10-26-2020, 02:14 AM
Sierra’s scent twisted quickly putrid. He knew it was because of him. Shit. He’d never promised anything. They weren’t a couple. It was the dream. The wolves. She had some notion of pack between them, but he wasn’t a wolf. Shit maybe he should be. They probably didn’t have female troubles.
She was angry. She should be. He’d probably judge her if she just continued putting up with his bullshit.
Nimeda burst out of the room (the other direction) almost as fast. In the blink of an eye, it was just Tristan alone with the doctor. What in the world just happened? The doctor eyed him, and the familiar scent of fear hung on the air. Tristan growled to himself, but it only made the doctor’s pulse quicken. He went toward the bathroom door as if to check on Nimeda, and Tristan turned in a circle.
He stopped near the exit. He could still smell Sierra’s path on the air. He could follow her, but not much longer. Yet Nimeda was holed up behind him. If he lost her now, he may never find her again.
Here it was again. Torn. Ripped in two separate directions. The path toward Sierra was what he wanted to be; the path toward Nimeda was what he could be. Wolf or troll; and he realized the maddening pulse drumming his ears was his own.
With a roar, he pulled the door so hard it yanked off the hinges. The splintering jerked the doctor to attention with a yelp, and Tristan pointed a finger at him.
“Don’t lose her. I’ll be right back.” He hopped the remains of the door and followed the fading trail after Sierra. Brenna hobbled on her gangly puppy legs after him.
She was angry. She should be. He’d probably judge her if she just continued putting up with his bullshit.
Nimeda burst out of the room (the other direction) almost as fast. In the blink of an eye, it was just Tristan alone with the doctor. What in the world just happened? The doctor eyed him, and the familiar scent of fear hung on the air. Tristan growled to himself, but it only made the doctor’s pulse quicken. He went toward the bathroom door as if to check on Nimeda, and Tristan turned in a circle.
He stopped near the exit. He could still smell Sierra’s path on the air. He could follow her, but not much longer. Yet Nimeda was holed up behind him. If he lost her now, he may never find her again.
Here it was again. Torn. Ripped in two separate directions. The path toward Sierra was what he wanted to be; the path toward Nimeda was what he could be. Wolf or troll; and he realized the maddening pulse drumming his ears was his own.
With a roar, he pulled the door so hard it yanked off the hinges. The splintering jerked the doctor to attention with a yelp, and Tristan pointed a finger at him.
“Don’t lose her. I’ll be right back.” He hopped the remains of the door and followed the fading trail after Sierra. Brenna hobbled on her gangly puppy legs after him.