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We both try to talk at the same time.
“What the hell was that?” Dominic says, his voice low and eyes narrowed. He moves back toward me, stopping just out of reach, as if he’s worried I’m going to do it again.
I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I shrug helplessly—because just like out there with that red wolf, I have no idea what just happened or how. I clearly have no control over it. I carefully wrap my arms around myself, assuming a protective position as Dominic continues to stare at me like he’s seeing me for the first time all over again.
“I…” Words seem to fail him for a moment. “Fuck. We need to talk. There’s something I should tell you.” He reaches out and grabs me carefully by the elbow, guiding me across the second floor instead of to the next set of steps.
“Where are we going?” I ask, looking longingly toward the nearest set of windows.
“I promise I’ll still get you some outdoor time. We just need a minute of privacy first.” He sounds like he’s gritting his teeth. I’m not sure that bodes well for me, but I let him drag me along because I’m curious. What could he possibly have to tell me that suddenly can’t wait?
Dominic pulls me into a small library and closes the door behind us. I trail away from him, my eyes widening as I take in the collection of leather-bound books. I know this can’t be the regular pack library because the room feels relatively untouched.
I glance back at him questioningly.
“Ancient shifter texts passed on through generations from packs we’ve absorbed into our own over the years. This library isn’t technically off limits, but most people don’t have the patience for the ancient texts. There are a lot of faded pages, and a lot of them are in dead languages.”
“Wow.” I stop myself just short of running my hands over the spines.
“It’s okay, you can touch them,” Dominic says, eyeing my outstretched hand.
I’m still careful as I let my fingertips graze the spines of books unlike anything I’ve ever seen in a pack house. Neither pack I’ve belonged to was old enough to have anything like this on hand. This is really incredible, and I can’t help but wonder if Tasha knows about this room yet. My sister would probably cry tears of joy to get her hands on some of this stuff.
“What did you need to tell me?” I ask idly as I loop the small space. There are two armchairs in the center of the room, so I drop into one as I wait for Dominic to answer.
He’s slow to speak. “I spoke to the shifter you said tried to attack you.”
“Why are you saying that as if you think I lied?” I eye him as he sits in the other chair, his body language stiff and uncomfortable. I didn’t make up a single thing about what happened—if anything, I had to go light on the details because time was of the essence!
“I don’t think you lied; I think you might have misjudged the situation.” He grimaces. “That wolf—Maren—she made you sound special. Like it was more than just coming from a long line of other shifters. She referred to you very specifically as a warrior.” He shakes his head. “I thought that sounded a little ridiculous, but…”
“But I shouldn’t be strong enough to shove you like that?” I finish for him quietly, wincing as I replay that scene in my mind again. It was like my strength grew tenfold when I shoved him.
Still, the wordwarriorfeels foreign and not at all like a word someone would use to describe me.
“Tasha said you were reading about the fates when I was in my pseudo coma,” I suddenly remember. “Did you find anything?”
“Nothing useful.” He blows out a long breath. “But I wasn’t exactly focused on what I was looking at. I’m pretty sure your sister only kept sending me back to the pack library because I was stressing her and the doctor out with my hovering.”
It’s weird to picture this big, tough man hovering over me in a hospital bed. Then again, as overprotective and possessive as he is, it’s actually not that much of a surprise. I know he’s telling the truth, because I saw for myself that Tasha didn’t want him underfoot at the pack clinic.
“So there was a wolf stalking me because she thinks I’m some kind of shifter warrior? That sounds like the plot of a bad movie. Are you sure she wasn’t just making something up? Rogues aren’t exactly known for their honesty.”
He leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “No, but even though I don’t know where that wolf came from, I know she’s no rogue.”
A weird pang of jealousy hits me. It’s something that I have no business feeling. And suddenly all I can picture is that shifter—Maren, apparently—standing on Dominic’s balcony. Him looking at her with that same protective gaze that made me feel all kinds of funny.
And, okay, it’s weird because I’m just picturing her in wolf form, but it still makes me feel nauseous to imagine.
I’m too antsy to keep sitting, so I stand and stroll as far away from Dominic as I can in the small room. I train my eyes on the books, aimlessly looking at the titles—most of which I can’t actually read.
My eyes skim over something at the top of the nearest shelf before I double-take.
“Dominic?”
He’s by my side in an instant.
I point up, not letting my eyes leave the book for fear I won’t be able to pick it out again. “Can you get that for me?”
