But she couldn’t. Not until she got her book back. It was the one thing that made her a little less a monster.
On shaking legs, Clara went to the desk for a pen and scribbled her own note on the back of the paper. Then with tears in her eyes, she ate the food he’d prepared for her.
The stew was hearty, the meat tender and the sauce, seasoned perfectly. The biscuits crumbled when she bit into them, the flavor of sharp cheese and garlic singing along her taste buds. It was the best meal she’d eaten in six years, made even better by the kindness behind the gesture. As long as she lived, she’d never forget this. She tucked the dessert in her backpack and carried the remaining hot chocolate out with her.
She walked right out the front door, not caring about the cameras or if her scent, which she hadn’t bothered to hide, gave her away. She was as good as caught anyway. If not by the authorities, then by the compassion shown to her by a perfect stranger she’d done wrong.
This time, it wasn’t her father’s sins she had to account for. It was her own. And the only way to do it, was to let this play out.
Fear was her shadow as she made her way back to the deep woods.
***
Eagan was up before the sun. The benefits of not being able to sleep. He’d tossed in his bed most of the night, his thoughts on the female. When it was finally close enough to sunup, he quickly showered and dressed. Locking up his cabin, he took his four wheeler through the dark and winding roads that separated the lodge from the cats’ homes.
Nobody was up yet, or if they were, they were being as quiet as he was.
In the lobby, he gave Count Dracula a knock on the noggin to wake him up.
“Muuu-ah-ah-ah. Velcome to my castle. Care for a bite?”
“Not today, man,” Eagan breathed in good humor.
His steps took him quickly to the kitchen. As soon as he was through the doors, his nose perked up. He stopped, inhaling deep to imprint the scent. His eyes fell closed and his muscles went limp, his jaguar reacting in a way he’d never experienced before.
Lavender and the green of the spruce trees. And something else. Woman. Hot, wild woman. His woman. His.
Eagan’s breath rushed in and out of his chest, making his nostrils flare. He stalked forward, eyes on the counter. There was nothing left of the food he’d intended for her and that settled his cat some. But on the counter was the piece of paper from her notebook. He lifted it to his nose, inhaling deep. She’d inadvertently left her scent there. Lotion perhaps. But for sure, she’d skipped the hunting attractant this time.
A sly smile curved his lips. Finally, her scent. He could track her now. And he would. Because she was his.
His mate.
He’d vowed to never search for her. He’d made the pact with his clan like everyone else. But she’d found him, and under the most unlikely circumstances. This was fate.
His grin faded as he lowered the paper.
He could track her… and so could anyone else. Magic for example. Or Gash. Right now, it was fine. Her scent would mingle with the other humans at the lodge, but if she returned… if her scent was discovered where items went missing…
Eagan’s eyes flew across the words she’d left him.
Please, I need my notebook back. If you return it, I swear I’ll never come back here again.
In theory, that was exactly what needed to happen. If she kept coming here, she’d be caught. But reality was a bitch, because Eagan couldn’t let her get lost in the woods, never to be seen again. He couldn’t go sleepless at night wondering if she was okay, if she had what she needed, if she was taking other people’s hard earned things. It was clear she regretted her actions. Was he supposed to let her keep doing them?
He frowned, his heart crashing against his ribcage.
He couldn’t have her. Magic would never allow it. But he needed to be sure she was safe and no longer homeless.
Bailey burst through the doors, and Eagan quickly shoved the note in his pocket.
“Oh, hey. Morning, boss.”
“Morning, Bailey.”
“You’re here early.”
“Yeah. Uh, busy day ahead, you know.” Eagan shrugged off his jacket and reached for his apron.
He was going to deal with his mate later, but for now, he had to go about his duties. Any deviation would catch Magic’s attention. And tonight was the long awaited kick-off of their weekly campfire stories. People would be coming in from the neighboring town of Weston to hear Gash tell spooky tales about the woods. All in preparation for Halloween week when they’d turn those woods into a haunted attraction for their guests. It was a short and sweet celebration, unlike their massive month-long Christmas one, and a much needed break from the preparations for it. Magic said they’d be all out of Christmas spirit if they didn’t have a break. Thus The Haunting at Lake Haven was born.