Chapter 11
Only when the sole wolf I smelled was myself did my fur slough off my body. I laid the pelt down on the damp leaves and demanded: “Sit.”
It was as if fury fled along with my pelt. Luke’s laughter was warmer than the air around us. Especially when he ignored my order, leaning back against the smooth trunk of a beech tree and pulling me in closer. His skin slid up against my skin.
“I can’t believe you came.” His palms burned heat into my shoulders. “I thought you’d decided....” He shook his head. “You are the most beautiful wolf I’ve ever seen.”
I tilted my head back, breathing in his scent. I’d forgotten the depths beneath the cinnamon. The sharp bite of flint broken along a perfect crease in the rock’s internal structure. The faintest flicker of fire just beginning to singe.
