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Vince hadn’t had time to see what Serena’s reaction was to his gift. It was Saturday, and he’d had to get back to his mother, but he was sure Serena would love the roses. They were the prettiest in the grocery store and he’d picked out the vase himself. Clean, pure glass. Just like Serena.
He hadn’t had the nerve to write his name on the card. He knew she liked him. She’d been nice to him every time they’d met, but it was too soon. It would be improper for him to make a move until they’d spent a little more time together.
Screw it. It wasn’t that it would be improper or wrong. He was scared. His father would have had a field day with how scared he was every time he tried to tell her how he felt. How he started to shake and got a lump in his throat.
Stop it! Stop listening. His father was dead—he couldn’t tear him down anymore. And his mentor had told him over and over again not to listen to the voices of the dead. He wasn’t a spelltalker—he was a dreamwalker with infinite possibilities on the dreamscape.
But, what if she rejected him? What if she got that look in her eye that said he was weak? He’d been fretting about it all day. Should he tell her? He’d seen that look too many times in his life—from teachers, his parents, other girls. There was no way to defend against that look, the judgment had already been made—he sucked.
But Serena was different from the others. He’d done his research. Like him, she’d grown up in a family of shifters. Like him, she had to feel the resentment moving under her skin, just as much as a wolf. Never emerging, but always pushing and surging with hate.
It was after six now. Dinner was over and Mother was finally settled in front of the TV with her third glass of wine. Instead of watching Carousel for the hundredth time, he’d told her he had to run an errand for the shamans’ circle and gotten out of the claustrophobic room with all its faded memories. He’d driven the thirty-plus minutes from where the family cabins were on one side of the compound to the top of the ranch, where the guest cabins were located. He’d just check in on Serena and see how she was doing. See if she liked the roses.
And maybe, just maybe, once he saw how grateful she was for the flowers and attention, he’d tell her they were from him.
He took the turn off the main ranch road, heading for the guest cabins. He drove past the thick rows of pines and spruce, imagining how she’d smile at him and tell him how nice he was. How he was the reason she’d decided to take this job and move out here. But as he drove closer, he saw a large black pickup parked in front of her cabin. He backed up his car and parked behind the very first cabin in the row. Being careful not to slam the door when he got out, he snuck along the row of cabins, keeping to the shadows, until he was in his hiding spot in the bushes underneath Serena’s living room window.
He peered in.
There she was, looking sweet and innocent in a sleeveless dress, her long black hair shimmering in the light. She laughed up at one of the Wulfric twins—Gabe or Sam. Vince could never tell which one was which, and he didn’t care. Serena pointed to a sweater lying on the kitchen table right next to his vase of flowers. The man handed it to her, smiled, and said something that made her throw her head back and laugh. She picked up her purse, and they left out the front door.
Hot anger boiled up inside him. His wolf howled and fought to get out.
Fucking shifter was taking her out, and all he could do was...nothing. He could do nothing.
He turned his back to the cabin wall and sank to the ground, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain of seeing Serena, sweet Serena, with another man.
His wolf wanted to tear Wulfric apart, but the beast couldn’t manifest on this plane. He’d have to wait until tonight, when he’d run like a real shifter over the dreamscape, and see if he could find out which twin was poaching his girl.