Page 91 of Come for Me
My pace slows to a stroll, and my paws come to a stop as we reach the field outside of Jemma’s cabin.
Dax walks ahead of me, taking in our surroundings.
The view of my childhood home has always been stunning, but Dax’s form in it added something. My painter’s eye longs to portray his sharp, masculine features against the soft deep greens and intricate flowers I’ve painted.
I could never recreate such a masterpiece like Dax.
With a sigh of longing that perks Dax’s ears, I shift, baring myself to Dax in the soft grass. He grins, deviousness flashing in his orbs, his fur transforming to flesh in quick speed. My wolf catalogs his naked form contrasting against the field.
I reach for my clothing, which was left by the pack when they heard of our arrival. We both put on clothes, becoming presentable houseguests.
My wolf sends a boost of confidence my way. Taking his hand, I lead him through the winding garden path, careful not to step on the precious flowers, herbs, and plants Jemma must’ve tilled that morning, judging from the unearthed dirt sinking beneath the weight of our steps.
Small footprints I know all too well greet me on the trail, my pace quickening as I near Jemma’s. Tension I didn’t realize I’ve been holding releases from my body, the comfort of my surroundings settling around my heart.
Behind me, I can practically feel Dax’s gaze as he scans unfamiliar surroundings for threats. His back is rigid and tense,his shoulders squared for a fight. The only softness to his stature are the fingers curled around my own. It’s hard for him to settle if he’s constantly assessing for danger, planning evacuation strategies, and radiating suspicious energy toward the towering sunflowers.
A cardinal lands on a nearby branch. Rustling leaves has Dax tensing and darting behind himself. A laugh rolls out of my lungs on its own accord at his cautious but overprotective nature. His inability to relax deepens as his brows furrow at the noise escaping my lips.
His heart is beating normally, but he’s anxious, but why? Surely, he’s visited other packs before.
Mate doesn’t know these grounds as well. Mate doesn’t like the disadvantage. Mate is protective over us.
The attacks have been so random the only pattern is they’re getting closer to Crescent. Knowing Dax, when he’s in this state, all it would take is someone to startle him accidentally and he would hurt them—or worse.
Placing my hand on his chest, sparks from our bond crackle like the Pop Rocks I ate as a kid. Under my palm, his muscles relax.
“Hey, look at me.”
Dax’s eyes meet mine.
The man who is never told no or given a command doesn’t hesitate when I tell him what to do. There’s something powerful and precious about making power bend.
As his eyes soften, panic dissipates at my touch as my thumb rubs his chest.
“We’re safe here.”
Taking a deep breath, he nods.
I drop my hand and knock on Jemma’s door.
“Who is it?” Jemma’s sweet voice sings from the other side.
“’Laina,” I say, in my best impression of Jemma’s accent.
Dax snaps his head my way.
“What was that?”
I snicker.
Feet shuffle inside as they make their way to the door.
Jemma opens it, the purple gardening hat and gloves I’d gifted her for her birthday falling from her hands and landing beside her.
Jemma likes to stay busy this time of year. It’s nice to see some things haven’t changed since my departure—much like the graying strands of her hair to her exaggerated display of glee through her crow’s feet.
A broad smile forms on my lips as startled shouts of joy escape her own. She clasps her hands in front of her mouth, the movement is a habit she developed to hide the wrinkles she earned from a life well lived. Excitement and happy tears fill her eyes at our reunion. She embraces me in a big hug, squeezing me.
