Last night, snow had fountained into the air, high above the trees, like an upside-down waterfall. Could werewolves do that? She would’ve loved to ask a million questions, but she had tried last night with Gentry, and though he’d looked sick about it the entire walk from Winter’s Edge to her cabin, he’d denied her answers.
“It’s safer for you if you don’t know,” he’d explained.
So, this was the type of relationship she could look forward to until she went home. A surface relationship where they both pretended they were the same kind of mammal and avoided all conversations about anything serious or important. Sex with Gentry had been mind-blowing, beautiful, and so satisfying, but a big part of her wanted more with him than just a physical connection. She wanted him to trust her, and she really wanted to trust him, too.
It was stormy out and snowing once again. Thick flurries drifted down, piling onto her windshield, so she turned on the wipers and squinted up at the churning gray clouds. She wouldn’t see sunshine today.
She glanced at the book cover again and shook her head. Werewolves existed. So much made sense now. The way he’d seemed so serious when he’d asked if she read paranormal romance. How he’d asked her to trust him and not call the cops. How he’d dragged that dead turkey off her porch. He’d canceled breakfast due to no sleep. Was that because he’d been the wolf that night?
Someone like you. How many times had she heard that since she’d come to Rangeley? And not just from Gentry, but from the man she’d asked directions from that first day. Perhaps he was a werewolf, too. Maybe everyone in this town was but her.
That was an unsettling thought.
Blaire coasted around a bend, but when she saw the massive gray wolf sitting in the middle of the snowy road, she gasped and locked up the brakes. The car skidded sideways on the slick straightaway, but came to a rocking stop before she slid into the animal.
Green eyes. That was the first thing she noticed. They were bright and the exact shade Gentry’s had been last night. He was huge, much bigger than she imagined wild wolves to be. Even sitting, he was as tall as the top of her window. He had a big barrel chest, and his fur was dark gray with a touch of lighter gray mottled throughout. He had darker points and a black nose. His paws were huge, splayed against the snow and ice.
He was just watching her, but without warning, he tossed his head back and let off a long, haunting note. His breath froze in the air and looked like smoke rising above him.
It. Was. Beautiful. The sound and Gentry both.
She moved to open the door, but Gentry lowered his head and let the howl die in his throat, eyes flashing with warning. And then he stood, much taller than she’d realized, and padded gracefully to the trees that lined the road. He paused on the edge, his eyes looking bright surrounded by that storm-gray fur. His back was to her, but he stared at her over his shoulder.
She didn’t want to leave. This moment was profound. He’d let her see him, let her in. And everything in her screamed he wasn’t allowed to do this. Not with her. Not with a human. He was taking a huge risk because he cared deeply. About her. He cared.
She wanted to cry and laugh and cry some more with the realization because she was in this, too. She felt the same. If the roles were reversed, she would take risks to show him he mattered.
Gentry trotted into the woods with such an unnaturally smooth gait, she couldn’t take her gaze from him until he disappeared into the brush. He’d looked so powerful, so rugged, so dangerous, and so beautiful all at once. If she wasn’t staring right at the distinct wolf prints in the snow near her window, she would’ve tried to convince herself it hadn’t happened. How could it? Science said two species couldn’t occupy the same body. But maybe Gentry and his brothers were formed from magic instead, something she’d never believed in.
Her world had just been flipped upside down.
Blaire eased onto the gas and straightened out the car. She’d had these grand plans today to convince herself the supernatural hadn’t taken over this town. She was supposed to go out and meet people to convince herself all was normal around here. She’d planned on convincing herself that last night had happened differently than it did, but Gentry had taken all the uncertainty away from her, as if he had known she needed physical proof of what he was. Of what dwelled inside of him.
Gentry was a werewolf, and there was no more questioning back and forth. There was no more black and white anymore. Gentry and his brothers were the gray area that didn’t make scientific sense in this world, but that existed anyway.
She, Blaire Annalee Hayward, had fallen in love with a werewolf.