Sentry

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Chapter 19 - Sentry

As I continued to stare, I realized with increasing concern that those stormy gray eyes were very, very familiar. Something inside me moved.

The brown werewolf sauntered over to me, and with every step it took more of my skin pimpled with goosebumps. He stopped just a few feet away, and sat on its haunches, staring at me with an eerie gaze. Our eyes connected and I felt a trill skitter down my spine.

For some reason, I instinctively knew it was male from his size and posture. Without even realizing it, my head started to tilt to the side as I scanned my memory for why I thought this particular wolf -werewolf- familiar.

The only werewolf I'd seen in werewolf form so far was Xander.

The answer was just there, at the edge of my mind...

"Come on." Xander whispered in my ear.

It startled me; his warm breath on my earlobe, his close proximity. I whipped to look at him with a bit of an annoyed glower.

When I turned to look at the werewolf, he was gone. "Where did the-!"

But Xander was already walking away, not paying me any heed.

"Hey, wait up!" I had no desire to be left alone in a werewolf village by myself.

As I followed Xander up the steep hill, I couldn't help looking over my shoulder for a sign of the stormy-eyed werewolf. A sentry, as Xander called him.

****

By the time we reached the top of the hill, I was panting like a dog -and no, the irony was not lost on me. Once I thought Xander wasn't looking, I leaned against a big tree on the path, attempting to catch my breath. I wasn't exactly the most athletic person in the world, though I suspected a hike up such a steep hill would exhaust just about anyone. Anyone human.

Xander on the other hand didn't have a drop of sweat on him. He looked like we'd just been strolling through an air conditioned mall. Damn him!

He turned to look back at me and I immediately straightened, putting on a relaxed front and forcing myself to breathe normally, which was harder said than done.

I can read your mind. Xander reminded me with an amused chuckle.

Bemused, it was all I could do not to bend down, rip out my shoe and throw it at his head. How many times did I have to tell him to stay out of my mind?!

Oh, you'd miss.

I decided to try my luck and see if I could prove him wrong.

I didn't.

Told you you'd miss, he said arrogantly, grinning that infuriating grin of his from ear to ear.

Only because he had superhuman reflexes!

"Go get my shoe," I commanded, too tired to do it herself.

He did so without objection, which was... surprising to me. He casually walked to the row of bushes my left shoe had ended up in and plucked it out, seemingly unfazed by the thorns protruding from the tangled wiry stems. He carefully picked out the thorns lodged in it.

Then he brought me my shoe without protest, still wearing that grin. Apparently it was contagious, because I couldn't help but laugh a little at his undeterred amusement.

What a ludicrous situation. Here I was, arguing and tossing shoes at a werewolf.

"Finally."

Startled, my laugh stilled and our eyes met.

"What?"

"I finally got you to laugh." There was heat and intensity in his gaze, and a sense of pride lurking in it as well. He made it sound like he'd accomplished something great.

I was stunned into silence.

Why did it matter to him whether I laughed or cried?

Not waiting for me to say a thing, he knelt before me and lifted my left foot, and then slipped my shoe back on. At his touch, my skin reacted instantly, turning warm and tingly where he was touching me. My mark also responded similarly.

And without waiting for me to thank him, he straightened and walked away.

"You must be tired. Let's get you to bed."

Still speechless, I nodded my agreement numbly, though he probably couldn't see on account of him walking away with his back to me.

I followed him, my thoughts scrambled.

He'd actually knelt before me like a... a... gentleman. He'd gone down on one knee to do something as menial as helping my foot back into my shoe, something I could have done without his aid.

Was he really not as bad as he seemed? He was a rude jerk most of the time, trespassing on my every private thought. He was also my kidnapper. And to top it all off, he was a werewolf, a creature of myth.

But... he could be nice when he wanted.

"I sleep on the left side of the bed, by the way."

She stopped in her tracks. "We're sharing a bed?"

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

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