Free Howl by Annalise Grey Page B

settled on each other for
about two beats. His unblinking blue eyes blazed as they caught
mine. His perfect lips quivered slightly, battling a grin playing
at the corners of his mouth.
    His left hand, slightly concealed by the
placement of his body, opened enough for my hand to brush over it
wrist first, down to the burning tips of each finger. The very air
around us exploded with static so violent and pure I could almost
make out tiny arcs of electricity between our palms. And then it
was gone again. Our energies which fought so vigorously to unite
returned, conquered, to their prospective homes inside our skins.
Connection broken, I silently let Tristan guide me through the
corridors out of the building and to my car in the parking lot.
    “Did you see the way that nurse looked at
your stitches?” Tristan began as we pulled out of the parking lot.
“I really thought she was going to have a conniption!” Between
trembling barks of laughter he said, “Humans. If only they
knew.”
    I managed a weak smile and turned my face to
the window. Disquiet settled in my belly, heavy as if I’d swallowed
rocks. I spent the rest of the ride home preoccupied by thoughts of
Jaime. He would be sure to see my wound and the scar that would
follow. How would I explain this? I debated between a rogue tree
branch while out hiking and an actual cougar attack. But to admit
that I'd been attacked by a cougar would clearly lead to the
rangers sweeping and bringing in the cougar which meant more
rangers in the woods where we hunt. However, a tree branch was weak
at best. The conditions would have to be absolutely perfect for a
tree branch to tear my flesh through at least two layers of
clothing. It doesn't even make sense. I thought. As the rocks
tumbled as harshly as my thoughts, my gash burned even more.
     
     
     
    ~Daniel~
     
    He was sitting at our table with a plateful
of spaghetti when Tristan and I came home. I could tell he was
super tall before he even stood up. Several inches over six feet.
He was pale with really dark, curly hair tied in a ponytail. His
warm light grey eyes greeted us before his voice did.
    “Hi, I’m Daniel.” His silky soft voice didn’t
quite match his rugged appearance. The man Daniel wore a flannel
grey and black shirt over jeans with fraying holes in more places
that I could count. Heavy black biker boots finished off the
carefree look.
    Tristan took his outstretched hand and shook
it, a quizzical look to his face. “Hi, I’m Tristan and this is
Sophie.”
    I know it’s rude to stare but I couldn’t take
my eyes of this guy. He seemed awfully at ease sitting at our table
eating our food. We rarely had visitors. The very few werewolves
who would pass through didn’t stay more than a day or two and they
certainly weren’t so relaxed. At least they didn’t seem to be. The
handful I met had been polite and helped out around the house in
exchange for a place to stay before moving on. But this guy was
different. Like he knew he should be here. I could read it on his
face and I could smell it in the air. Perfectly happy to be where
he was. This bothered me a lot more than it probably should
have.
    Daniel must have sensed my irritation because
he cleared his throat and spoke again. “I’m sorry; I should
probably be a little more specific.” His eyes darted to me and back
to Tristan. “I’m from St. John, Canada. I’m working my way to the
Rockies looking for other packs. But on my way, I thought I’d see
some of the United States.” He leaned back on his heels and shoved
his hands in his worn-out jeans pockets.
    “Hey man, welcome.” Tristan replied with a
smile. “Is there any spaghetti left?” Of course Tristan’s thoughts
go directly to food. I thought. It only increased my
irritation.
    Daniel gave me a lopsided smile and sat back
down to eat, finally acting a little self-conscious. I felt a bit
smug at this observation.
    That evening at dinner I learned more about
this stranger in our