Page 88 of Red

I glance from one to the other. “What is it?”

“Let’s just go before Stark kills Merik,” Kiya says.

“Um, yeah, okay?” I stand and head over to Merik. No wonder Jocko sounded so irritated with me earlier. Maybe Merik isn’t a good Alpha. He didn’t give me that type of energy, though.

Merik gives me a hug goodbye, and I swear I hear someone growl. He drops my arms and steps back. “Sorry, Aloka, you didn’t say.”

“I didn’t say what?”

He dismisses my question, turning his head toward the others. “Have a great next visit, and please, all of you, don’t hesitate to come by. We’ll see you in the next few weeks.” Merik squeezes my hands, then heads back into the house.

Once we’re back in the truck, Stark revs the engine and races down the road. We’re not supposed to be at the next cohort until tomorrow. I settle back into the seat and lift my legs up. Leaning against the door, I picture the beautiful painting in Merik’s office, and sadness wraps around me. It’s so far from my own reality.

A few hours later, the truck stops at the small entrance to a lake. Thick, washed-up ice chunks edge the shore. The water has near-smooth ripples in the moonlight, while shadows of ice still line the lake along the tree edge.

I stretch my limbs out. My body is on fire.

“Stark, you’ve got to let us put the AC on. Your truck is way too hot,” Jocko says, lifting his arms overhead.

“It’s fine, get over it,” he says, and walks over to the lake edge.

“Full moon run instead tonight?” Kiya asks.

Stark doesn’t turn around, though I can see his head nod. How did I forget there was a full moon? I guess my heads been so full of everything, and being hot around crowds was probable. I breathe in and let the flames flicker in my extremities. It’s not far away.

“You finally taking us up on a run?” Jocko stands next to me.

“No, I’ll just sleep in the truck while you all go.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“If she wants to be left here alone, leave her alone,” Stark snaps.

Jocko turns to face him. “Since when do you leave Aloka alone?”

Stark ignores his question, walking off toward the ice between the trees and water. I guess Kiya is right—it’s worse than I thought.

“You going to be okay?” Kiya asks.

I smile at her. “Oh yeah, I could use a break from everyone. No offense. I am used to spending time with myself.” They just need to leave.

“Well, start screaming if you change your mind. We won’t be so far away that we won’t hear you.”

I laugh, yet her face doesn’t change. “Thanks. You should all get going.” So I can come up with a plan.

“Come with us. Ignore Stark,” Jocko tries again.

I take a seat on a chunk of ice. “No, it’s good. You all need to run; I’ll be safe here.”

“Okay,” he says, and in seconds, he turns. His light-brown fur blows in the breeze from the lake. He nudges my arm before taking off, then Kiya joins, and Stark is gone from the lake before I get a chance to check.

I absorb the cold from the ice chunk below me, but soon, the water starts to drip off it to the ground. Stark didn’t say goodbye and Kiya is right—he isn’t himself; it must be something else. He talked to me after we kissed. I prevented him from making a life-altering mistake—which is so strange, because who cheats once mated? I didn’t know it was physically possible. The way others talk, the pull toward each other is so strong once you accept it. The spirits continue to mess with me, because the pull to my mate must be insane if it’s anything in comparison to what I feel for him. I can spot him in the crowded room of werewolves filled with different scents. I know when he’s looking at me or not, and lately it’s been on the not side. Those blue eyes never hold my gaze for more than a second.

As my temperature rises, the moon aligns, and I stop fighting the heat. Magic pumps through and I let it turning into my red self. Standing at the end of the lake, the ice underneath my paw breaks under my weight. I step carefully over to the water. I can’t leave prints. The water flows at my ankles.

Pratt would tell me not to risk it.

But they won’t be back for at least an hour; I’ll be safe and turn in half that. This is the longest I’ll get to be me in months.