THE LAST WEREWOLF

CHAPTER 9 (Avery)

Avery's thoughts swirled inside her head as she pushed her plate aside and dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. She took a slow drink from her wineglass and allowed the red liquid to tantalize her taste buds as she stared long and hard at Dorian. He sat across from her at the table in the dining room of his log cabin, looking back at her with those gray-blue eyes that gave him a formidable presence, along with his chin and jawline, as if hardened steel undergirded his facial features, fortifying the rest of his bone structure. He had shaved, giving his cheeks a smooth, yet sharpened angle to his appearance. Again, he wore the silver ring with its compass points aiming in the four main directions. He had mentioned that the piece of jewelry gave him a sense of true north, and last night as she leaned against her SUV, he had told her it pulled him toward her. She sensed the magnetic attraction as he shoved his plate aside and rose from the table, dressed in blue jeans and a charcoal gray T-shirt that hugged his body in all the right ways.

He stood before her at a slight angle, his lean core and broad shoulders presenting the perfect V-shape that came from exercise and diet, usually meaning he stayed active before and after his reps in the gym. Movement was a way of life for him, as it was for Avery, too.

She did like to snack on peanut M&M's while typing away on a story. That was her most obvious weakness, along with ice cream now and then. Those indulgences prompted her to make an extra lap around the park during her morning jogs. She couldn't imagine Dorian eating anything other than grilled chicken and asparagus, but tonight, they had feasted on steak and new potatoes, the little spheres sliced in half to make one seem like two. He texted her what was on the menu, and she had replied with a wide-grin emoji, which she now felt might have come across as a little too eager.

Dorian's gaze never left Avery's as he rounded the table and took her by the hand. The bold move caused a shock of surprise to sweep over her, but she didn't pull away. She couldn't if she tried.

"I thought we could unwind on the patio by the fire," he said, leading her through the French doors and out into the star-studded night. The celestial lights twinkled against the deep purple sky that was as close to black velvet as it could be under the crescent moon that was waxing stronger with each passing day.

Dinner had been at seven, at Dorian's log cabin up on the mountains, in an open clearing surrounded by whispering pines and cedar. A few spruce trees and other varieties dotted the landscape, mixed in to create an atmosphere of seclusion and tranquility. On the far side of the house, Avery could see the front of their vehicles, parked next to the cabin with a paved driveway trailing back between the trees. It seemed like an illusion, yet here she was in this all-encompassing moment. It was her and Dorian and the forest. The mountains and the seclusion. An intimacy that felt right. The underlying passion was dying to unleash itself on the two of them like the flames flickering in the firepit, licking the cool air with a hiss and a crack of kindled logs.

With a casual, yet sensual gleam in his eye, Dorian gestured for Avery to sit on the end of one of the lounge chairs next to the off-white stones that encircled the pit. She felt the heat from the fire and from his gaze. The orange flames reflected in his eyes, giving him a look that appeared almost supernatural. She glanced down at the ring on his finger and remembered seeing the hint of a scar beneath the silver. Last night, it had looked red and fresh, but tonight, it wasn't there at all, which gave her pause.

Dorian slid his chair closer to hers and sat knee-to-knee, facing her, the angle of his cheeks cast in a shadow by the fire behind him. "Tonight, should be about us," he said, staring at her, his lips pressing together to create a firm air of smolder about him.

Avery diverted her gaze to the flames, felt a quiver run down the back of her neck. "The fire is a pleasant touch." Her heart pattered, beating against her chest with a resilience that caught her by surprise. She had expected to keep control of her physical response to his presence, but his moves were so bold and... and... welcomed, wanted. Yes. She wanted him to make the moves that bridged the gap between them. She needed him to. Despite that, his actions seemed too direct to be true.

As the night pressed on, she kept hearing unusual sounds coming from the forest surrounding them. Like clicks and clacks. Squeaks of something oil deprived, which seemed odd. The more she focused on Dorian, the more those noises faded into the background. All she could see were his eyes, shadowed from the fire on his left, lit from the other side by the back patio light. It was like she saw two sides of him, like he possessed two opposing forces on the inside of him, darkness and light.

He held her hands and drew her closer. "I won't be shy. I've wanted you ever since that night."

"What night?''

"You know what I'm talking about." He leaned in and their lips almost touched, electricity sparking between them with a passionate intensity that shattered the illusion in Avery's mind.

"Avery?" Dorian said, pulling away. His mouth moved, but it wasn't his voice. It was a woman's. How could that be possible? "Snap out of it."

"Huh?"

"That story isn't going to write itself," Lexa Nash said, her condescending eyes zeroing in on her as Avery sat at her desk, her fingers hovering above the keyboard. Those sounds that had broken through her daydream when she and Dorian were at the most intimate moment came to life with a sudden rush of keyboards, fingertips, squeaky chairs, and smirky glares from her coworkers. "I thought I told you to ditch that story." Lexa nodded toward the monitor screen.

Avery glanced at the title of the document she had opened. My Hero and the Wolf. "Oh. I was just... recording my experience. That's all. Like a journal."

"It's a story that will never see the light of day." Lexa folded her arms and stared at her, a slight wag of her head. "You're sticking to this encounter you say you had? With this wolf and whoever this hero guy is. You believe it yourself?"

"I was there."

"Right." Her boss pursed her lips and sighed. "The only way that story will ever make a news line is if it's corroborated by someone else. Or on video. If you like, you can set up a camera in the woods and use yourself as bait to lure the wolf out. Maybe your hero will save you? Maybe he won't. Regardless, we'll have some hard evidence of the creature's existence, aside from eyewitness accounts."

The suggestion seemed like a taunt, not like an actual recommendation. A wave of insecurity and anxiety flew over Avery. Her hand couldn't get to the mouse quick enough to save her progress and close the document. With her work tucked away from prying eyes, the article she had been working on in the background revealed itself on the screen. It only had a title and a few words she hoped that might grow into a full-length story, documenting the encounter of the hikers and the wolf up on the forested mountainside. She had to reel in her daydream about romancing the stone with Dorian and rein in her focus on the story sanctioned by Lexa. The thought made her chuckle.

"Something funny?" her boss asked.

Avery shook her head, suppressing her delight. The stone in her romantic daydream must have been Dorian's smoldering eyes and chiseled chin. "Nothing. No. Just lost in my thoughts."

"Well. Those thoughts better turn into a story soon if you want it to go into Monday's edition." Her hands went to her waist. "Unless you want one of these up-and-coming reporters to steal your slot?"

"Oh no. I'll get it to you by..."

"End of day tomorrow. I want plenty of time to proofread it and give it back to you for revision."

With that, Lexa locked her office door, then strutted down the aisle between the desks, disappearing around the corner into the lobby and then out into the bright sunlight that was lowering in the sky since it was ten after five. When the exit door closed behind her, the light she had let in vanished, waking Avery up from all the things drawing her into a dreamworld. The story Lexa wanted wasn't speaking to her at the moment, but she would have to talk to it if she wanted to keep her job. Of course, that wouldn't happen today. Without adding another word to the open document, she saved it, closed it, and then logged out of her computer. She had a date tonight. Work could wait till tomorrow.

She just wondered if the real thing would be anything like what her overactive imagination craved. Only time would tell. But a girl could dream, couldn't she?

Yes. She could.