Page 4 of Rejected Wolf
“Mr. Pettyfer? Morgan, are you listening to me?” Dr. Hildahl asked gruffly, leaning forward.
“Yeah, sure.” I sighed, still half in my daydream about meeting my wolfy-poo.
She reached out and waved a piece of paper at me. “I would like you to take this prescription. It should help you focus a little bit, maybe clear up your thought process a little bit. What do you think?”
“Sure, uh-huh, whatever.” I took the paper and shoved it into my pocket, standing from my seat. “Is our time up yet?”
Dr. Hildahl opened her mouth to reply, but the little timer she kept on the coffee table dinged. “Right, bye,” I said, already headed for the door.
“Wait, Morgan. I’d like for you to take a few days off work and come see me again in a week, to check in and make sure your prescriptions are agreeing with you.” She seemed a bit flustered, following me to the door. “I’m worried about you.”
The smile I gave her was genuine. “Thank you, I appreciate your concern, but I promise you I’m absolutely fine. In fact, I’ve never been better.”
I practically floated all the way to the elevator, imagining my wolf walking along beside me. I wondered if he would have to wear a collar when in the city, and would I get fined for having my pet off-leash? “Oh, Rumpy,” I said with a sigh as the elevator doors closed behind me. “I hope you’re housetrained.”
I was sure if I looked up this prescription online, I’d see it was an antipsychotic, but there was no need. As soon as I stepped out of the office building, I tore up the prescription into itty-bitty pieces and tossed them into a garbage bin at the bus stop out front.
Dr. Hildahl was right about one thing—I needed to take some time off work. I had another camping trip to plan.
Chapter 3
Jude
Oh shit, oh shit,oh shit.
I suspected that no amount of cursing was going to save me from this ultimate clusterfuck, but I wouldn’t know for sure unless I kept trying. “Fuuuuuuck,” I groaned, plowing my fingers into my hair and grabbing two fistfuls, tugging hard enough to sting.
Mate, my wolf growled, prodding at my mind with little nudges that somehow kinda felt like a wet nose to the back of my neck.Go back!
“No way, buddy,” I snarled out loud, stomping through the woods in a beeline for camp. This was what happened when I let him have control. He’d taken one whiff of our mate and gone all hormonal teenager, lusting after someone who was clearly all wrong for us. He needed to use his big brain. And it didn’t help matters when we’d heardthe man whisper, “Mine.” Great, so he felt the connection too. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Speaking of my little brain… I grimaced down at my raging boner. I may have managed to wrestle control back from my wolf and taken my skin, but I clearly wasn’t unaffected by the mating pull, no matter how much it rankled.
In response, my wolf nipped at me, and I hissed at the sharp pain behind my right eye, aggressively slapping at the waist-high ferns, sending a cascade of water droplets across my bare legs. He was growing agitated the farther we got from our supposed mate. He was fighting me every step of the way, and I tightened my grip on him.
“Nope, you’re not getting your fur again until you can prove you’ll behave.” Which we both knew was not happening anytime soon. Now that he’d imprinted on that scent, he would likely track him to the ends of the earth, not satisfied until we marked the man as ours.
Seriously, fate! What were you thinking? Human?! No, no, no. Not if I had anything to say about it. Yes, I’d always wanted a mate and a family, a future like what my packmates had, but not like this! Was this some kind of cosmic joke?! I couldn’t be with a human! Not after everything they’d done to me and my family.
An image flashed across my mind as my wolf recalled the human in the lab coat, the director, Dr. Gray. He’d wantedme to call him Dr. Bob, as if giving the brutal man a friendly name would make him less traumatic; there was nothing friendly about his cruel grin. Next, my wolf followed it up with a dozen or so images of men in camouflage gear and slapped them up on the side of my brain where I couldn’t escape them.
My stride faltered, and I groaned, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I snapped. Our human didn’t look anything like the ones who’d hurt us. I could admit the differences were glaring. First of all, he wasn’t tall. I bet he would barely come up to my shoulder, even when he wasn’t weighed down under a pack. Nor did he look particularly strong, the way he was sweating after a hike. Instead of the buzzcuts I’d grown up around, his dark hair was shaggy and curly, sticking to his wet freckled skin. He wore glasses with thick rims that magnified his brown eyes.
And the biggest difference to the humans of my past, of course, he was carrying a map, not an automatic rifle.
Protect him, my wolf poked at me painfully.
He doesn’t need our protection, I explained.He’ll go home to his big city where he belongs, surrounded by all the other humans. He’ll be fine.
I wished I could believe my own words, but sharing a mind with my wolf was hazardous. His fear began seepinginto me, my stomach churning. I started to imagine the most ridiculous scenarios when he might need me. What if he fell down a ravine and sprained his ankle and couldn’t climb out? He would die of dehydration! Starvation! Exposure! He was so delicate, so…mortal!
Lucky for me, before I could be convinced to go back and make sure the frail human was safe, I arrived back at camp. I tried to let out a relieved sigh, but my chest was too tight. I couldn’t draw in a full breath without wheezing.
“Dude, you okay?” Tristan asked, staring at me with a baffled expression.
“Sure, why?” I answered, my voice high and tight. Could he tell I was lying?
He quirked a brow. “Oh, no reason.” He pointed down at my legs, and when I looked down, I saw that my legs were covered with scratches from the branches I’d barreled past. And then, of course, there was the massive erection.