Shift

Chapter Three

When Dean climbed into the truck, I slid as far away from him as the seat would allow. I refused to look at him, but I could hear his heavy breathing as he tried to control himself.

My heart beat faster. Just being this close to him was suddenly unbearable. My clothes chaffed and I wanted to take them off. I squeezed my legs shut and closed my eyes, counting to ten in my head.

We didn't speak the entire way back, but I felt his eyes on me every so often. I never turned, I just kept my eyes shut and continued to count.

Once we got back to the territory, I jumped out of the car before it had fully stopped and took off at a sprint for the house. I knew the others would unload my food and put it away for me.

I whipped open the den's door, barreling in. The bottom floor consisted of a bathroom, a huge sitting area, mud room and kitchen. Upstairs was all the bedrooms and bathrooms. Even though most of the pack preferred to sleep together, there were nine different rooms built. My bedroom was the only one that had an attached bathroom with locking doors.

Running up to my room, I headed into my bathroom to shower. Hopefully, a thorough cleaning would help me get my head back in check. At the very least, maybe it would clean some of my scent away. Maybe I should buy some scented soaps, to help disguise it?

Ugh. Who was I kidding? I could bathe in perfume, and they'd still smell me. After my shower, I dried off, heading back into my room to find something to wear.

My room had a window that overlooked the field and a small closet and a dresser. The walls were empty of artwork. I'd meant to buy some pictures but had never bothered. Maybe subconsciously I was afraid of making this place feel too much like home because one day I'd shift, and then Christian would bring me back to Stephen's territory to live out the rest of my days as a purebred werewolf puppy mill/science experiment.

I shoved that thought away. I wouldn't let that happen. Couldn't. Opening my dresser, I found one of the wolves' t-shirts and slipped it on. Like everything of theirs, it was too big and looked more like a dress then a shirt. I grabbed my black running shorts and slid them on. While I brushed the tangles out of my long blond hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, my stomach grumbled reminding me I needed to eat. Tossing my brush on my bed, I made my way to the kitchen.

The forest had provided the wood for our cabins. The sitting room had huge, vaulted ceilings and a gigantic stone fireplace. Mounted on the top of the fireplace—like a trophy—was a large moose head. The span of the antlers was so huge it looked as if they could have been my height. A large rug in shades of gray, red, and orange sat on the wood floor in front of the fireplace. An oversized sectional and Jonathan's larger recliner took up most of the space in the room. A gigantic TV was mounted on one wall, while a gaming system sat nestled on a wooden shelf beneath it.

Walking through the sitting room, I headed straight into my tiny kitchen. Since the pack shifted and ate in wolf form, they had no need for a kitchen and had built it for me. Cooking in it made me miss the monstrosity that was Logan's kitchen, with its granite countertop and state of the art appliances. But most of all, I missed the space. My kitchen was new and unique, but snug. Black appliances enclosed the small space, and a small sink sat below a window that faced the kill hut. Cal and Colt had constructed the countertop of river rocks that they'd collected. They'd blown me away when they'd first shown it to me. The stones glistened with shades of deep blues, smoky grays, and iridescent whites.

Sitting on top of the counter was my loaf of fresh bread. I opened the fridge checking to see that someone had put my groceries away. The fruit and vegetables were in their respective crispers, while Christian's chocolate pie sat on one of the shelves. Someone had scooped a chunk out of the middle—with their hand. Shaking my head, I shut the fridge. The pack knew I'd gotten that pie for Christian since it was his favorite. What a bunch of bullies. They seriously found any chance they could to remind Christian he didn't belong with us. They weren't helping my case of trying to get him on our side. Jeez, at this rate, with their complete disregard in the way they treated him, he probably couldn't wait to get back to California.