he leans in to kiss my lips. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me nothing.” The edge to his voice tells me I’ve used that line one time too many. I know I have, I’m guilty of lying to him more times than I can count.
I just can’t take this any longer. If I stay here, in his bed, I’ll never leave. My body acts as though on its own, twisting sideways, my feet hitting the cold wood floor, hands scrambling for my clothing. Sage reaches for me from behind, my wolf senses feeling him do it. I stand before he can touch me.
My belt rattles as I pull on my pants, my shirt whispering over my head. Sage stands, naked and perfect and so beautiful. I can’t look. I just can’t.
“Charlotte.” This time he’s angry, the smell of it pulsing in his blood, though he’s not really mad at me, just at my silence. And fear glosses through it, like he already knows we’re through and is as unwilling to admit it as I am. Has he felt me pulling away these last few visits? He’s not stupid, but he’s never mentioned it. “Talk to me for once. Please.”
“This was a mistake.” The soft hint of what remains of my Ukrainian accent wakes in my moment of distress. It happens so rarely it surprises me now. “I didn’t come here to sleep with you.”
Sage spreads his hands as I turn toward him, face grim, body tense. “How can you say we’re a mistake?”
I shiver. How easy to fall into his arms again, beg him to forgive my words, to forget and be with him and never go home. But my grandfather’s voice is in my head and, more importantly, Syd’s, reminding me I’m responsible no matter how that makes me feel.
“I came to say goodbye.” The words rush out from my lips, still haunted by my roots. Sage twitches, as though each one of them strikes him with pain. “I have to go home, Sage. We have to be through and I have to move on.”
His short, dark hair spikes as he runs both hands over his scalp. “All right,” he says. “Home it is. I’m coming with you.”
The very last words I expected from him and the most shocking. I stare while my wolf hums her confusion. “You can’t.” I certainly never expected him to offer.
“I’m ready to move on.” He jerks on his jeans, face calm and relaxed though it is simple to feel and sense the tension remaining in him while he tries to hide it from me. An ordinary woman would have missed it, thought him in control. But I know better. Knowing he tries so hard only makes leaving him more painful. “I’ve been here longer than anywhere I’ve ever lived.” He’s told me of his travels, his life as a vagabond, since leaving foster care when he was eighteen. He’s seen the world, ended up in Wilding Springs on a whim when a friend offered him a job. I know he has only remained here for me.
“So?” He finds a t-shirt, pulls open his closet door, back-pack landing on the bed so hard the springs squeak. “Give me a hand and I’ll be right behind you.”
Could we…? Can I have him and my duty, too? But no, the possibility dies as it needs to, as I shake my head, backing away, toward the door. “It can’t be.” I whisper the truth, more to myself than him. I have to mate with a were. Maybe, a few generations from now, it might be acceptable for the heir to the werenation to choose a normal for a mate. But not now, not while we are still building our own private world into the likeness we choose.
The pack will never accept him. And he will be in constant threat if anyone finds out the truth.
He must feel my moment of final choice, because he manages to grab me just as I’m turning to run out the door. “Charlotte,” my name is a plea. “Don’t leave me.”
I hesitate one last moment, meeting his gaze a final time, leaning in to press my lips to his. And then, I tear free and dash for the empty air, the quiet dark, doing my best not to sob my broken dreams into the uncaring night.
***
Chapter Eight
I run all the way to Syd’s, longing to shed my
I just can’t take this any longer. If I stay here, in his bed, I’ll never leave. My body acts as though on its own, twisting sideways, my feet hitting the cold wood floor, hands scrambling for my clothing. Sage reaches for me from behind, my wolf senses feeling him do it. I stand before he can touch me.
My belt rattles as I pull on my pants, my shirt whispering over my head. Sage stands, naked and perfect and so beautiful. I can’t look. I just can’t.
“Charlotte.” This time he’s angry, the smell of it pulsing in his blood, though he’s not really mad at me, just at my silence. And fear glosses through it, like he already knows we’re through and is as unwilling to admit it as I am. Has he felt me pulling away these last few visits? He’s not stupid, but he’s never mentioned it. “Talk to me for once. Please.”
“This was a mistake.” The soft hint of what remains of my Ukrainian accent wakes in my moment of distress. It happens so rarely it surprises me now. “I didn’t come here to sleep with you.”
Sage spreads his hands as I turn toward him, face grim, body tense. “How can you say we’re a mistake?”
I shiver. How easy to fall into his arms again, beg him to forgive my words, to forget and be with him and never go home. But my grandfather’s voice is in my head and, more importantly, Syd’s, reminding me I’m responsible no matter how that makes me feel.
“I came to say goodbye.” The words rush out from my lips, still haunted by my roots. Sage twitches, as though each one of them strikes him with pain. “I have to go home, Sage. We have to be through and I have to move on.”
His short, dark hair spikes as he runs both hands over his scalp. “All right,” he says. “Home it is. I’m coming with you.”
The very last words I expected from him and the most shocking. I stare while my wolf hums her confusion. “You can’t.” I certainly never expected him to offer.
“I’m ready to move on.” He jerks on his jeans, face calm and relaxed though it is simple to feel and sense the tension remaining in him while he tries to hide it from me. An ordinary woman would have missed it, thought him in control. But I know better. Knowing he tries so hard only makes leaving him more painful. “I’ve been here longer than anywhere I’ve ever lived.” He’s told me of his travels, his life as a vagabond, since leaving foster care when he was eighteen. He’s seen the world, ended up in Wilding Springs on a whim when a friend offered him a job. I know he has only remained here for me.
“So?” He finds a t-shirt, pulls open his closet door, back-pack landing on the bed so hard the springs squeak. “Give me a hand and I’ll be right behind you.”
Could we…? Can I have him and my duty, too? But no, the possibility dies as it needs to, as I shake my head, backing away, toward the door. “It can’t be.” I whisper the truth, more to myself than him. I have to mate with a were. Maybe, a few generations from now, it might be acceptable for the heir to the werenation to choose a normal for a mate. But not now, not while we are still building our own private world into the likeness we choose.
The pack will never accept him. And he will be in constant threat if anyone finds out the truth.
He must feel my moment of final choice, because he manages to grab me just as I’m turning to run out the door. “Charlotte,” my name is a plea. “Don’t leave me.”
I hesitate one last moment, meeting his gaze a final time, leaning in to press my lips to his. And then, I tear free and dash for the empty air, the quiet dark, doing my best not to sob my broken dreams into the uncaring night.
***
Chapter Eight
I run all the way to Syd’s, longing to shed my
Similar Books
Undercover Daddy
Delores Fossen
Beyond the Sea Mist
Mary Gillgannon
Jealous Lover
Brandi Michaels
Obstruction of Justice
Perri O'Shaughnessy
Dog Days of Summer
P. J. Fiala
Alien Tongues
M.L. Janes
It Can't Happen Here
Sinclair Lewis
Conan and the Shaman's Curse
Sean A. Moore
