AllFreeNovel
Share Us
In theory, this pack should exist to protect and guide me. In reality, I feel like every step I’ve made has been navigating a minefield that I’m ill-equipped for. I grew up around tension; the North Summit Pack wasn’t exactly a warm and fuzzy place to grow up as a Jarreau. But even that had nothing on the tension I’ve felt here.
If anything else in my life gave me hope of fulfillment, I wouldn’t be here. This is definitively not the place I would have chosen to grieve in.
The only thing I’m thinking of as I reach the garden is Jimmy. Memories flicker through my mind. Moving to live with him and his pack. The kind way he handled my heartbroken eighteen-year-old sister showing up. His kindness was everything, really. Jimmy always made me want to be better too.
That dark shadow my parents cast over my childhood, Jimmy never judged me for it. He taught me to be better than them. To be kind and forgiving and to find comfort in the stability they never gave me.
I’m distracted thinking about all the things I miss about my mate. Maybe that’s how I miss the massive man waiting for me as I stumble over the dirt at the edge of the garden I’ve been tending.
“You can’t be here,” I somehow manage to choke out, my heart racing.
My breath catches as he turns toward me. I didn’t get as good of a look at him last time.
His mouth is set in a flat line, but it doesn’t hide his full lips. His almond-shaped eyes are black, made all the more threatening with the way his sculpted jaw seems to be set in a hard line. Short black hair covers his head and jaw, making him look almost militant. My eyes drop to take in the rest of him.
He’s tattooed. I can’t remember ever seeing a shifter tattooed like this before. Not just a small one either, but a whole load of black ink peeks out against his dark skin from the sleeves of his t-shirt.
Considering what the rest of him looks like, I’m surprised his plain shirt and dark jeans look so neat and unassuming. Everything else about him screams danger.
“Tasha.” His voice comes out barely above a whisper.
The overly familiar way he says my name sends me reeling back a step. I wasn’t comfortable with him when he stood on the other side of the property line. I’m sure as hell not comfortable with him now that he’s decided to cross it.
“What do you want?” My voice isn’t much louder than his.
His eyes drop to stare at my bare feet as I retreat another step. I haven’t been bothering with shoes here; I like the feel of my toes sinking into the grass. It makes me feel one with nature and grounds me.
“I’m wooing you.” He grunts, and I jerk my chin higher and narrow my eyes at him.
“You’re the one sending me the creepy gifts?” Of course he is. I haven’t even taken my place in the Luna Sovereign house, and I’ve already managed to land myself some kind of shifter stalker. It’s absurd.
“Creepy?” His well-defined jaw drops slightly. “It’s not fucking creepy. It’s thoughtful.”
This guy is clearly unhinged. I take another couple steps back. Surely Lydia should be right behind me? How long does it really take to put some flowers in a vase? Though, now I’m thinking maybe we should trash the flowers just to be safe.
“I sent you flowers and chocolate. Something personal. Something cutesy. I covered all my bases because I wasn’t sure which kind of gift you preferred.” He grows increasingly agitated as he talks, stepping forward to erase the distance I added between us.
“Okay, thank you.” I try to force a pleasant tone. I’m pretty sure I heard once to never argue with a crazy person. “It was very… thoughtful. I have to go make some calls now, someone is waiting for me at the pack house.”
I keep my eyes on him as I take several more steps backward. I’m too nervous to turn my back on him. I don’t know what this shifter is planning or what he’s capable of.
“Stop.” A growl practically tears out of his throat.
I freeze, my hands shaking slightly until I clasp them together to steady myself. As Luna Sovereign, I need to be more composed. Fake it until you make it, I guess.
“You don’t like my gifts.” It’s not a question. His mouth forms a flat line that gives away his displeasure. He’s apparently sane enough to tell he’s making me nervous. He turns and paces a few steps further away, giving me more space, before facing me again.
“The gifts were creepy,” I tell him again. Maybe honesty is the best policy. He could easily outrun me if he wanted, but he seems like he’s trying to seem nonthreatening. Or at least as nonthreatening as a male over six-foot tall with muscles for days can hope to be.
“They weren’t supposed to be.” He drops his eyes to the ground and shakes his head, muttering to himself too low for me to hear. He seems genuinely upset that I haven’t enjoyed his gifts.
A twinge of something plucks at my heart. Guilt. It has to be guilt. I’m not used to hurting anyone’s feelings. Not even a big guy with tattoos and eyes so dark I think they might actually be black.
“I’m running out of options, Tasha.” A hint of anger flashes through his eyes as his hands form fists by his sides. It throws me off kilter to see his mood change so quickly.
His words suck all the air out of my lungs.
I was right the first time. This shifter is creepy and dangerous and clearly has some kind of expectation about how these little meetings are supposed to go.
