The curse of the wolf

All that matters

Twenty minutes earlier.

*Griff*

I do not have to look in her direction to know exactly where she is. I never do. Her presence in the room is like a magnet to every cell in my body. Like a call to my soul.

But even without that, I would know. I can hear her easily over the chatter, and her scent is caressing my senses like a gentle lover. That is how focused I am on her.

She is with that fiance of hers, and the way he talks to her has my blood roaring along with the Wolf I share my soul with. I have to fight my instinct to grab him and throw him headfirst out the window.

I doubt he even notices the small flashes of pain in her eyes when he low-key belittles her, or the small signs of doubt moving across her beautiful features when he delivers an underhanded jab.

But I see it, and I hear it in the way her voice changes and her breath catches ever so slightly.

Part of me wants to get up and go to her, to tell her that she deserves better, to tell her that I can give her better. To tell her that we are meant to be.

But the truth is, I can’t. If I were to follow my deepest desires, if I were to draw her into my life, I would most likely end up hurting us both, maybe even destroying her in the process. Someone like her, someone fragile… like all humans are… wouldn’t last long if with me.

Since I found her, I have told myself plenty of times that I need to stay away completely for both of our sakes. I can’t seem to find the strength to do it. I can’t seem to deny myself the nearness of her.

It is not only because of my deep need for her and a desire to protect her but also because when she is near, my second curse seems to pull back. I can not only feel but taste and enjoy the little things. I can savor things I long since forgot the taste of.

Closing my hand around my cup, I lift it closer to my nose, enjoying both the warmth and the aromatic scent of the black coffee. I breathe in deeply; damn I will miss this.

Even to me, it is weird how I can smell out one person in a throng of a thousand. Or find whatever is lost using my nose. But any pleasant scent, any scent that brings me joy, any smell that spurs happy memories, is lost to me unless she is near.

But I guess curses have no logic, and that the work of a dark witch can defy any law of nature. I have long ago stopped trying to make sense of my affliction.

I feel it when her attention turns to me. Her eyes run over me like a gentle caress, sending shivers down my spine and I know she is trying to figure me out. She is probably wondering if I was watching her.

Once again I find myself fighting every instinct that the Wolf stirs in me. To go to her, to hold her, to possess her.

So when her i***t fiance once again has her attention I empty my cup and get up, intending to leave. Staying is only punishing myself further, and I am not really a fan of emotional pain. It is time for me to put distance between us.

But just as I leave through the back door, leaving her presence behind, I hear screams out on the street in front of the cafe and a voice mumbling in French, “They should die, they all need to die.”

Of course, I am only able to hear him due to the Wolf in me picking up the sound and filtering it out for me. I curse internally, just what I need, some crazy person running amok with a gun.

We, me and my wolf, instantly start to look for the threat, and for a way that we might help stop it. I know that revealing myself would be catastrophic, but maybe we can help without getting to that. I am not ready to have to flee the country just yet.

When I realize the shooter is headed into the cafe, I know I have to get back inside. I have to protect my mate at all costs. Even if it will hurt me, or worse, reveal myself to the world.

However, I soon realize that getting back in is not easy, not even for me, as everyone else, logically, is trying to get out at this moment. I have no desire to hurt anyone in my endeavor, which I could do way too easily if forcing my way in.

“The front door”. I mumble, making a swift decision. No one will be running toward the shooter.

I am relying on the panic and general confusion to be my cover. If someone sees a man move faster than he should, probably people will tell themselves they were just panicked and their mind was playing tricks. So I move at top speed around the building and in through the front door. I ignore the shooter for now. Believe me, I would love to take him down, but it is more complicated than that.

And then I see her, my mate. Apparently, her fiance has abandoned her and she is desperately trying to get a little boy out through the back door. No one is helping; instead, they act like stampeding cattle, not caring who they hurt on their way.

Her face and voice are filled with worry, but it is mostly for the little boy. My mate has a soft heart.

I know I need to help her, so I push my way into the throng of people, reaching for the boy she so desperately seeks to save. “Here, give him to me.”

She looks so grateful as she lifts him that my heart feels like it might shatter. I am not even sure why it has that effect, it might be because that emotion shining from her is aimed at me.

“I am going to lower you down outside, okay?” I tell the boy. “As soon as your feet are on the ground, you run and hide. Stay clear of people. You must do that, okay?”

“Okay.” He says through tears. His large eyes are blinking rapidly, and I know instinctively he will do as instructed. It is a risk having him on his own outside, but far less than keeping him here.

I smile, “Good boy, here you go.”

Finding a hole and using my size as leverage, I manage to lift the boy over the heads of the people lodged in the door, and put him down on the outside, happy to see him dart off, weaving in and out between the fleeing horde until I can’t see him anymore. I hope he will stay safe.

I do not doubt that someone will help him; no one with a heart would ignore a small crying child on his own. The police have arrived too and hopefully, they can find his parents. The most important thing right now is that he is not in here, but out there, safe from the shooter.

Suddenly I feel a pang of pain and I instantly know that my mate is in danger. So I whip around. The attacker is right there, pointing his gun at her. The fright rolls off her; it is in her stance and in her scent. She is sure she is going to die.

All bets are off, and all precautions and fears of revealing myself are forgotten. I have one aim left in my miserable life, and that is to save her. She is all that matters.