Page 35 of Hunting the Alpha
I felt caged, trapped, so I changed the sun to a moon, the trees curving into Donovan’s face. The edges, the smooth lines, it all poured out of me, eking away like a waterfall. Maybe Donovan would never understand my future actions, but one day he might understand this?
Beneath his face, I drew the way I felt him, not saw him, conjuring the sketch of a wolf. The trees and the moon above became his crown.
I wasn’t sure why I’d chosen a wolf to represent him. But that’s how I saw him. A leader, an alpha male, someone who led his people from the back, not the front, ensuring they stayed safe. I hoped he’d understand from my sketch that I’d never risk his home, his town, or his people. No matter how much I had to risk him.
Darkening the shadows, lifting the light from the page, I worked fast and effortlessly, letting the pencil become an extension of me. I poured into it what I felt from him: his strength, his determination, the way he embraced both sides of who he was.
Finishing the final touches, I blinked back to reality, my hand aching. But what I witnessed almost broke my heart in a way that shattered.
It was him, but in a way I couldn’t articulate.
Power, strength, honor.
A knock on the door had me jumping out of my skin. Not sure what Lilly wanted, I shouted, “One moment!”
Wiping my tear-stained cheeks, I sniffed, trying to wipe away the evidence of my tears. I eventually opened the door and gasped, “Donovan?”
“Hi.” He smiled tentatively. “I hope you don’t mind me coming up.”
“I …” I didn’t know what to say. “No. Of course not. About before—”
“It was my fault.” He looked over his shoulder, checking the hallway. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” I ushered him inside, wrapping my arms around myself to stop from reaching for him. “I’m sorry for running off. I just—”
“No. I shouldn’t have pushed or rushed you. That’s on me.”
The way he looked at me, like I was some innocent virgin, annoyed the hell out of me. “Donovan, I’m a grown woman. If I didn’t want your hands on me, I would have stopped you long before you got into my underwear.”
His upper lip quirked. “Is that true?”
“Yes. But the timing of all this. The situation. It’s shit, to be honest. And I think if we’d gone any further, we would have both regretted it.”
“We wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you.”
My mind tried to find a reply. Donovan stalked, edging deeper into the room. I tilted my chin. In defiance. In invitation.I don’t know.But I didn’t move, waiting for him to lessen the gap between us.
His foot caught something on the floor, and he stopped to see what it was. “Your drawing.” He picked up my sketchpad. “I almost trod on th—” He faltered, staring down at the picture I’d drawn of him. I froze, the same panic clawing at me as it always did when people looked at my work—especially with something so personal.
Will it offend him?
Will he hate it?
Will he laugh? Mock it?
“Is this me?” he asked with a roughness I couldn’t define.
Are his hands shaking?
“Yes. When I returned, I drew it. I took a breath, needing to run away, to hide, but I refused to do so. “I started to draw the brook you showed me, but then it turned into you.”
“Why the wolf?” he breathed.
“You remind me of one. And not only because you’re a natural leader to your people here, but I sense sometimes, you’re as caged as I am. And I don’t mean here. I mean deeper. Something in the shadows. But at the brook, you woke up. Your true self shone. And wolves crave the freedom of their calling. Of their pack.” I tried to shrug it off. “It’s just my opinion.”