What would you do if you were the only one of your kind left in the world? Would you hide at home and blend in with humans? Becca is determined to find other survivors like her, even though she knows that werewolves have been wiped out. After years of searching, she finally finds Jason, who is thrilled to meet another werewolf but thinks the idea of finding others or his mate is laughable. However, Becca convinces him to go on a journey with her, and they soon face unexpected challenges. Will they be able to find a pack and a peaceful home? Will the two strangers become friends, or their attraction is too strong to deny? And what if they find their mates at the end of their journey?
더 보기Becca When Jason requested separate rooms at the Inn yesterday evening, I had difficulty covering the hurt on my face. Judging by the receptionist’s expression, I failed completely. At least my room for the night was warm and cozy, with hot water in the shower. It had everything a girl would need, right? Well, the only missing piece was a man to curl around me… And not just any man. Sleeping without Jason’s arm tucked at my waist left me tossing and turning all night. I swear the rhythm of his heartbeat has been engraved in my soul, and now I need it to stay sane. His scent still lingers on some of my clothes, although I refused to bring any of them into bed with me. As the morning sun peeks through the curtains, I stare at the ceiling, listening for any sounds coming from his room. He must still be sleeping. Without the worry lines on his forehead or the tension in his shoulders. Calm and relaxed. And probably naked. Is his morning excitement matching mine? A breathy sigh leaves m
Becca “I’m sorry, Baby,” Jason says again. “Do you have any idea how to get back to the track or the cliff?” I ask. My voice is breaking with a cry, bringing on the human girl mad at her boyfriend. I twirl, gesturing with my hands around us. “Ummm…” “It’s only trees everywhere. The same fucking trees,” I yell again and put in another wallowing cry. “I think that way,” Jason points in a seemingly random direction, but I know it would take us back to the parking lot. “Good,” and without another word, I continue that way, with Jason catching up to me and apologizing again on the way. We drink and eat on the way, stating loudly how hungry we are and how much better the picnic on the top was yesterday. I’m confident in our act, as we stop 30 minutes later to have the same ‘we are lost’ discussion accompanied by my next crying session. Jason plays his part well, cuddling me and acting convinced that he’ll get the right direction this time. We head for the track that takes us to the
JasonIt took us more than an hour to find a way to climb up behind the rocks. Once we got there, there was nothing to grab or hold on to. Despite our wolf vision, we couldn’t see anything but the moon-illuminated wolf craving. We climbed separately to search through everything, and finally, Becca located a tiny, rolled-up paper wedged between two rocks.If you’re looking for usMake sure to use your sensesFollow the direction of the MoonTo where the Goddess has her Temple“What do you think it means?” Becca looks up at me, her intelligent eyes narrowed in focus. Wrinkles appear under them, but not on the outer lines like smile wrinkles. Instead, they are in the middle around her nose, only showing up when she is focused or determined to fix or solve something. And for a moment, I stare at her, realizing how addicted I have become to reading her expressions.Each time her eyes twinkle with mischief, my heart rate plummets. Each time she talks about her family, they shine like diamon
BeccaMy hands are half healed, but the raw, fresh skin is still too delicate to be used. It needs foaming and bandages for protection.‘If you don’t use it, I’ll heal it in a day,’ Bliss informs me happily.‘We need your strength for the run and the challenge. You can heal me after,’ I reply, and I am glad when she agrees.‘After,’ she says, and joy bubbles in my heart. We are here and ready to face the first challenge.I wear training gloves over the bandages to hide them, hoping they’ll only look at Jason’s hand.We are ready when Elaine gives up her watch and enters the packhouse, but we stand still and wait three more minutes before leaving the bungalow. We settle down to have a quick breakfast in front of the packhouse for the show. It’s better if they see us before we leave. We are up early because we slept through the night like humans. That is what we want them to believe. Lastly, we leave a note for Brock to let him know that we went hiking early and pretend we didn’t see on
BeccaI wake up hours later in the bed, tucked close to Jason, with my hands resting covered in the healing foam. He must’ve carried me to bed, as I’m still fully dressed. I look back at him, and his droopy eyes blink.“Hey,” he croaks.“Thanks.” I turn to my back, keeping my hands over the covers. His arm slips back from my waist, and I instantly regret the move.“Of course,” he replies with a slow smile.“You can sleep. I’m fine and can take over the watch.” I whisper, glancing from the ceiling back to him.“Are you sure?” Jason lifts his head, assessing me.“Yeah. You need to sleep, too. I’ll wake you so we can leave at sunrise.”He slowly nods and turns on his front, his hand under his pillow. Within a few minutes, his light snores tell me he is fast asleep. No surprise there. He didn’t sleep yesterday.No matter where I look, I can’t tell the time. I sigh, cursing myself. I should’ve asked Jason. And for my phone, too. The idea of getting out of bed flies out of my head as quickl
Becca Yesterday, we used our own utensils and ate our own food to avoid the situation we are currently in. To avoid anything they could use against us. I cannot phantom how we missed it today. But I guess we were both too tired and too focused on watching their moves; we didn’t see the hidden intention behind the dinner. The embarrassment of my stupidness colors my cheeks and makes my heart race. How will we get out of this situation? Ideas are popping up in my head, but I have to ditch all of them ‘cause they might make things even worse. The hopelessness of the situation freezes me. I keep my gaze and shoulders steady as I cut the meat and bring the first bite to my mouth. Carefully, though, not to let the fork touch my lips. I let out a moan of delight, complimenting the food, as I focus on steadying my voice. Jason follows my lead, and we quicken our eating. The sensitive skin on my left palm and finger bends is where it is the most painful, becoming a burn I can hardly take.
BeccaWe settle down at the table in the little clearing between the houses, slumping down to keep up the act of weak humans.After dropping my backpack on the ground, I take off my hiking boots, realizing happily that blood is on my socks again.“How are you two, Love Birds?” Brock asks, exiting the packhouse.I sigh heavily, showing how tired I am. “The cliff you sent us to was far harder to reach than you explained,” I reply accusingly.His laughter roars through the forest, scaring the birds away.I open my mouth in mock exaggeration. “You knew, and you sent us anyway?” I continue, and he continues with his laughter. I fold my arms over my chest, furrow my brows, and pout. “That wasn’t very nice of you. My toes are bleeding again.” I lift my leg to show him the bloodied sock.Brock comes closer. “You’ll live,” he shrugs, settling beside me. “Besides, I made dinner. That has to conciliate you.”I look over at the campfire and see that he is roasting something. It looks like the ham
BeccaWith my phone in my hand, I’m trying to balance on one tiptoe as I aim to capture a bird. It is perched high on a tree, obscured from my sight by several branches. Given that this is the third time we have left the track to take a picture, I’m determined to capture it this time.I’m not a photographer, though; I only use my phone, and I never thought how difficult it would be to photograph a bird. They usually fly away before I can take a proper picture of them.Just as when I click, Jason steps closer behind me, whispering. “I haven’t smelled Brock since we started on the track.”We climbed to the cliff and took pictures to prove we were there. As we descended, we sniffed around to find Brock, but he probably didn’t follow us there.I sigh exasperatedly as I check my phone, realizing I only caught the bird’s tail. A branch covers the rest. “Couldn’t you have waited another second for that? I almost got the picture.” I turn my phone to Jason angrily to show him my last failed a
Becca I shiver as I step through the door of the packhouse. Looking around on alert, I mentally scold myself for thinking about it as a packhouse. I have to make sure not to call it that in front of Brock. The inside looks reasonably clean and renovated. It is a two-story building, not much bigger than the other houses, but the difference is still significant. The polished wood creaks under my hiking boots as I wipe my sweaty palms on my loose t-shirt nervously. Brock proudly shows us around and points out the most important trophies on the wall, telling stories of how he caught and killed each. He likes to hunt; we get it. He has the entire living room to demonstrate it. Let’s hope only for animals and not the supernatural. ‘That ship has sailed,’ Bliss confirms, and I have to agree. He proved us right with that phone call. Not to mention how he sneaked into the house to go through our backpacks. Just the thought gives me shivers. ‘We are lucky to have Jason on our side,’ I tell
Becca We can’t be the only survivors.My boots pound down the long corridor, and I can only repeat it in my head. We can't be the only survivors.I run past the band posters on the walls, and doors on the left every so often, excitement bubbling up in me. My lips twitch into a smile but I smother it. I still can be wrong about this. This stadium is like most others, so it’s easy to find my way around, even though this is my first time here with my sound crew and a band I met two months ago. I’m in a city I’ve never been to before, and I run towards someone I don’t know, someone who claims to have found my lost cardigan at a Diner. The few hundred meters between the mixing console where I work to the back door where he is waiting are decreasing at a steady pace. I know I didn’t leave any cardigan anywhere because I don’t own any. I only wear hoodies or leather jackets. The person claiming to have my cardigan knows it’s a lie. I know it’s a lie too, but still, I’m running to me
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