“Are you stuck?” Another sound. I was sure it wasn’t the first time a werewolf got stuck in his form. But to shift forms required the help of a stronger wolf or his Alpha.
Lance hadn’t recognized him, and my gut was telling me he wasn’t a Chicago wolf. There was a familiarity about this wolf that nagged at me.
He invaded my space, nestling his head on my shoulder. The type of invasion of my personal space that I’d recently become too accustomed to. I took hold of his face. “Cirrian?”
I searched his eyes and face for any micro-expressions that could help me. Nothing. Cirrian said he couldn’t change into a wolf. I recalled his exact words, picking apart each one in search of signs of circumvention, at which he was particularly gifted. The devil was in the details of the things he didn’t say.
“If you’re Cirrian, circle me,” I requested. He stayed in his spot. “Move back if you’re Cirrian.”
Nothing.
This was too weird to be dismissed, but time constraints limited how much further I could investigate. He was a werewolf, which meant he understood me when in his animal form. I thanked him for his help and protection. Standing, I debated whether I should take the wolfsbane Keagan demanded I leave. I decided against it. This precarious situation with the wolf was going to cause me enough problems with Lance’s pack and the local witches; I wasn’t going to invite more by disobeying her request.
“Thank you, Wolfie.”
He made a face, then peeled back his lips to expose his teeth.
“Cirrian?” I tried again. He responded by bumping his lowered head against my upper ribs.
Okay, not Cirrian. I hated that I couldn’t be one hundred percent certain of it.
“You don’t like Wolfie.” Taking in the midnight fur with the shimmer of silver, I offered, “Onyx.”
He sneered.
“Obsidian?”
Did he roll his eyes?
“Raven?”
He nudged me hard enough to make me fall.What about Jackass? Seems really fitting right now.The idea that it was Cirrian resurfaced.
“No need to be a jerk about a name.” I gathered my bag. “Let’s hold off on giving you a name. If we cross paths again, we’ll figure something out, okay?” I got nothing. “I’m Kara.”
I tried not to read too much into the expression he gave, but it was a very unsettling and human, “I know.”
“I’m leaving. If you want, you can come with me. I’ll try to get our Alpha to help you change into your human form.” There was no guarantee Terran could. He’d have to be stronger than this werewolf, and I wasn’t sure he was. Not completely versed in pack dynamics, I didn’t know if a wolf had to be part of their pack for them to help it change.
Backing away slowly, I waited for him to follow. He remained rooted to his spot. Once I had several feet between us, I offered a farewell and turned my back to him, feeling the weight of his penetrating gaze as it followed me through the woods. Emerging into the clearing, I was relieved that Lance and Keagan weren’taround to ambush me with more questions. Ones I definitely could not answer.
Driving away, my thoughts kept circling back to the protective wolf. My guardian. The catalog of unexplained mysteries I needed to uncover was getting unmanageable.
15
Iwasn’t surprised to find Cirrian in my house. Instead of sitting on his preferred section of the sofa, he stood at my console, admiring the trinkets William had given me. His hair was slightly mussed, and he’d changed into matte black, the shirt and pants molded to his form. Cirrian’s alluring scent of cedar and musk wafted through the room.
He looked from the keepsake in his hand to me, cradling the backpack to my chest.
“Let me see your wolf,” I demanded, tossing the bag of wolfsbane on the sofa.
Cirrian’s head snapped in my direction. His brows rose, and a miscreant grin coasted over his lips.
“My wolf? Your methods of flirting are becoming increasingly creative,” he said in a husky rasp that rekindled the image of him looking at me at Diehle’s when I removed my shirt. A moment of immodesty that I thought would give me control had left me at a disadvantage. His hooded amber eyes undressed me. Dropping my eyes to his hand, I wondered what his fingers would feel like against my skin.
“What a provocative and strange way to ask to see my dick,” he quipped, drawing my attention back to him. His voicedropped to a low, sensual purr. “I’m assuming you’ve given up all pretenses of saving Amelia.”
Closing the distance between us, his eyes dragged over my body as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, giving me a peek of the ink crawling from his upper back and inching over his chest. “I’m assuming this situation is reciprocal. I show you mine and you’ll show me yours?”
