Nash takes me to a place called Corey’s Fry Shack, which is accurately named - it’s just a tiny little building near the boardwalk. We both order “animal style” burgers, which not only come with extra meat and a delicious tangy sauce, but also a huge paper plate of fries and a chocolate milkshake that’s so thick they don’t even bother giving you a straw, just a spoon with an extra long handle.We sit on the beach, balancing out food on our laps. The sand is warm against my legs and the ocean seems impossibly blue, stretching out toward the horizon like a polished opal.Neither of us speaks for a while as we tear into our burgers. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until Nash mentioned food, but I absolutely devour my lunch before starting on my chocolate shake.“I have to admit,” I say, licking a thick dollop of chocolate milkshake off my spoon, “this is pretty great.”“Didn’t I tell you?” Nash seems pleased with himself. “Best burgers in the world.” He smears a french fry
Nash, being from the area, knows a spot where we can cross the border into Mexico without much fuss. I was almost hoping that we’d need to shift into our wolf forms, because I’m curious about what Nash’s looks like, but then we’d have to leave the motorcycle behind, and it’s clear that Nash won’t be parted from his beloved bike.So we zip through some dirt roads, mostly hidden by a rocky outcropping. Nash waves at some guys at an outpost near a barbed wire fence, and they wave back, seeming to recognize him. I wonder, not for the first time, what else Nash hasn’t told me about his past.Why is he so familiar with secret border crossings? Why was his pack so willing to believe that he would be behind a murder plot? Why is he so unconcerned with my Omega status?None of that matters, though, because my first priority is getting somewhere safe. Now that we’re in Mexico, I feel like I can breathe a little easier. Wolf shifter packs typically respect national borders, and since I’m
We play in the waves until the sun starts to go down. It’s cooling off, and we probably shouldn’t be on a private beach after dark, so we make our way back into the shallows, climbing out onto the sand. Nash shakes himself off vigorously, and I laugh.Back in human form, we lay on the sand for a while, watching as the sunset paints the horizon in dazzling oranges and pinks. Sure enough, there are actual dolphins visible out in the water, their dark shapes jumping and twirling in the dusky light.“I suppose we ought to find you a place to stay,” Nash says, helping me up with one strong hand.“I actually saw a cute little cottage on our way to the restaurant,” I said, “with a sign in the window saying that it was for rent.”“Let’s go check it out, then,” Nash says. Back on his motorcycle, leaning against his back, I can see a tiny tuft of fur from the rabbit pelt peeking out from under his helmet. It’s pure white, with no stain or anything, even though he wears it in his
When I wake up the next morning, I’m cuddled up next to Nash, who’s sleeping soundly. His chest is warm, rising and falling with his breaths, and his hair smells like ocean air.I feel great, and he looks like he does, too. Nash blinks awake, smiling softly at me as he rolls over and runs a hand through my hair.“Morning, gorgeous,” he says, and I return his easy morning smile. “Right back at you,” I say. “You look great this morning. Really.”“I feel a lot better,” he says with a yawn. There’s a pinkness in his cheeks and a brightness in his eyes that I haven’t seen ever since he first picked me up.“That moon rabbit pelt must be some strong magic,” I say. “We both slept with it in the bed, and now we’re back at full strength.”“Uh, Sarah,” Nash says, looking confused. Then he points to the corner of the room, where he’d tossed his motorcycle helmet before climbing into bed with me. Poking out of the helmet is a tuft of white rabbit fur. He never put the pelt unde
I’m so proud of Nash for having the courage to return to his pack. We decide to wait a few more days to really gain our strength back, so we spend some time cuddled up in the cabin together and frolicking on the beach.I’ll miss Baja, but it’s clear that Nash belongs in San Diego, and if we go back there, I’ll still be able to go swimming in these incredible beaches and eat amazing seafood.Plus, I won’t need to learn Spanish. Nash has been doing all the talking, explaining to the lady who rented us the cottage that we actually need to leave but will pay her for the entire month. She seems sad to see us go, but puts her hands on our shoulders and prays a blessing over us in Spanish.It’s human religion, not werewolf magic, but it warms my heart all the same. Finally, it’s time to get back onto Nash’s motorcycle and head for San Diego. We take the scenic route, around cliffs and beaches, the sea air in our hair. He keeps the rabbit pelt in his helmet, and occasionally I cat
Nash sits quietly, his knees tucked up against his chest, his neck ringed by that awful silver collar. I keep shouting to him, but Ansel leads me back inside the pack house. With a wave of his hand, he dismisses most of the other men, then sends one outside to guard over Nash.“Now,” he says, turning to me, “you and I need to have a chat.”He sits down on a plush leather sofa and pats the spot next to him, indicating that I should do the same.I hate this guy, and I definitely don’t want to obey him - but he holds Nash’s life in his hands, so I take a seat as far away from him as possible.“What’s your name?” “Sarah,” I say.“I’m Ansel. I’m the Alpha of the San Diego pack.”“I know.”“I’m sure that Nash has told you all sorts of terrible things about me, but I assure you, none of them are true,” Ansel says, looking directly into my eyes. “Actually, he hasn’t said much about you at all,” I say, holding his gaze. “Well, that’s something of a relief,” Anse
My heart is pounding in my chest. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. We came back here so that Nash could get his home back, not so he could lose his life.“Ansel, please -”“Become my Luna, Sarah, and you can have everything you want.”But I know that’s not true. I want Nash, and if I agree to Ansel’s terms, I’ll never see him again.“I can’t.”“Very well.” Ansel looks disappointed. He stands up from the sofa and snaps his fingers, calling his henchmen back into the living room. “Prepare the prisoner for his execution,” he orders. “And alert the rest of the pack. They should be witnesses.”I want to scream and fight, but I need to think strategically. I pretend to burst into tears, blubbering about not being able to watch, and run out of the pack house.I race to the motorcycle and dig around in my bag until I find my phone. With shaking hands, I dial Arnold, glancing around to make sure no one is watching me.“Arnold! Quick, I need help!”“Sarah, w
“What a waste of time,” Ansel mutters as he shoves past me into the pack house living room. The chains are removed from Nash, though the collar that suppresses his powers remains on his neck.We sit on the leather couch, side by side, hand in hand. Ansel sits across from us, with his sister at his side. The rest of the pack fills the living room with excited whispering.“Be quiet, everyone.” Ansel puts his hand up, indicating that he wishes to get started. “Nash here is on trial for the attempted murder of my beloved sister, Amanda.”Amanda nods solemnly. “Amanda,” Ansel says, “why don’t you tell everyone what happened?”Amanda begins to speak, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she does. “A few months ago, I started to feel sick. Not, like, regular sick - like something was wrong with my wolf. I couldn’t shift, and I got weaker and weaker.”Murmurs of sympathy ripple through the pack.“I was laying in bed one day, and Juliana came in to visit me. I started coughin