Wolfsong (Green Creek 1) - Page 321

I raised my hands in front of my face.

As I watched, that pull in the back of my head became sharp, and claws slid out from the tips of my fingers, wicked black hooks that glistened in the light of the moon.

The king was closer.

I could hear him now. The steps he took. The breaths through his nose.

Soon he would appear.

I dropped my hands back to my sides.

The noises around me died and all was silent.

I said, “Hello.”

The forest held its breath.

A great wolf moved into a clearing.

He was white with black spattered along his chest and back. He was poised, holding himself regally, every step he took deliberate. He was larger than he’d ever been in life. My eyes burned. My throat closed off. That ache in my heart grew larger.

It wasn’t that I was dreaming.

It wasn’t that I was awake.

It was that I was either dead or almost there.

Thomas Bennett stood in front of me, face level with mine.

I choked out, “I’m sorry.”

The wolf huffed and leaned forward, neck on my shoulder, head curling around my back, pulling me close.

I fell against him, pushing my face against his chest.

He smelled of the forest. Of pine and oak. Of a summer breeze and a winter wind. I’d never smelled that on him before, not like this. Not this strong.

He let me stay against him, waiting for me to stop trembling. He was warm. I was safe.

Eventually, I calmed.

I pulled away, the side of his head trailing against my ear.

He sat in front of me, tail thumping along the ground.

He waited.

I looked down at my hands. What could I say to him? What could I possibly say to let him know how sorry I was? How I should have done more to keep his pack together? How I thought I’d done my best. How I only wanted to keep them all safe. How I did what I thought was right. How angry I was that a monster could come and take everything away from me, could steal me from the people I loved the most. How his son was the only person I could ever see myself with.

And how, when I’d needed him the most, he’d been there for me.

As my friend.

As my packmate.

As my Alpha.

As my father.

Tags: T.J. Klune Green Creek Fantasy
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