Moon Dancer - Hidden Wolf 1

Grayson

I pulled onto the dirt road and drove the mile from the main road to the house in record time. Riding through the barrier, I shudder and quickly put my bike away. The sky had gotten progressively darker and the distant smell of rain filled the sky.

The house was small, the blue paint chipping off of the wood. I kick off my shoes and scoop them up. Walking down into the basement, I strip and place my clothes and shoes in the washer. I add a tablespoon of laundry detergent and start the load.

It shook and clanked, a small puddle already forming on the concrete floor. There was a towel already on the floor for this purpose and I moved it over the puddle using my foot.

Naked, I walk upstairs and pad barefoot down the hall. I know there won't be any warm water and I was out of shampoo. But I was desperate to clean myself.

Turning on the water, I step in with my bar of dove soap and try my best to scrub away the remnants of the thick red soup. I work the soap over my hair too, hoping that it scrubs away the crusty bits of soup that had dried in my waves.

I sit down in the tub, letting the water rain over me. Pulling my legs to my chest, I hugged myself. The scar on my left forearm scratched at my leg.

When my skin was pink from scrubbing and numb from the cold, I turn off the water and step out onto the chipped tile floor.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I grab my towel. The bruise that Larkin had given me last time he visited covered my collarbone was fading, but the colors were still prominent.

Forcing myself to look away, I toweled myself off and padded into my bedroom.

My mattress was on the floor, a multitude of pillows and a mountain of blankets piled on top of it.

I had never set up a true nest.

I think it's because I've been ignoring my wolf instincts for my entire life.

No shifting, no growling, no whining- no nests.

My instincts to build a nest were lost in me anyways. For a Gypsy, or an Omega for that matter, to build a nest, they had to be in an environment that they felt safe and secure in.

My life was anything but stable. I could never imagine having a moment where I let myself be so vulnerable to make a nest. But it didn't matter. My life wasn't mine.

I slip on a large white t-shirt and underwear. My wet hair fell down my back, soaking the shirt.

Padding back to the kitchen, I freeze at the figure.

Standing by the door, leaning against the wall and holding a cigarette, was Larkin.

He looked up and blew out a long cloud of smoke. "Gracie." He smiled.

I immediately looked at my feet and stood as still as I could. My lungs moved quickly and way too shallow, unable to take in enough air.

Fear penetrated every sense of me.

Larkin had slick black hair and piercing purple eyes. The violet orbs stared me down.

He kicked off the wall and walked towards me, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. "You have some explaining to do, Gracie."

I involuntarily shuddered at the nickname.

Larkin stopped in front of me and lifted a hand. I flinched but tried my best not to move. He ran his cold fingers down the same cheek Finn had touched and I felt a tear slip down my cheek. Finn had been so gentle and now Larkin's rough fingers chased the lingering presence of my mate away. My stomach clenches.