Bonded to a Werewolf

Chapter Nine:

I follow him through the forest, but this time he is not in his wolf form but his skin side. The term is odd, but that's what Falcon calls it. "My skin side..." He's said many times these last few days. I stare at him while we walk, and I'm not sure if he notices. But I do so without a care. He is very handsome, with curly brown locks over his head and expressive hazel eyes.

He turns to me, smiling slightly. We stare a little too long, and I realize it must be the bond working.

"How long until we get there?"

"Not long, about a two hour walk."

I frown, looking at him worriedly. He seems to know my thoughts before I've even spoken them out loud, and he nods.

"I know. If you want, I could shift?" He leaves the decision to me for obvious reasons.

I appreciate how considerate he is and realize how much he's done for me since we met. He has sacrificed so much for me and we've only known each other for a few days. But then...

I think of how he has supposedly drugged my food. I get that he only did so to help me, but it wasn't his right to do so. He's invaded my personal space and my chance to grieve. I just lost my aunt. The least he could do was let me mourn naturally. I can feel the damage lingering beneath the surface of my mind, and I know this won't last for long. I'll finally crumble to the pain. I'm scared, and when I look back at Falcon to answer him, I feel the fear settle at the back of my chest. It is there but calms down significantly. Maybe this bond between us will take the place of whatever he's put in my food.

"You can go wolf on me," I blush immediately. "I mean, you can shift."

He chuckles, placing our backpacks on the ground. "You'll need to carry them. Is that alright, Ray?"

"Ray?" I smile at him and nod, moving to put one of the backpacks on my back and the other in my arms. They are heavy, but I don't say anything about that. Knowing him as much as I do already, he would change his mind on morphing into his wolf if I mentioned how heavy the bags were. 

"I would call you Rayne, but it feels too impersonal."

"That is my name, Falcon. Why would calling me by my first name be too impersonal?"

He shrugs and decides to walk behind a large tree, the width of the structure enough to block him from my view. I hear the snapping of twigs, but it's probably his bones moving in place to fit his other form.

His large wolf walks out from behind the tree, a small whine blowing from his snout. His soft ash coloured fur blows gently with the breeze around us, and his golden eyes stare at me like a child would when wanting to be held.

I swallow back the fear and disbelief at seeing this happen. I know now it is the drugs he has been putting in my food helping me transition into this new reality. If I wasn't drugged or bonded to Falcon, I am sure I would be running for the hills right about now.

But the look from his wolf causes my heart to flutter. Not in fear, but in adoration. I've never had a pet before. The urge to run my hands along his fur is strong.

Pet?

I almost laugh. I just compared Falcon to a pet.

He whines again, but this time speaking. "Why are you staring at me that way?"

I walk forward with brave intentions. But when I stand much closer to him than before, I feel the fear rise.

Yet when my eyes meet his, I know my fear is unnecessary. We are bonded, which means if I get hurt, he does too. I am in good hands--or paws.