and crawl into bed, pulling the covers over my head in a juvenile attempt to block out the world.
Finally, sleep takes me, and I happily let it.
My dreams are fitful and dark. I wake cold, shivering despite the warmth of the room and the cheery sunlight streaming in through the open blinds. Visions of blood and monsters fade quickly until all I can remember are faces. Corbin’s. And two others I’ve never seen before. Twin brothers with shaggy brown hair and piercing eyes.
I glance around the master suite and see Corbin’s side of the bed is still untouched. He’s still punishing me for making him look bad last night. The sun through the window gave away his absence. If he’d come to bed, he would have shuttered all the windows with his special blinds, to keep the sun out.
Just as well.
Today’s my half day at school. Usually, we spend the evening together but I don’t relish the idea of more arguing.
Dressing quickly, I move quietly through the house, listening for evidence of Corbin’s movements. His voice drifts out from behind his closed office door. He rattles off numbers that sound like vital signs or patient readings. I don’t stop long enough to figure it out.
Grabbing my purse, I slip out the door and hurry to the garage.
I don’t exhale until I’m driving off, leaving the house, and my fiancé, behind.
Class passes in a blur.
Luckily, I’m ahead on the reading, and the professor doesn’t seem to notice that I spend most of the time on my phone looking up wild wolf traits and behavioral patterns.
When class ends, I find myself driving again, this time aimlessly.
The sunshine and warm air is a balm to the heartache I can’t explain but has somehow grown worse since yesterday. When I see the entrance for highway 1, I take it and wind up driving the coastline again.
On the outskirts of some tiny beach town, I park and find a sunny spot to sit on the rocks jutting out over the ocean. My phone buzzes in my hand. Another missed call from Corbin. Another unanswered text.
I ignore them and set my notifications to Do Not Disturb.
All too soon, the sun begins to dip toward the horizon and the air cools.
I turn back and head for the city, my heart heavy at the idea of returning to my house. To Corbin.
Traffic slows me down as I reach the edge of downtown. I inch along with it, swallowed up by the rush hour commuters and delivery truck drivers that clog the highways this time of day.
The sunlight fades, streaking the sky in pink and orange.
I stare up at it until a horn blares behind me, spurring me onward.
Eventually, I tire of the traffic and when I park again, I do a double take at the office strip where I’ve ended up. After a quick scan of the building number, I realize this is the address on the doctor’s card. The man I met at the gala. The man I can’t stop thinking about.
Part of me knows this is strange. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m meant to be here. And when I climb out of my car and walk into the small office, something inside me settles. I know without asking the receptionist that he is here. And that being near him will ease every fear and worry I’m carrying.
“May I help you?” the receptionist asks. She’s a middle aged woman with a no-nonsense attitude and a sharpness in her brown eyes that make me second guess coming today.
“I’m here to see Dr. Livingstone.” My voice is shaky. Unsure.
She gives me a once-over, assessing. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I—”
“Name?”
“Celeste D’LeLune.”
“Sit.”
She points to a small seating area and I scurry away, nervous under her harsh scrutiny. She gets up and disappears down a narrow hall.
I wait, fingers twisting with nerves.
What am I doing here?
This is crazy.
I push to my feet, ready to slip out, when the woman returns.
“The doctor will see you,” she says and gestures toward the hallway.
Face heating, I duck my head and mumble my thanks, making my way down the hall. Artwork lines the walls. Landscapes featuring wooded glens, all except for one which depicts a woman standing between two large brown wolves. Her expression is complex, fierce yet vulnerable, strong yet sensitive. A storm is brewing behind them, but they seem impervious to it.
The hairs on my arms and neck stand on end. I pause and suck in a sharp breath at