from Broomfield, Colorado.
I inhaled sharply. So this was after their break up.
With trembling fingers I pulled out the letter and opened it.
Dear Adam,
To honor my mate, I won’t write again, and I must ask that you please not write me back. I wanted you to know, though, that you were right. Leaving with my mate—even though discovering him was sudden and unexpected and frightening—has been the happiest decision of my life.
I know I broke your heart, and for that I will forever be sorry. I will always treasure my memories of you, my best friend and my first sweetheart. But there’s no denying fate. Fate chose another male for me—I knew him the moment I caught his scent. He makes me unbelievably happy. My wolf is happy, I’m happy. Our love grows and blossoms more every day. I’m getting used to living with his pack, and I’m already pregnant with his pup. Forgive me if this news is painful to you—that was not my intent, I only write to reassure you that I’m content, and I hope you can be, too.
Thank you for supporting me always, even—especially—in letting me go to be with my fated mate.
I hope someday you’ll find your version of a fated mate. The love that only grows.
Best wishes,
Maggie
I sniffed, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. Poor Uncle Adam. He fell in love with the wrong girl.
But at least Maggie had found joy. It didn’t sound like some kind of pack-arranged marriage. It was the kind of attraction Rand described. What he claimed he had with me. One scent, and he’d known, just as Maggie had mentioned.
The love that only grows. Was that what we had?
Did Rand actually love me?
He’d said what he felt was just like love, but I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t a shifter, I didn’t feel it the same.
The lone wolf howl sounded again. I jumped to my feet. It had sounded closer this time.
Had he come for me?
Remembering how he’d gone to the swimming hole that night of the full moon, I started running up the stairs. Was he there, waiting for me?
It was probably irrational. Possibly stupid. But I felt like he might be there again. At my swimming hole. Where he’d shown me his wolf and gave me the gift of my violin back.
Now, he was giving me space but watching over me in wolf form.
He was letting me go but not leaving. He’d said he’d never leave. That was love. So was the way he winked at me. The way he showed up every day after work. How he’d fixed the broken step. Moved the spider from my bedroom and outside.
It was so clear now. So obvious. He might not have said the words, but he’d shown me. Maybe that was more important. Actions didn’t lie. My parents actions were obvious, filled with anger. Hate. They resented each other, and it showed. It was clear there was no love between them.
But Rand? Every single thing he’d done sprung from love. Maybe I’d been the one blinded by the wolf. So caught up in differences, limitations and the past that I’d lost sight of the rest of Rand. Of us.
I grabbed a sweater and dashed out onto my porch, stopping to listen to the night sounds. Hoping to hear the wolf-song. My wolf-song.
Somewhere nearby, I thought I heard a twig snap, and I startled, peering into the darkness.
“Rand?” I asked. My voice sounded froggy from crying.
A shiver of foreboding ran through me as I listened to the silence. I’d never been afraid at the house before, but I suddenly wished Rand was here.
Another howl pierced the air. Rand! I was right! It was closer than before—not up on the mountain.
I started running for the swimming hole, certain he’d be there.
The issue of Rob asking Rand to talk to me about the B&B suddenly seemed overblown. It had made me feel like an outsider and question Rand’s intentions, but I should have given him a chance to explain. I shouldn’t have pushed and resisted and feared his commitment to me. It was the only thing I knew to be true.
I stumbled over rocks as I ran through the darkness, wishing I’d brought a flashlight. But I couldn’t stop, couldn’t go back. A sense of urgency had come over me, and I couldn’t stop until I got to the swimming hole.