Hunt Me! (I Crave The Chase) - Page 201

I reached into my pocket, fingers digging into my guitar pick for strength as I sucked in a breath.

“You gave me my brother back.” Theo nodded. “And for that, I’ll always be grateful.”

My eyes burned and I nodded, chest tight.

“So if you need help—you just ask me, okay? Or any of us. We’re pack. And pack is…”

“Is…?”

“Pack is a place to belong. And people to belong to.”

I’d never belonged anywhere.

Not really.

Always on the outside.

Always missing pieces.

Awkwardly shaped.

The silvery string that trailed from my heart kept reaching—reaching—reaching.

Because that was a lie.

That was a lie.

I had belonged somewhere.

And I realized that now.

Because Mutt’s arms were perfectly shaped, and the bow of my legs was perfectly sized to fit his hips. I belonged with him. I did.

And I only hoped I wasn’t too late to tell him.

I had not known true relief till the day I met Jeffrey. Like there had been something itching beneath my fur my entire life and I had never even known it was there. An uncomfortable ache that always burned. A thirst that couldn’t be quenched.

He was tall and muscular, dressed in a hoodie and jeans that clung to his form as he ducked through the rain and hurried into the gas station.

We’d been in Colorado then, only miles away from my home. I often wandered the woods for days, even weeks at a time. Though I returned home for the full moon like clockwork, well aware of the damage I could do. The full moon had been only a few nights previously so I was feeling achy and tired as I stared at the unfamiliar figure through the glass.

He talked to the gas station attendant. He smiled, he laughed. His fingers were long and dexterous and they flickered with a flurry of movement, punctuating everything he said. He was a vision, his hair like a flame on his head as he paid, then headed out into the rain again.

There was something about him that called to me.

That pulled me closer.

Pulled me from the cover of the trees and out onto the pavement.

Pulled me between the gas pumps. Between waiting cars and their owners. I ignored the quiet call of a child saying “doggy!” Behind me as I padded forward, well aware of how intimidating my size could be.

The redhead didn’t turn when I reached his vehicle. He just kept humming under his breath, his eyes shut, his finger tapping on his leg like he was playing a symphony as the steady chug of gas filled his tank.

I wasn’t sure if I should leave.

There were rules against this.

I was breaking a dozen or more of them now, showing myself like this in public. Anyone who knew anything about dog breeds would understand that I wasn’t a house pet. That I was meant for the woods and wilderness, for blood and pine cones. For balance.