Moonshadows Ch. 05

"What did you just say?" I spoke into his chest.

"I asked what happened. You're white as a sheet."

Cautiously, gingerly, I pushed myself far enough away from Rafe that I could look into his face. He looked back down at me, a protective intensity taught in his features.

"No." I said. "You asked me 'what did he do to you?'"

I don't know what my face showed, but my voice was flat, deadened with unnamed dread. Rafe made no reply, his own features unreadable.

"How did you know anyone was here, Rafe? How did you know it was a man?" An awful, creeping unease was uncoiling inside me. It could have just been the residual suspicion from my upsetting encounter, but my intuition was insisting that something wasn't right here either. Something was going on. And maybe, a little voice inside me said, maybe that something had been going on for a long time now, and I had just been too infatuated to notice. Maybe something had been amiss all along. "I didn't say anything about a guy being here."

"Selene," he began, his tone low and calming. But there was something else there, an undercurrent of warning that made me flinch.

"No," I said again, and pushed against his chest. My intuitive inner voice was getting louder, telling me to escape the arms that I now saw as confining. "Please answer the questions, Rafe."

He made no answer, and no move to release me so I pushed hard, squirming. The sudden return of fear made me dizzy. Why wouldn't he just say that he'd seen Cassian walking away from the apartment, or some other, equally reasonable explanation? His silence was strange and confusing and wrong.

"Let go of me." I demanded, my voice quavering.

He did, but not so abruptly that I would stumble. Instead, he stepped back carefully, his hands going slowly to his sides, his face hard and flat.

"What do you want me to say?" His voice was carefully uninflected.

"Just tell me what's going on," I begged. I hated how shrill my voice came out; high and tense and right on the edge of panic. I couldn't articulate why this line of questioning had become so important to me, other than the vague, but insistent impression that it was the key to something bigger. And that maybe the answer would ease the twisting foreboding inside me that was throwing me so totally off balance.

It was with an effort that I continued more evenly, "Did you see his car or something? I know I didn't say anything about him being here before you asked. How did you know?"

He hesitated a moment and I was about to ask again, then his jaw tightened and he said reluctantly, "I smelled him."

"You..." I blinked. "What?" Whatever answer I had been expecting, that wasn't it. It took me a moment to reaffirm what he'd said. Was he being sarcastic? Teasing? Was he lying outright? A new, sudden hurt was added to my fear. Was he mocking me?

"You heard me."

I realized I was shaking again, moisture welling in my eyes. I took another stumbling step backwards. Away from him.

"Yes," I murmured, "I did. But I don't understand."

Rafe let out an explosive sigh. "I'm... I have a very good sense of smell, Selene."

I tightened my quivering lips together, stung. "Bullshit." Then, louder. "If you think I'm being so stupid, you could at least tell me so without patronizing me."

"You think I'm lying." For the first time, I heard a note of anger in his voice. Anger at me.

I gasped, incredulous, and a rebellious tear slipped out to streak my cheek. "What else am Isupposedto think? You have 'a good sense of smell?'That'syour response? It doesn't even make sense!"

I pressed my hand to my mouth and looked aside, trying to keep it together. From the corner of my eye, I saw him moving toward me and my head snapped forward again. "Don't touch me."

For a second, he looked like I'd slapped him. Then his face relaxed to blank; only his burning golden eyes hinted at any crack in his composure. He kept his hands at his sides but took another step closer to me. His six foot plus form loomed tall above my own small one, but even through my distress, the vibe I got from him wasn't threatening. Instead, his voice was calm and deliberate.

"I don't lie to you, Selene."

The obvious contradiction of it threatened to let more tears break free, but I met his eyes. "I don't understand why you won't just answer the question."

Rafe didn't say anything for a minute, and I thought he must be trying to work out how to make his exit or something when he spoke, his tone slow and reluctant, as if he was speaking against his better judgement.

"I could... I could show you."

A shudder went through me, but he'd caught my attention. "Show mewhat?"

"It... I didn't..." Rafe ran his hand through his dark hair roughly as he sought the words, "I was planning to tell you eventually. But I didn't want to it to be like this. I don't know if you're ready."

He sighed again, resigned. "But you clearly won't trust me anymore unless I do."

The bald accusation hurt, but we both knew it was true. I didn't need to say anything.

He drew another deep breath, then stepped back, determination coming over his features. I jumped as he quickly shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it to the floor. His shirt followed shortly after, but when his shoes and belt followed I took a few more steps back, bewildered and emotionally raw.

"What are youdoing?"

"It's easier to undress first. Saves trouble later," he said shortly as his pants and socks joined the growing pile on the floor of my foyer. I was about to protest this sudden undressing —despite the fact that a significant portion of me reveled in the sight of his glorious, naked flesh— but then his underwear went too, and he stood up straight and still, closing his eyes.

I watched him, tense, my stomach an acidic knot, my chest tight with unshed tears. Still, I kept quiet, partly from being totally caught off guard, and partly out of sheer curiosity.

Rafe bowed his head and his dark hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes.

Into his eyes? I hadn't remembered his hair being that long before. But now... Now it was definitely covering the whole upper part of his face. The hair on his chest was likewise thicker than I remembered it, covering more of his muscled torso than I thought I'd seen just a minute ago. No, it definitelywasthicker and I realized suddenly that it was spreading all over his body.

Thick, black hair was growing over every bit of skin on him, faster and faster now until he was covered in a lush pelt of it. And that was not all, I saw. Muscles shifted and rippled under the dark covering and he let out a deep grunt —almost a growl— as there was a loud popping sound like someone cracking their knuckles.

He fell forward to all fours with a thud and I jumped, but made no other move. I was transfixed by the sight of his large, strong hands somehow warping into massive paws, the nails growing long and skinnier and black like the hair on his body. In fact, I was so intent on his hands that when I finally looked up, it was to meet the glowing golden stare of a massive black canine.

I blinked. A wolf stood in the hallway of my apartment, his head easily level with my shoulder, his eyes locked to my face. I stared back for a moment and noted how familiar that topaz gaze was, how little it had changed from a few moments before when a man had stood there instead.

"Oh," I said.

Then I passed out.

***

"Selene. Selene!"

Rafe's warm voice permeated my awareness and I noticed his calloused hand on my cheek.

Smiling at the touch, I opened my eyes. He stared down at me, dark brows furrowed in concern and a strange, foreign reserve in his golden gaze.

"Hey, you."

Relief passed over his features before they returned to a careful neutral.

"You fainted."

"Fainted?" I protested incredulously. "That's ridicu..."

Then, with a blink, it came back. The black wolf with the familiar golden stare standing in my foyer. I realized that I was lying on the couch and Rafe, who leaned over me carefully, was still naked.

There must have been some change in my expression because he sat back, gently removing his hand and giving me space.

Neither of us spoke for several seconds.

"Was that real?" I finally ventured, my voice small.

"Yes."

In other circumstances, I probably would have laughed at asking the question; what other explanation outside of psychotropic drugs or dreams was there for what I'd seen? Instead, I sat up carefully.

"Rafe," I formed my next words carefully, "What are you?"

The corner of his mouth curled in just a hint of wry amusement. "Can't you guess?"

"I need to hear you say it. Please." My own voice sounded unfamiliar, hard and uninflected. I couldn't be the one to speak the word just behind my lips; it was too crazy. I needed it to come from a source outside of my reeling head.

His face returned to that unsettling reserve and he went very still. He was silent for so long that I thought he wouldn't answer, but I didn't break the stillness. I waited, taught and determined, until finally he spoke, his voice as flat as mine had been.

"I'm a werewolf."

I felt all my breath sigh out of me in a rush, as if I'd been holding it. Maybe I had. My heart beat loud and fast in my ears, and as I tried to identify what emotion was storming its way through me, in the back of my mind I wondered if he was able to hear it too with his heightened senses.

I said the first thing that came to the forefront clearly.

"Well, I guess that's why you don't wear any silver."

Rafe blinked, then gave a surprised snort of laughter. "Yeah. That's right."

"Does it hurt you? How much does it take? What about it makes it so bad for you?"

I spoke the questions quickly, distantly interested but more to fill the space. I found myself filled with an anxious, jittery energy, my nerves jangling and confused. The questions helped distract from the sensation. Rafe watched me carefully and his voice and posture were smooth and deliberate, like you see with someone talking to a crazy person. I thought I might feel a bit like a crazy person.

"There are different theories why. But, yeah. It hurts us. Kind of like a bad allergy."

"'Us?'" I repeated. "So there are others like you? Other werewolves. Of course there are. That's why you specified–"

"Selene."

I stopped mid-babble and looked at him out of the corner of my eye. I realized I was unable to meet his eyes. Wolf eyes. He had always reminded me of something canine. I felt the urge to giggle wildly and held it back. If I started, I knew I would lose it.

"Selene, look at me."

I shook my head, mute. The command seemed to unlock something, and the sudden urge to run filled me, every muscle tensing in desire to flee. To run. To get the hell out of there. I was slipping and was pretty sure I was about three breaths from full-blown hysteria.

"Look at me." His deep voice buffeted me like a physical push and my head snapped around, my eyes meeting his golden ones. Stillness, like a blanket settled over me.

"I would never hurt you. Never. Nothing has changed that."

I knew he meant it; my inner voice attested his sincerity and a large part of me wanted to just throw myself into his arms and help him make everything simple again. But my rational mind was in full revolt, railing against this uninvited reordering of the world that I had lived in for the past nineteen years. It was too much, too fast to get my tangled thoughts around it without falling apart. I needed time, and space, to process this.

"I think you should go." My words were soft, all the panicked tension drained out of me. I had no difficulty meeting his eyes now, though I almost wish I hadn't for seeing the look of pain on his features, quickly wiped clear. I felt a sympathetic stab in my own heart, but I was resolved. "I need to do some thinking."

He nodded once, his face set in careful stone. "All right."

I closed my eyes then, breathing deeply, trying not to let my mind settle on anything. Time enough for that later. I could hear him moving around, collecting his clothes, dressing. I tried not to think about that either, for fear of changing my mind. When it was quiet, I opened my eyes.

He was hovering in the doorway, plainly wanting to say something more, but hesitant to do so. Seeing him so unsure made my chest constrict painfully; he had always been so confident before. After a minute, his need won out.

"I'm sorry," he said, "But you don't have to worry. I won't push you. When...ifyou're ready to talk, you can call me. I won't bother you before then. Take the time you need."

Then he turned and went to the door, his broad shoulders rigid with something I thought might be very close to anguish. Before shutting the door behind him, he said over his shoulder without meeting my eyes, "Please lock the door behind me."

Then he was gone and I was left with my snarled, and suddenly all-too-present thoughts. I felt like the biggest jerk on the planet, and shockingly, disturbingly alone. I scrubbed my hands over my face, casting around myself for something to which I could anchor my sanity, coming up empty.

Well, Selene,I thought to myself,What the hell do you do now?