Page 12 of Red

Serves you right. I have no patience for bullies. I have dealt with them for most of my life.

I watch his body shake and go down into a crouch. His fur vanishes, absorbing into him, leaving a man who is small in comparison to the wolf. As he stands, I notice he’s dressed in all black again. I am understanding why he loves it so much.

“What the hell was that?” He glares at his red hand.

“Don’t you mean, ‘Hello, sorry for shoving you to the ground’?” I prop myself up on my elbows. At least I got him off me.

“No, I mean, how are you so hot?”

“I will ignore your rude comment. Just because I’m not a giant doesn’t mean I’m ugly.”

His eyes narrow, and he looks at the sky between the trees in frustration. Like I’d make this easy. If Pratt was here, he’d be reminding me that secrets need to be kept. I shake him out of my head and get up to move away from the melted snow.

“Why are you out here in the woods? Nikki said you were in the house when she left. It’s not safe.”

So they talk often then. She did say he was taking his time. Maybe that’s the way they are together.

“Well, you and Nikki can enjoy yourselves in your home. I will gladly be on my way to gather my things and go to my home.”

The heat in me doesn’t dissipate as nerves fill me. I never get like this, and there’s only one true way to cool off. No. I can almost hear Pratt saying it, the way he always did when I crossed a line. If I run, it’ll be worse.

I shift into the deeper snow off the trail, pulling from the millions of snowflakes layered together, and start off in the direction of the house, well aware of it melting around me.

“Nikki is—”

I don’t give him a chance to finish. “You tackled me to the damn ground. Leave me alone, Stark.” I flip him the bird and continue my trek back in the deeper snow, which comes up to right below my knees. It starts to help.

He doesn’t leave, but rather trails behind me all the way to the house.

If I have to take another shower, I might run Stark out of water—but I do anyway.

Before I can get dressed, a knock comes at the door. It’s not even close to dinnertime.

I pull the towel from my hair and wrap it around my dry body. I do want to leave, but I can’t unless the Elders agree. Some rules we can’t fight.

Before I reach the door, it swings open and Stark barges in. What the fuck is wrong with this man?

“Excuse me?” I tug my towel tighter around me. For the first time, I notice it’s not huge, like everything else in this house. The towel is designed for humans, not werewolves.

“I knocked earlier, and you didn’t answer. Figured you’d escaped out a window.” He stares out the large window between the bed and the bookshelves. In front of it is a nice chair, too small for him now that he’s standing next to it. Weird.

“I went for a shower.”

Cluing in, his eyes go wide and his cheeks fill with a faint pink when he turns to face me.

Guess I got it, even small and useless.

“Shit, Aloka, you—” He pauses, and those blue eyes trace me.

I shift on my feet. There’s no reason to react, I tell myself. I’m a human, while he’s the youngest Alpha our packs have ever had, according to the history books.

“Can you get out so I can get dressed? I’ll be out in five minutes.”

“I’ll be right outside the door.”

“Fine.” I wrap my hand around his wrist, though it doesn’t wrap fully, and pull him toward the door. My fingertips get a strange tingling. Once he’s out, I let go and enter back into my room. The audacity of him. The tingles fade, and when I look down, my hand looks no different, only now I have the sense that something is missing from it. Well, that’s new. I haven’t touched many other werewolves before. If only I could ask Pratt.

Stark wasn’t joking. When I open the door, he’s leaning against the one across from it. I don’t say a word as I walk past him. He follows me into the main room, and I relax more when I notice it’s empty. I am not ready for more socializing.