Page 95 of Pistols & Peonies

I watch her go, torn between wanting to follow and wanting to give her space. She closes the door behind her– a solid indication she wants to be alone– so I just sit there stewing in my own thoughts for a while, listening to the slide of the drawers, the creak of the bedframe. Wondering whether bringing her here was a colossal mistake.

When I finally drag my ass off the couch and go in the bedroom, she’s already tucked underneath the covers, wearing one of my t-shirts. She’s facing away from me, her hair a dark tangle on the pillow. I quietly strip down to my boxers and climb into bed beside her, careful not to jostle her too much as I get settled.

The silence is thick. I can tell by her breathing that she’s not asleep yet, but she doesn’t make any of her usual snide comments about me taking up too much space or try to rile me up until I snap and put her through the mattress. Instead, she just lies there motionless, tense as a coiled spring.

I lie flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling while my inner wolf whines in my head. My fingers twitch with the urge to reach for Violet, but she’s so closed off right now that she’d probably flinch at my touch. That’d be worse than whatever this is, so I keep my hands to myself, willing my body to relax.

The minutes crawl by painfully slow. At some point, I eventually drift off.

When I wake, it’s to an empty bed and a fist-sized lump of dread in my gut.

She’s gone.

I’m up and out of bed in two seconds flat, checking the en-suite bathroom, then the hall. There’s no sign of her in the kitchen, the living room… anywhere in the damn house. My heart thuds against my ribs as I open the back door, bare feet slapping against the cold wood as I step out onto the deck and scan the lawn.

The sky’s still pitch black, a cool breeze whispering through the trees. I don’t see Violet anywhere, but I do find the t-shirt she was wearing abandoned at the base of the deck stairs.

“Violet?” I call, holding my breath as I listen for a response. The only answer is the wind through the pines, apprehension tightening my throat.

I bound down the stairs, strip off my boxers, and call my wolf forward. He bursts through my skin eagerly, the air around me shimmering as my body rearranges. When I land on four paws, the whole world sharpens– scent, sound, every detail snapping into focus. I catch a whiff of lemon and peony on the breeze, bolting for the treeline to follow it.

It doesn’t take me long to track her down. I spot Violet’s sleek black wolf perched at the crest of a hill, staring out at the water through the trees. Her head snaps in my direction when she hears me coming, and rather than waiting there or coming toward me, she spins around and takes off.

Fantastic.

My human mind is irritated, but a ripple of excitement courses through my wolf as we immediately give chase, the instinct to hunt kicking hard.

She’s fast. Faster than I remembered. She darts through the trees, the rhythm of her paws eating up the ground in long, graceful strides. For a second, it’s exhilarating: the chase, the raw animal need to catch and subdue. Then it becomes evident that she doesn’t want to get caught. She zig-zags, doubles back, leads me on a winding loop through the forest. I try to call out to her through the pack mind-link, but she’s not listening, her mental walls slammed shut.

I push harder, cutting through a strand of birch trees and leaping a fallen log, jaws snapping at her heels. She tries her damndest to evade me, but I’m bigger, stronger, and I know these woods far better than she does. As soon as I get the opportunity, I close the gap and lunge, tackling her to the ground.

She snaps her teeth furiously, but I easily pin her down, trapping her underneath me. She snarls and writhes, trying to buck me off. I just sink my weight down further. When she finally accepts there’s no escape, her body momentarily goes slack. Then she shifts, forcing the change mid-wrestle. I follow, letting my body rearrange itself, bones snapping and fur receding.

When the magic in the air around us clears, I’m straddling her on the cold forest floor, both of us naked and gasping for breath.

“Why the fuck did you run?” I pant.

“Maybe because there was a big, scary wolf chasing me,” she hisses, slapping her palms against my bare chest.

I frown down at her. “Maybe you should’ve told me you were going out for a run,” I growl. “You don’t know these woods. You could’ve gotten lost, or wound up trespassing onto someone else’s land…”

“I didn’t wander far,” she huffs, shoving at my chest, trying to dislodge me. “I was just fine until you showed up.”

“Not the point.” I snatch both her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head as I sink my weight deeper against her hips. “You disappear in the middle of the night and expect me not to worry?”

She rolls her eyes, head flopping to the side. “I’m a grown ass woman, Commander. I can take care of myself.”

“You’re my mate.”

Her head snaps back up, fierce blue eyes locking with mine. “Exactly. I’m not one of your dipshit enforcers you can order around.”

A growl rumbles in my chest. “Watch your mouth.”

She laughs, mean and mirthless. “Or what, you’ll spank me?”

I stare her down, the tether on my control fraying at the edges. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She twists beneath me, trying to roll away, but I clamp my thighs around her hips to keep her pinned in place.