chapter 34

I don’t pull into the narrow road which leads to the pack farmhouse until nearly eight-thirty, which is later, much later than I thought my errand would take me to run.

But I wasn’t expecting Fisher’s dad, Mart, who has another strange name I’ve never heard before, to come back not only with a large box full of pastries but also three coffees and muffins.

He assumed I hadn’t had breakfast yet for me to be up and about so early, and asked if I wanted to stop in at the shop for a few minutes so we could eat it together.

I had to pretend I’d dropped something to hide my eyes filling with tears because no one’s ever thought to include me like that before, not ever.

And even though I knew I should head back, I didn’t hesitate about saying yes.

Since Fisher had left the chilled and frozen food boxes until last so nothing would spoil, we left it there and went to sit in the back of the shop and ate breakfast together.

I’ve never laughed so much in my life, and even now my face is still sore from all the ridiculous stories Mart and Fisher told me about all the things that have ever gone wrong in the shop.

Even though they must have been curious about who I am and why I’ve moved here with Dayne, neither of them asked, and I appreciated it.

Already I’m looking forward to next Friday since they both want me to go back and have breakfast with them again before I pick up the groceries.

That makes three now.

I’m grinning like an idiot as I bump along the road, unable to wipe the no doubt ridiculous smile off my face.

I have three friends in the world, maybe four if I count Jenna, and having come from none a month ago, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Until I pass the last of the trees and I’m within sight of the farmhouse.

Just like the first time I got here, the entire pack is outside staring in my direction. And by the entire pack, I mean everyone.

Even Dayne, who does not look happy to see me. Immediately, I stalled the car.

No matter how many times I fight to get it to start up again, I can’t. Not with the way Dayne is staring at me. Not with the way my hands are shaking from the knowledge I’ve pissed him off, and I don’t know how he’s going to punish me.

Without warning, someone wrenches the drivers’ side door open. I gasp, and my eyes fly up to see who it is.

It’s Dayne. Of course, it’s him, and before I can even think of reacting, he’s unbuckled me from my seat and is jerking me out of the car.

I open my mouth to tell him about the food in the back of the truck, and the breakfast in the passenger seat, but even as I’m saying the first word, his gaze is locking on Luka who is fast approaching, looking anxious.

“Deal with this,” Dayne snaps at Luka.

He drags me along with such a tight grip on my upper arm, I have to jog to keep up with his ground-eating strides.

I pass the pack who deliberately turn away from me without a word. And then Dayne is dragging me up the porch steps when I hear the truck engine purring.

Darting a glance back, I see Luka behind the wheel, though his gaze is still on me and he looks even more worried than he did before.

Probably wondering if Dayne’s on his way to killing me. And he wouldn’t be alone in thinking about it, either.

But I don’t focus on him for too long. No, my attention is on Dayne who’s face is so utterly devoid of expression as he tows me through the house, up the stairs, and to our bedroom.

“Dayne, I’m sor ”

He slams the bedroom door shut so hard, I stop talking.

And when I glimpse into his eyes and see they’ve gone fully wolf, I panic. With his nostrils flared, and his lips curled in a snarl, he takes a step toward me.

It’s like he was just waiting for us to get to the bedroom before he let his fury out.

Now all my thoughts about feeling comforted by the wolf instead of the man are flying out the window.

Lowering my head, I start backing away as his fury triggers my fear.

But he’s not having any of it since his grip on my arm tightens and he jerks me toward the bathroom with enough force that I have no choice but to be towed along.

The bathroom door gets the same treatment as the bedroom, and the slam is hard enough to send bottles on a shelf beside the sink crashing to the floor.

Dayne doesn’t react at all, though I give the blue mouthwash spreading everywhere more than a passing glance.

Oh joy, something to look forward to cleaning if Dayne doesn’t kill me.

With one hand locked around my arm, he steps into the shower, turns it on, and then he backs out again.

I don’t have even a second to wonder what he’s doing, and what this is all about before he’s releasing me.

“Get in,” he snarls in such a rage-filled voice, it’s close to impossible for me to understand what he’s saying at first.

I glance down at my jeans and tank top.

The jeans are designer but they might be all right, the tank top on the other hand is a silky peach fabric which I can’t imagine would survive a shower. It looks like something more in need of drycleaning than anything else I’ve worn before.

Since Dayne doesn’t seem to be in a talking mood, I don’t even bother to speak. I put my hands on the hem of my top and tug.

“No,” Dayne snaps. “Get in. Now.”

I blink up at him, not understanding. “But my clothes, I don’t want ”

He leans into my face. “Get in the fucking shower before I fucking throw you in there,” he snarls in a voice not even close to being human.