Page 67 of Hungry Like the Wolf

“You might not know, but he would know. He would have known the moment he saw you. So I’ll ask you again. What’s the plan?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not his fated mate, but what if he meets them? What if he finds them and—” Halphas snapped his fingers, and Nadja startled. “It’ll be over.”

“He wouldn’t,” she mumbled. “He?—”

“Won’t be able to help it,” Halphas interrupted. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, a position so like how Robbie sometimes sat that Nadja felt as if her throat was closing up. “Look, Nadja, I love you. You’re the only family I’ve got. I’m just stating facts. You deserve more than to be tossed aside like that. Better to leave before you get hurt.”

But that was just it. It would hurt no matter what. There was never a time when it wouldn’t hurt because she loved him. She loved him. And when had such a terrible, wonderful, awful, awe-full thing happened?

“I—”

“I know, babe. I know you love him. And maybe he loves you, too. I don’t know. But this is beyond his control. It’s beyond your control. And I can’t let you get hurt like that.”

“I don’t want to go back,” she whispered, because anything, even a broken heart, was better than going back to Hell. She’d waste away to nothing if she returned. “I’m not going back.”

Halphas stood. “Okay. Fine. You’re not going back. So where are you going?”

CHAPTER 29

Robbie raced back to the cabin, eager to see Nadja. The whole run back, he’d gone over what he might say to her.

“I love you. I don’t care where we are. We can live here. We can live in World’s End. We can live on the fucking moon. Just let me be with you.”

He knew it was soon. He’d known her for two weeks. He’d been sleeping with her for only one of those. But deep down in the part of his gut that had never led him astray when he’d listened to it, he knew that he belonged with her. Maybe fated mates were real. Maybe they weren’t. Robbie didn’t pretend to understand how the divine worked, and he likewise didn’t presume to claim to be an expert on the workings of fate. At the end of the day, however, it didn’t matter. Fate or not, he was a creature with free will, and he was choosing her.

He burst through the front door like Kramer.

“Nadja! Nadja, baby, are you here?”

He could tell by the stillness in the cabin, the complete silence of the space, that she wasn’t there. He froze in the doorway and inhaled a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes and letting the wolf part of him come forth. So very close to the surface, so eager to break free, he let the beast scent the air. He smelled her. He smelled himself. He smelled the sex from that morning, the earthy, tangy aroma that clung to the air and sheets. He smelled sugar and cinnamon. He smelled burnt sugar. And lingering, laced through it all, was something else. Another burning smell, more acrid, almost sulfuric. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head quickly.

The logical part of his brain told him that she probably went to the rec hall or out on some errand with Rose. But the part of his gut that knew he was a wolf and knew he was her wolf also knew that something had happened here. He walked slowly into the cabin. Nothing was out of place except for the fact that her shoes were missing. He went to the bedroom first. She’d made the bed, pulling the quilt up under the pillows and smoothing it. She’d folded her pajamas and put them at the foot of the bed. A cold, half-drunk cup of coffee sat on the nightstand.

He backed out of the bedroom and went back to the living room. The plush blanket was folded and draped over the armrest of the sofa. The puzzle they’d been working on was still laid out on the coffee table. The sense of wrongness was blaring like an alarm in his brain now.

He walked the few steps to the kitchen. The drying rack was full of dishes. Three mixing bowls and a few baking sheets. Measuring cups and spoons. The plates from dinner last night. The sink was empty and sparkling clean. The counters had been wiped down even though the scent of baked goods hung in the air.

He turned to the small kitchen table. In the center was a plate of cookies covered in plastic wrap. They looked awful, and he couldn’t help but smile. She couldn’t cook to save her life, but she had made him cookies anyway. He looked around and tried telling himself that everything was fine. Her shoes were gone because she was out with Rose or one of the other pack members. And all this wrongness he felt, the sudden avalanche of panic was just because of the looming shift.

Everything was fine. He’d take these cookies down to the rec hall. Someone would appreciate them, and he had more than enough to share. He’d brag to the pack about how thoughtful his mate was. That word—mate—sent a thrill down to his toes to even think about. He picked up the plate and noticed a piece of paper on the table underneath.

He realized in that moment that he’d never really looked at her handwriting. He’d never had an occasion to. She wrote in a tight, neat cursive.

Robbie,

I had to go back. I wished I could have told you in person, but there wasn’t time. I’m so sorry, but Rose promised me that you’ll be safe here. They’ll let you stay. I hope tonight goes well. I know you’re going to be a beautiful wolf. I really wanted to see it, but my time here is up.

Thank you for everything. The past week has been the best of my entire life, both on this plane and Hell. I’ll never forget it, just like I’ll never forget you. Take care of yourself, please. And have the best life.

Love,

Nadja

Have the best life? Have the best life? He felt as if all of the blood in his body fell to his feet and his stomach roiled. He raced for the bathroom and collapsed to his knees before the toilet, vomiting so hard that his vision went spotty and dark. He clutched the note in one hand, wiping his mouth with the back of the other before reaching up to flush the toilet.

His mouth tasted awful and his body felt worse. He didn’t know which was worse, the anger that raced through his veins like a lit fuse, or the desolation that ripped at his insides like talons. He shakily rose to his feet, ready to go after her, to chase her, to fall to his knees and beg her to let him come with her. Anything but this hollow, cavernous feeling of her being gone.