Into the Pines
820 Words
Chapter 15: Into the Pines
Sutton walked quietly beside Misty, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his strides slower than usual. There was no swagger in his step, no confident tilt to his shoulders. For once, he looked uncertain. Human.
They walked through the eastern courtyard, the wind rustling through the old oak trees, mist curling low around the ground. Neither of them spoke for a long time. Misty didn’t know what she expected when she agreed to walk with him. She had prepared herself for more excuses, more charm, more pressure. But Sutton was strangely quiet.
Finally, he stopped by the fountain and looked at her, eyes dark with something she almost mistook for sincerity.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Just that. Two words. No sarcasm. No defensiveness.
Misty stared at him. “For what, exactly?”
“For the restaurant. For Alicia. For making you feel like you weren’t enough.”
Her breath caught. She hadn’t expected that either.
“I was angry,” he said. “And jealous. And stupid. And I didn’t want to admit that you were the best thing that ever happened to me. Because if I did, I’d have to admit I didn’t deserve you.”
She didn’t know what to say. He had said the exact thing she had always hoped he would.
“I want to be better,” he added. “Not just for you. For me. But I need time. And maybe another chance. Just one.”
There was a long pause. Misty’s heart thudded in her chest.
She had always wanted this moment. And now that it was here, it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, unsure whether the leap would be flight or fall.
“Okay,” she said softly. “But I’m not ready for everything. I’m still figuring myself out too.”
Sutton nodded, stepping closer, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I can wait.”
He kissed her cheek. Gentle. Measured. Nothing like the desperate hunger of before.
And somehow, that hurt more.
After they said goodbye, Misty walked away slowly, her thoughts a mess of memories and possibilities. She needed to run. Not away. Just run. To clear her head.
She made it to the edge of the forest and shifted, her silver wolf emerging with a quiet shimmer beneath the moonlight. Gina stretched her limbs, shook out her fur, and took off through the trees.
It felt good. The wind in her fur. The earth under her paws. No words. No choices. Just instinct.
She ran until her breath came fast and the world blurred around her. That was when she smelled him.
Pine. Rain. Musk. Power.
The gray wolf stepped from behind a thicket, his coat darker than silver, his eyes glinting like storm clouds in moonlight.
Gina slowed, surprised. She had never seen him before, but her instincts reacted like she had known him forever.
The gray wolf didn’t growl. He didn’t posture. He simply stood there, watching her.
Then he wagged his tail once.
She blinked. Then playfully lowered herself into a crouch, tail swaying.
He took the invitation and bolted.
She chased him. They weaved through trees, jumped over fallen logs, leapt across a creek. When he slowed, she pounced, nipping at his shoulder. He twisted around, playful, bumping into her side with a huff of warm breath.
They circled, danced, tangled in a silent flirtation that made Gina’s heart race in a way Misty hadn’t felt in years.
The gray wolf was fast. Smart. Teasing. He darted just out of reach, only to come back and brush against her fur. At one point, he pinned her gently, holding her down with just enough pressure to make her breath hitch, then released her just as quickly.
She responded by tackling him fully into a pile of leaves, the two of them rolling together until she landed on top. He stared up at her, eyes glowing with quiet amusement.
She leaned forward and nuzzled his neck. He let out a soft rumble that made her tail wag.
They lay there for a moment, side by side beneath the stars, not touching but close enough to feel the warmth of each other.
Then suddenly, the gray wolf stood.
She looked up, confused. He met her eyes for a long heartbeat, then turned and ran into the trees.
Gina jumped to her paws and chased, but by the time she reached the clearing, he was gone.
No scent. No trail. Like he had vanished into thin air.
She stood alone in the silence, heart thudding.
Misty shifted back sometime later, her clothes hidden in a bag near the old fire circle. She pulled on a sweatshirt, hands still trembling.
Who was he?
She had never felt a connection like that. Not with Sutton. Not with anyone.
And she didn’t even know his name.
- Writer
