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He dropped his pants, and my wolf apparently decided not to waste any more time.
She reached up to his forearm, and bit him.
He blinked down at his arm, and then at her as she pulled away. She only took the time to give him a wolfy grin, before sprinting into the forest.
A booming laugh followed her, and if I’d been in human form, I’d have been grinning.
She only ran faster, though.
Trees and branches flew past, and rocks skimmed her paws as she leapt over them, never so much as slowing.
I didn’t know if adrenaline was rushing through her, but it sure as hell was rushing through me.
She had always been fast, but now, as she tested her mate, she moved like a damned ghost through the forest.
The sound of paws on the dirt and grass behind her eventually hit her ears, though.
She pushed harder, ran even faster.
But Elliot’s wolf still caught up to her. He didn’t run behind her, or try to slow her, or stop her. He didn’t run ahead of her, in an attempt to cut her off. He simply ran at her side, showing her that he was there, and he’d found her.
His chest was heaving, his gray fur pulled tight against him by the wind.
And my wolf skidded to a stop, suddenly.
For the first time in so damn long, I felt a tingle run down my spine.
The tingle turned into a crack, and I could’ve groaned in relief as my body began to shift back.
Finally, freedom.
I landed on my hands and knees on the forest floor. There were sticks and rocks beneath my palms and legs, but I was panting too hard to notice them.
And shit, I was tired.
So damn tired.
Hunting male wolves didn’t sleep, and the same was true for females, which left me damned exhausted.
My body swayed a bit.
Elliot’s wolf nuzzled my face. I would’ve scratched his fur, but the exhaustion…
He caught me before I crashed to the ground, ducking his head below my arms so that I landed draped over his soft fur. He was warm, and careful, as he waited for my breathing to slow.
“I’m so tired,” I mumbled to him, fighting to stay awake.
The middle of the forest was not the place to fall asleep for a week, or however long it would take me to recover from the month my wolf had spent hunting Elliot.
His wolf eased me to the ground, and leaned over me. He licked my face, and then my neck. My eyes were closed, but I was pretty sure I knew what he wanted.
“You can bite me,” I murmured to him.
That was all the permission he needed.
Sharp teeth sank into my arm, in the same place my wolf had bitten Elliot. There was no numbing venom this time—I’d already been changed by SD.
But like all other pain since I’d become a werewolf, it faded rapidly as my body healed.
