CHAPTER 7

"Where do you think you're going?" a voice asked as Krey stormed down the corridor. Wolves bowed their heads, and Krey looked everyone in the eye, challenging them to stare back like what the human did when he was in the cellar. Then again when they were in front of each other at the gate. Krey dug fingernails into his palm and tried to think about something else.

"Hey," his mother yelled and matched his long strides. "Why did you cancel the hunt?"

"Because."

"Because what? Krey." Makena tried grabbing his arm, wanting him to slow down. Krey snapped it from her grip.

"Leave me alone," he growled. Brown eyes collided, and his mother matched his scowl. Krey continued down the corridor quickly and silently. His heart pounded in his chest; he feared his mother would see straight through him and know he had the dream.

His mother always knew when something was going on with him, but Krey was determined to keep the boy a secret for as long as possible.

He needed air to clear his head. Ever since he dreamt of the human, his wolf had clawed to get out to find the boys scent. Krey had tried to preoccupy himself with his duties, but as the sun lowered and the stars shone, his mind kept wandering back to those blue eyes.

When he was out of the institute and walking towards the gate, Krey's eyes glowed blood red in the dark. His wolf was just on the surface, and the guards backed away when the gate slid open. Krey looked at them as though he was ready to take a chunk out of their legs.

He stormed down the path made by years of wolves trampling over the grass. Krey's mouth watered as the wind rustled the leaves and brushed his skin.

He bent his fingers, aching for claws.

He stopped when trees surrounded him and let the natural sounds fill his ears. As his eyes glowed, his sight improved, seeing sharply in the darkness.

Krey stretched his arms above his head before crouching. He dug fingers into damp leaves and breathed in the earthy scent of the forest.

The woods smelt best after rainfall: muddy, crisp, and pure.

Krey inhaled three long breaths, lapping up the icy air before his wolf broke free. He kept his eyes closed, feeling himself transform, and biting back the pain in his spine as his bones cracked. Krey had shifted a million times. The pain soon became as familiar as breathing, and a reminder that werewolves were real, despite humanity painting them as a myth.

Krey dug huge claws into the mud and opened his eyes. He stood on all fours, sniffing the air, twitching his ears and feeling the wind on his tongue.

As soon as Krey was in his wolf form, he thought of the boy, and his wolf remembered the scent well.

Krey had to smell him again, so he ran.

The huge brown wolf with black patches galloped through the woods, over thick roots, between trees, and with his nose almost touching the floor.

Something excited his wolf. Krey knew by the way it made his body tingle that he smelt the human's scent, still lingering from when he walked home.

Krey ran and ran, never tiring and never wanting to stop until the scent was suddenly so strong, he skidded to a halt and frantically sniffed around a tree trunk. The human had marked his scent there, and Krey so desperately wanted to mask it with his own. He almost lifted a leg until he argued with himself to stop.

If enemies dared to get so close and smelt him and

a human mixed on a tree, they would know for sure that he had found his mate.

Krey growled deeply and reluctantly continued.

The longer he ran, the stronger he could smell humans, but most importantly, his own human's sweet scent, which was more profound than the rest.

Krey slowed when buildings sat in the distance. He kept to the shadows and made as little noise as possible.

He sniffed at the mud until buildings were close and he had to shift back. Krey's wolf whimpered quietly at the pain of returning to his human form, which was more excruciating than turning to his wolf.

He crouched on the floor for a moment to let his bones and muscles settle, then stretched his neck, arms and legs, cracking them and loosening them.

Krey stood tall in the darkness and heard faint noises of humans, spoiling the silence of the woods.

Lights from Crescent Town cast darker shadows bouncing from tree to tree, leaving the lighter areas exposed.

He dug black sunglasses from his pocket and hid under the hood of his black jacket. Krey walked casually and calmly out of the trees and along the cobbled path. He was very rarely in the town and

never thought he would be there to spy on a human- his mate.

Krey muttered miserably under his breath and followed the scent. He tried hard to be mad and angry, but the closer he got, the more he yearned to see the boy.

A group of drunk humans stumbled from a bar, and Krey almost shoved them out of his way. He resisted, not wanting to cause a scene. Humans gave him odd looks without him having to do anything.

Werewolves gave off an odd aura and humans used to be able to tell if they were around wolves just by how they made them feel. Now, humans didn't know why people like Krey made them want to run as far as they could because they now thought that werewolves weren't real. They didn't know he was a monster in disguise.

Krey kept his head down and followed the sweet scent, which was getting stronger with each street he passed. He was practically jogging by the time his instincts told him to stop.

Krey looked up, and a memory from the dream clouded his eyes. Books had surrounded the boy.

When his vision cleared, Krey read the huge gold letters above sliding glass doors.

"Crescent Library," he muttered, watching other

people walking out. With each person, his breath hitched, but they weren't his mate. Krey stared at the light, pouring onto the steps. The library did look inviting, especially when he knew the boy was in there. His scent leaked out of every crack of the brick walls.

Go in there, don't act like a damn pup, stay out of the way and just... Just... Krey gripped his hood.

He knew, when he saw his mate, resisting the temptation to sit right next to him would be unbearable. Krey loitered on the first step, then turned back towards the trees. Krey hovered like that for a few minutes until he had to remind himself of who he was.

I'm Alpha now. I get what I want.

Krey stared at the gold letters, scowling like they spelt something insulting. Fuck it, he thought and climbed the steps, two at a time.

Inside was warm, bright, and smelt of paper and to Krey's delight, his mate. He did not attempt to look at other humans and quietly made his way through the lobby to the central part of the library. For a guy who was almost six foot and five inches, and had an impressive amount of muscle mass, Krey was exceptionally good at not turning heads.

Well, he was good at that in the institute where werewolves were tall and big too and didn't sense that something was odd about him.

Krey fastened his eyes to the grey carpet and found an empty seat in the corner of the almost empty library. Once he was comfortable against the leather and calm enough to keep himself together, Krey looked up.

Through his sunglasses, he scanned the room.

Straight away, his eyes landed on a burgundy bobble hat with brown hair curling around the rim.

Blue eyes reflected the pages of a book and those dimples, oh those dimples.

Krey's composure melted away, and he stood back up. The boy only sat seven metres away on a couch surrounded by his homework. Krey wanted to step closer, yet bit his tongue to look elsewhere. He grabbed a book from the windowsill and slowly seated himself back in the chair.

He opened the book and pretended to read while he stared over the pages.

When Krey was young, his mother had talked a lot about the power of that first glance. Krey thought she was exaggerating. Now he felt that she hadn't expressed the compulsion enough. Every inch of him screamed for the boy to be close enough to touch. Every inhale was like breathing in steamed lust.

If people could see Krey's eyes under the glasses, they would be as black as the sky from the size of his pupils and just as heavy with desire. He chewed the inside of his lip, gripping the book until his finger throbbed.

Krey had hated the boy the night before. He hadn't cared at all whether the boy made it home or not.

Krey hadn't cared that tears soaked his face or that he trembled with fear.

Now, every time Krey looked at the boy's broken fingers, bandaged and in small splints, he cleared his throat to cover the sound of his heart cracking.

His eyes scanned up and down the human, noting every inch of him. The curve of his thighs in his jeans, the small hint of muscle under his grey knitted jumper, the veins on the back of his hands, the outlines on his neck, his freckly nose, his concentrated frown, his slightly pinked cheeks.

Krey saw it all, and immediately wanted it all.

He pursed his lips when the human tilted his head.

Krey leaned forwards, still holding the book to his face. The dream had become his reality, and he had woken up before the human could look in his direction.

Look at me, Krey thought, and the human did. His blue eyes flicked to Krey for just a second, then lazily back to his book.

Such a simple glance was enough. Krey's senses fizzed and dared to override him. Krey's heart smashed in his chest. If he had known how tough it was to be around his mate and not be all over him, Krey would have talked himself into staying at the institute.

But he didn't know just how much he would crave him. Krey had awoken something stronger than the heat of a fire, stronger than the pull of a tide, stronger than the glow of a full moon.

Krey wanted his mate. He wanted him so badly, his muscles hurt from keeping himself seated.

At least Krey now knew what he was up against.

Keeping his mate a secret was going to be harder than he thought, especially now that he wouldn't be able to stay away, even if he buried himself under a mile of concrete.

Mates would always find a way to be close, and Krey wanted to be so close that not even air could get between them.