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A dark and woodsy scent—his distinctly masculine smell—surrounds me, and I melt against him. “I missed you too.”
“It’s dangerous for a tender morsel such as yourself to be wandering alone in the woods, you know,” he teases.
I push just away enough to look up at him, narrowing my eyes. I am perfectly capable of defending myself. “And just why might that be?”
“Because a big, bad wolf might be tempted to hunt you.” He grins, flashing two rows of sharp, white fangs.
“Is that so?” A soft laugh escapes me, and I arch a teasing brow. “Well, he’d have to catch me then, first, wouldn’t he?”
Before he can answer, I push at his chest and spin back toward the forest, running as fast as I can.
He’s on me in less than three minutes. A small yelp leaves my mouth as his strong arms wrap around my waist, and he bears me to the ground. My heart pounds, not from fear, but from intense longing as he pins me in place.
His body is a solid wall of muscle along my back. He nudges my head to one side with his jaw and a warm puff of air hits my neck as he scents me again.
“I caught you.” His voice is smooth and deep in my ear. A low growl rumbles in his chest, and the vibrations move through my form, sending a pulse of heat straight to my core. “Do you yield to me?”
I twist onto my back and grin up at him. “Never.”
Even as the word leaves my mouth, I know it is a lie. Surrendering to him like this has been the subject of many daydreams and fantasies since I turned sixteen.
His pupils are blown wide so that only a thin rim of green is barely visible along the edges as he stares down at me with an almost predatory gaze.
This is new. Only a handful of times over the past year has he looked at me in this way. I wonder if it is his wolf instinct, triggered by catching his prey, or if it is a sign of interest. I can never tell.
But there is no question that right now I am his prey and he is a predator. Every part of him speaks of raw power and primal strength, and yet… he is always so careful and gentle with me that I could never be afraid of him.
My heart hammers as his gaze holds mine intently. Heat radiates from his body to mine, and my gaze drops to his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
Although I know that I am human and he is a Wolf-Shifter, I cannot help but wish we were the same. Because if we were, perhaps we could be more to each other than we are now, instead of always walking the fine line between friendship and something… more.
“Why were you out here?” he asks. The soft mint of his breath fans across my skin. “It is dangerous for you to be in the forest alone at night.”
“I assume you received my letter,” I reply, trying to avoid answering the question.
Wolf-Shifters are good at sensing lies, and he will know if I make one up about why I was praying to the Moon Goddess. A smile tugs at my mouth because she works much faster than I thought. I prayed for her to send him to me instead of having him participate in the mating chase back in Winterhold.
When his older brother, Fredrik, casually mentioned last week that they were now old enough to participate, I was devastated. I could hardly bear the thought of Malak with someone else.
He nods. “I saw your prayer to the goddess,” he says, and I wince inwardly. “What did you ask for?”
When I do not answer right away, he leans in and scents my neck again. As a Wolf-Shifter, I know his kind can tell much about another’s emotions by their smell. Although, as I think about it, I’ve never seen him get as close to anyone else as he does to me. “Tell me.” He gently nudges his jaw against mine in an affectionate gesture.
Feeling bold, I cup his cheek, and he pulls back enough to meet my gaze. As he studies me, all my bravery disappears, and I bite my lower lip, unsure what to say. Tears sting my eyes as indecision wars within me.
If I tell him the truth, this moment could change everything between us. And if he does not feel for me as I do him, then I will have ruined our friendship, and I cannot bear the thought of losing him. I’d rather have him as my friend, than to not have him at all.
“Luna, what is it?” he asks, concern easily read in his features. He pulls me up to sitting. He leans against a nearby trunk and settles me across his lap. All of this: his touch, the way he looks at me, holds me, and cups my cheek to turn my face to his… it’s all so familiar and easy between us. I’ve known him so long, and I do not want to risk—
“I overheard your father telling you to stay away from me,” he says. “Is it something to do with that?”
I shake my head softly because it’s so much more than just the conversation with my father. I’m in love with Malak, and I’m so afraid to tell him. I don’t think I could bear it if he does not return my feelings.
“Has someone hurt you? Were you praying for vengeance?” A deep growl rises in his throat, and I force myself not to roll my eyes. Of course he would think this. He once told me that vengeance is one of the most common reasons for praying to the goddess of the Moon. “If someone has harmed you, I will end them,” he says darkly. “I will rip their head from their—”
“No one hurt me.”
“Then, what is it?” he presses.
