WOLF LOYALTY

The Watcher

**

The moment we get back, Rogers starts locking the doors and windows. I try to help, but he growls and grabs my wrist, not letting me leave his side.

I follow along until the entire house is secure.

Finally, Rogers seems to relax a little, but his eyes are still darting around everywhere.

“Rogers? What’s the problem? It’s probably just some tourist who doesn’t know this is a private island.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, who else would it be?”

I don’t know, but I’m going to find them.”

I certainly won’t be complaining about that.This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

I don’t particularly want my and Rogers’s alone time to be interrupted by misplaced tourists.

Ok. You go and tell them they’re on the wrong island. I’ll wait here.”

I’d like to go snorkeling, but it doesn’t look like Rogers’s nerves can take me leaving the safety of the house at the moment.

“Stay inside.”

“I will.”

Rogers kisses me before leaving, locking the door behind him.

It surely won’t take him long to find whoever it is, not with his wolf speed and smell.

There’s a computer in one of the rooms, which is set up like an office. I sit down and start doing some research on Seychelles.

I soon come across a list of privately owned islands. All of the hotels seem to have a similar list, which they display publicly, from the pictures I can see.

Those pictures send a chill down my spine.

Almost all tourists here will be staying in hotels. With the list of private islands, they will know full well that this area is off-limits.

That’s why Rogers was so worried.

Someone deliberately came here, knowing it’s private.

I glance once more out of the windows.

Maybe they got their map mixed up. Or maybe they figured there wouldn’t be anyone here, and they could get the place to themselves.

Somehow, I don’t believe either of those things.

Rogers thinks something is off, and I have no reason to distrust his instincts.

I’m sure that searching out the intruder will take an hour or two at most, but it’s almost four hours before Rogers returns.

I’ve already had lunch and I’m reading on the couch. It turns out this house has a fully stocked library.

I sit up straighter as Rogers comes inside. “Did you find them?”

“No, and I should have.”

He throws himself down next to me.

If it was a lost tourist or something, they would have been easy to find. Whoever it is, they’re deliberately hiding from me and doing it well. It’s not easy to hide from a werewolf.

What do you think they want?”

For now – nothing. They’re just a silent watcher at the moment. Perhaps they’re a pervert who wants to spy on a newly married couple.

“Should we call the police?”

“Not yet. I don’t want to involve the police if at all possible. The pack tries to avoid them whenever we can; they ask too many questions. It’s risky for our secret. Sooner or later, the watcher will either make a mistake or make a move. Whichever it is, I’ll be ready.”

That doesn’t sound entirely reassuring. “Are you sure?”

Rogers pulls me into his arms.

I would never let anything hurt you. Don’t worry, I’ll keep looking for them. They can’t hide forever. Or maybe we should just get out of here. We can book into a hotel.”

No way. This place is amazing. I want to stay. I’m not letting some creep ruin this for us. But you’re going to have to let me go outside. As much as I like this house, I’m not staying shut up here for our whole honeymoon.”

Agreed. How about some snorkeling? The water is so clear we’ll be able to see anyone coming from a mile off.”

Sounds good to me.

***

There are a number of sexy bikinis to choose from in the supplies, but Rogers insists I wear a thoroughly non-sexy swimming shirt over it.

Rogers … I feel like a nun,” I whine.

“You’re going to feel like a fireball if you swim without it. Trust me, being sunburned on a beach holiday is definitely not fun.”

“What about you? I don’t see you smothering yourself in suntan lotion or wearing one of these.

Werewolves are a lot more resistant to being burned – to most injuries, actually. I’ll be fine. And even if I wasn’t, we heal quickly.”

Being a werewolf is sounding like a better and better deal all the time.

“Rogers?

“Amelia?”

“Why do most werewolves choose to mate with their own kind?”

Usually because of the lying. Most packs don’t allow their members to reveal their identities to humans at all. Some make an exception if you marry a human, but even then, you’d have to lie to them for the entire relationship until you were married.”

“I don’t imagine that would go down too well.”

“No, not after lying for years. Most relationships end at that stage. That’s why a lot of wolves don’t even try to be with humans.”

Still, there must be others like me – who found out by mistake, or worked it out.”

There are a few, but the chances are quite slim.”

They might be slim, but for Raymond and me, that doesn’t matter. I already know, and there’s no other reason for me not to be with him.

Except that I still haven’t decided whether I want to risk telling him how I feel.

**

Over the next few days, Rogers and I thoroughly enjoy our honeymoon.

We snorkel and explore the island. We lounge on the sand, or on the deck. We explore each other’s bodies more thoroughly than we do the forest.

It’s a paradise… but there’s still the lurking worry of our watcher. Every now and then, Rogers catches their scent. He always hurries me back to the house when he does, and then goes searching himself.

Unfortunately, the watcher seems adept at hiding. Still, they’ve only watched so far.

I’m fairly certain Luke was right and it’s a pervert spying on us, hoping to catch us having sex in the forest.

We’ve deliberately avoided being naked in the forest for that reason. It’s a pity, as I would have liked to have Rogers take me up against a tree, but we’ve more than made up for that in the bedroom.

We’ve also found a highly useful rock formation quite close to the island. It’s one of our favorite snorkeling locations, and it blocks the views from all sides.

Once I convinced Rogers I’d be fine without my swimsuit for a few minutes, we quickly discovered the rush of having sex in the ocean.

What with being able to see right through the water, to see Rogers just as well as if we were on dry land, it’s one of the most intoxicating experiences I’ve ever had.

A week into our honeymoon, I wake up in the middle of the night to find Rogers gone.

He’s probably just gone to the bathroom.

Several minutes later when he’s not back, I’m forced to conclude that he’s gone out to look for the watcher.

Occasionally, Rogers will catch their scent while we’re inside, at which point he’ll rush out to search.

It hasn’t happened at night before, but I take it in my stride. I’m rolling over and trying to get back to sleep.

Sleep won’t come.

I suppose it’s not entirely surprising. Even though the watcher hasn’t yet shown themselves to be hostile, the fact that they’re trying so hard to hide themselves is worrying.

Stop being silly, Amelia. Rogers is a werewolf. He’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself. It’s the watcher who should be worried.

The creak of a floorboard draws me out of my thoughts.

I sigh in relief. Rogers. It’s too dark to see much except an outline, but I don’t bother turning on the light.

“There you are. Come back to bed.” He doesn’t respond.

Rogers?'”

The breath seems to freeze in my lungs.

That’s not Rogers.

I can tell from the way he moves. Rogers’s movements are fluid, like a cat.

The silhouette in front of me takes another step forward. The movement is undoubtedly human, with none of the werewolf grace I’ve become accustomed to.

I reach for the light, but the figure lunges, pulling the lamp out of my reach.

To open my mouth to scream.

I don’t know if Rogers can hear my scream from all over the island, but maybe he’s close enough that he’ll hear it. If he does, nothing will stop him from getting here to rescue me.

A hand clamps over my mouth.

I shriek and struggle, but I’m not a match for their strength. My heart is galloping so loudly that Rogers would surely hear it if he was here.

Rogers isn’t here, though.

I’m all alone with my attacker.

I close my eyes, praying that Rogers will be back soon. I want to ask the watcher what they want from me, but my voice is completely blocked by their hand.

I try valiantly not to faint. If I faint, who knows what they will do to me before I wake up? That thought is enough to keep me fighting.

I try to elbow them in the ribs, but the grip they have me in is awkward and I don’t manage to hurt them.

The more I writhe uselessly, the more terrified I become, but I can’t help fighting.

Maybe If I can just delay them, Rogers will arrive in time to pull them off me before they do anything.

I’ve never been so terrified in my life.

I want to scream at them, but only muffled Sounds get out past their hand over my mouth.

What do they want with me?