Tobias looked at her differently now, as if he was waiting for her fragile human body to come back. And with each passing day, the worry in his eyes grew deeper. He even smelled sad. She didn’t want him to be sad. She loved Tobias. He was her mate, and she wanted to please him.
She trotted through the mud along a creek bank in Wolfland. She knew she was still in his territory because his smell coated this place. She didn’t understand a word he said—Link—but Tobias’s words were clear. He had told her she was to stay in Wolfland or be locked in the shed behind the big cabin where Tobias slept at night. She hated cages so she minded the rules.
Splaying her legs, she lapped water from a wave on the bank. Her hackles rose when she smelled him. Link. Dominance and fur. If her sense of smell didn’t pick him up, her sense of hearing sure did. Crazy growler.
With the soft slap of his paws against the mud, he loped along the bank on the other side of the creek and took a drink right across from her, his bright gray eyes on her. He did this a lot. Checked on her. She used to attack, but it did no good and only exhausted her. Nothing seemed to hurt Link. Head lowered, he gave her one last look, then trotted back the way he’d come.
It was late in the day and the sun was setting on the horizon, so Vera made her way through the trails she’d been creating back toward Link’s cabin, and more importantly, to the shed beyond. That was home. Oh, sure, the woods should’ve been home for a wild thing like her, but Tobias slept in the shed, and he was really the meaning of home.
Winding around the lush greenery, she inhaled deeply and was rewarded with the faint scent of her mate. A sharp human smell collided with fur and dominance, and while the human in him had scared her at first, now she adored it. That human part of him had hunted Jonathan. The thought of the evil man curled her lips over her teeth. Tobias had avenged her and punished that monster for what he’d done. Tobias was a good mate.
She froze when she saw him. Tobias was sitting in the old chair in front of the shed, removing his muddy boots as if he wanted to keep the inside of his den free of dirt. Silly human. The dirt smell was the best part of a den. But when she lifted her gaze to his face, she flattened her ears back and hunched low to the ground. His eyes looked sad again. His brown hair was mussed on top, as if he’d been running his hands through it like he did when he was stressed, and the vibrant green in his eyes had dulled. He was a big, brawny human, but he kicked his second muddy boot off, rested his elbows on his knees, and hunched forward, looking utterly exhausted. He didn’t look at her, though he had to have known she was there. He had big senses for a human. Instead, he stared off into the woods beside the shed with a troubled look.
She slunk forward, tail and ears low. Poor human mate. If he pet her, he would feel better, and so would she.
But when she rubbed her back under his limp fingertips, he flinched away and leaned back in his chair instead. He dragged his gaze to hers, but where they usually sparked with greeting, they were hard and cold.
“Vera, I’ve been patient. I have. But you’re hurting me.”
Hurting him? No, no, no, she didn’t want to hurt him. Not Tobias. Not the man who kept her safe from Jonathan.
She tried to rub her back under his fingertips again, but he crossed his arms over his chest.
“It’s been two weeks, and you haven’t Changed back. You haven’t shared your body with your human side, and I get it. You were on that medicine for a long time, and your fox needed time out in the open after being suppressed for so long.” Tobias lifted a dark eyebrow. “But we have work to do.”
She cowered on her belly. Work?
“You have to make medicine for me and my brothers.”
Oh. Disappointment slashed through her chest and drew a small whimper of pain from her lips.
Tobias leaned forward, elbows on his knees again. “But more than that, you have work to do with me. I just got you, and I need more than your animal. Do you understand?”
No, she didn’t understand. This was all she had to give. She was a fox. What else could he possibly want from her?
“Change back, Vera.”
She skittered back a few steps and perked her ears. Perhaps she’d heard wrong or misunderstood.
“Change back,” he repeated in a stern voice.
That word sounded familiar as it brushed across her ears. Familiar and terrifying.
“You aren’t just a fox, and deep down, you know it. You’re human, too.”
Vera snarled at that insult.
“Can’t you feel her? You aren’t my mate, fox. Your human side is.”