The Wolf's Surrender - By Kendra Leigh Castle Page 0,55

had her worried about him. It was more that she needed some time to think, to be by herself. And to recover from her current state of overbearing-werewolf overload.

“Maybe we’ll find him tonight, and this will all be over,” Bane said, his dark eyes sincere.

“I hope so. And good luck,” Mia said. “It was nice meeting you, Tomas.”

The older Alpha inclined his head, and Mia headed for the door. Before she could leave, though, Kenyon caught up with her, his blue eyes giving off a faint glow.

“Hey, look...I get that I’m not choice number one here, but would you let me take you to lunch tomorrow?”

Mia hesitated, but between the earnest expression on Kenyon’s handsome face and the fact that Jenner had been very clear about his lack of availability, she knew the only problem here was her own ridiculous infatuation. She’d finally done something positive tonight and taken control of part of her destiny.

It was time to start thinking—realistically—about how she would shape it.

“Sure,” she said. “I’d love to.”

His grin was so big she actually felt guilty. He was perfect in every way but one: He wasn’t Jenner. And that was something she was just going to have to get used to, no matter who she chose.

With a wistful smile, Mia said good-night.

Chapter 12

She awakened in the wee hours of the morning and lay staring at the ceiling. Strange dreams full of racing shadows and eerie light had plagued her in sleep. Not really nightmares, but definitely unsettling. Mia had finally surfaced, opening her eyes in the darkness full of an indescribable yearning. Rather than being sleepy, energy coursed through her, and she was more alert now than she had been all day.

She thought of running beneath the moon...and of Jenner.

Neither fixation was terribly productive, Mia thought with a glance at the little clock on the nightstand, which read 1:00 a.m. Her stomach rumbled pitifully, until finally, with a sigh, Mia slid from the bed and headed into the quiet house, clad in her thin cotton sleep shorts and a tank. There were no rules against late night snacks, she supposed. Cooler air swirled around her legs as she moved, a pleasant sensation that prickled across her nerve endings and made her think again of her dreams.

Mia paused in front of the wall of windows, looking out into the night. She watched the trees sway gently in the night breeze, and longing again suffused her. She wanted to be out there, in the woods. Forgetting about the snack, she wrapped her arms around her midsection and stared into the night, occasionally seeing small shadows dart between the trees. Night creatures.

Like she would be. Coming here had allowed things she thought she’d buried long ago to come rushing to the surface. The woods had always been her place, coaxing magic from her until it became as natural as breathing. She had vague memories of running through the trees, light like fireflies shimmering all around her. It wasn’t just blood that had a song. It was everything, the world, the night, the creatures.

It was no shock to her when her own reflection, glowing softly, appeared in the glass. Warmth coursed through her, pure and true. This is what she should have remembered, instead of years of cruel little barbs. Something, whether it was the woods or the wolf blood or a combination of everything that made up the Hollow, had made her magic begin to flow again from all the places she’d tried to hide it. It didn’t feel wrong and dark. It felt like it had when she was a child—like a part of her, and the most natural thing in the world.

Tentatively, then more confidently, she embraced it, and the woman in the glass glowed more brightly, a will-o’-the-wisp in the dark.

For all the stories about how frightening the Unseelie could be, Mia wondered how they really had been, whether they were extinct or simply gone from this world, like her grandmother. Ada had clung to the tattered threads of her family’s fae lineage like a talisman, priding herself on a few drops of Seelie blood, dreaming of the Summer Court.

Her father had been a half-blood Unseelie, handsome and dark. But pictures were all she had to remember him by. Him and the beautiful, fair-haired woman who had been her mother. She doubted they’d thought her an abomination.

Maybe it was time to stop thinking of herself as one.

A simple thought, but one that arrowed through her like lightning. The