Chapter 8: Time to go home

Elera:

It was a dream.

That was the first thought Elara had when she woke up, her heart still pounding from sleep. Just a very, very vivid stress-induced hallucination brought on by grief and exhaustion and driving for six hours through mountains that apparently didn't exist on any map.

Werewolves weren't real.

Mate bonds weren't real.

And three impossibly attractive men hadn't shown up in her backyard last night claiming she belonged to them.

It didn't happen.

Elara sat up slowly, her body aching from sleeping on the couch, she hadn't been able to make herself go to the bedroom, some irrational part of her afraid that if she let her guard down completely, the "dream" would become real.

The cottage was silent.

No sounds of breathing. No footsteps. No massive wolves prowling outside her windows.

Just... silence.

She stood on shaky legs and moved through the cottage, checking each room. The kitchen was empty. The bedroom was exactly as she'd left it. The bathroom window was closed and locked.

Nothing.

See? she told herself firmly. Dream. Hallucination. Stress. You're fine.

She moved to the living room window and peered outside, half-expecting to see glowing eyes staring back at her from the tree line.

But there was nothing. Just the forest in the early morning light, peaceful and still.

Elara let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

A dream. It was just a dream.

She was fine. Everything was fine. She'd just been under a lot of stress....losing Grandma, inheriting this place, driving all this way alone. Her mind had played tricks on her. That was all.

Time to go home.

The decision crystallized in her mind with perfect clarity. She'd pack her bag, get in her car, and drive straight back to the city. She'd call the lawyer from the road and tell him to sell the cottage—she didn't care about the money, didn't care about any of it. She just needed to get away from this place.

Elara practically ran to the bedroom, grabbed her still-packed duffel bag, and snatched her car keys from the dresser. Her hands were shaking, but she forced herself to move quickly, efficiently.

Don't think. Just go.

She hurried to the front door and paused with her hand on the lock.

What if it wasn't a dream?

What if they were out there, waiting?

Don't be ridiculous, she scolded herself. Werewolves. Aren't. Real.

She unlocked the door as quietly as she could and eased it open.

The morning air was cold and crisp, smelling of pine and dew. The gravel driveway was empty. Her car sat exactly where she'd parked it yesterday, looking wonderfully normal and ordinary and safe.

Elara stepped outside, her eyes scanning the tree line.

Nothing.

No movement. No glowing eyes. No massive shapes lurking in the shadows.

Just trees.

She took a deep breath and ran.

Her feet crunched on the gravel as she sprinted to her car, fumbling with her keys, her heart hammering so hard she could hear it in her ears. She yanked open the driver's door, threw her bag in the passenger seat, and slid behind the wheel.

The engine turned over on the first try.

Elara nearly sobbed with relief.

She threw the car into reverse, backed out of the driveway with jerky, too-fast movements, then shifted into drive and hit the gas.

The cottage disappeared behind her as she sped down the narrow road, trees blurring past on either side. She didn't slow down. Didn't look back. Just kept her foot on the accelerator and her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Almost there. Almost out. Just get to the main highway and you're free....

The town appeared ahead of her, those same charming stone buildings that had looked so wrong yesterday. But she didn't care about wrong. She just cared about getting through it.

She glanced in the rearview mirror, checking behind her one more time.

Nothing. No one following.

See? Dream. All a dream.

She faced forward again....

And slammed on the brakes.

The car screeched to a halt so violently that her seatbelt locked across her chest, her head nearly smashing into the steering wheel. Her bag flew off the passenger seat and hit the floor with a thud.

Because there, standing in the middle of the road like he had all the time in the world, was him.

Kieran.

The youngest one. The one who'd shifted first. The one who'd laughed at her dog training book and then held her against his naked chest and told her she was theirs.

He wasn't a dream.

He was standing twenty feet in front of her car, wearing the same worn jeans from last night and nothing else, his dark hair messy and his amber eyes locked on her through the windshield.

Staring at her like a predator that had just cornered its prey.

Elara's hands tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles going white.

No. No no no no—

She pressed on the horn.

The sound blared through the quiet morning, sharp and demanding. Move. Get out of the way.

Kieran didn't move.

He just stood there, head tilted slightly to one side, a small smile playing at his lips.

Elara pressed the horn again. Longer this time. MOVE.

Still nothing.

And then...gods help her....he started walking toward her.

Slowly. Deliberately. Like he had all the time in the world and knew she wasn't going anywhere.

Elara's breath came in short, panicked gasps. Her foot hovered over the accelerator. She could floor it. Could try to swerve around him. Could....

He reached the hood of her car and kept coming, his hand trailing along the metal as he walked around to the driver's side.

And then he was there, right outside her window, bending down to look at her through the glass.

Elara couldn't breathe.

He knocked on the window. Three sharp raps.

Don't open it. Don't you dare....

But her traitorous hand was already moving to the window control, lowering it with a soft electronic whir.

Kieran's smile widened.

Elara forced her voice to sound calm. Professional. Like she was talking to a stranger and not a werewolf who'd held her in his arms less than twelve hours ago.

"May I help you?" she said, and was proud that her voice only shook a little.

Kieran's amber eyes danced with amusement. "I didn't know I was that forgettable."

"I don't know what you mean." Elara lifted her chin, channeling every ounce of false confidence she could muster. "If you'll excuse me, I have to be on my way."

She reached for the window control again, intending to close it and drive around him if she had to.

Kieran's hand shot out and gripped the top of the window, holding it in place.

His smile never wavered. "Going somewhere, tesoro?"