Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

Fuck.

They’d fly all the way out from Colorado.

They’d try to get Jeffrey to understand why our time together was temporary. They’d turn this thing—this thing that I had been doing my damndest to keep casual for both our sakes’—into something that hurt.

They’d tear Jeffrey apart, however unintentional it would be.

Our remaining few months of happiness would be soured.

And I’d become…not a pleasant memory—a seasonal lover—but another in a long list of the tragedies that made up Jeffrey Prince’s life.

I wasn’t willing to let myself become a bad memory.

That’s asking too much.

Too much.

So, I refused to speak. At least not now. Even though they’d both clearly already cottoned on—at least a little as to what was going on. My growls quieted, and both my brothers continued to stare at me like they didn’t recognize me at all.

I swallowed the Pop Tart, even though it felt like wet sand. It scraped down my throat, choking me a little as Butters and Harry kept waiting for answers—scents…contrite.

I was doing my best not to feel guilty for snapping at them.

Even without the secret keeping, if I was being honest, Harry had every right to be annoyed with me. They all did. I mean, we were only in Maine because of me. Because I’d stood in front of Dad, the Pack Alpha, and quite literally begged him to let us set up a new compound here.

Things had gotten far more complicated after we’d arrived. After I’d begun following Jeffrey, from the shadows, and been unable to help myself when he’d been in danger. I’d stepped in because it was the right thing to do.

And everything that had happened since had been my fault.

Because I had very little self-control when it came to him.

And that had been before I knew anything about what he’d been through.

Before he’d caught me guarding him, and instead of smelling frightened, invited me into his home. Before he’d torn apart his hands when I’d run from him. So broken and lost and lonely. Before we’d had cheeseburgers together, shared laughter, and I’d returned to his home, because I couldn’t leave him again.

I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t, I couldn’t, I couldn’t.

And he was so happy when he saw my wolfskin waiting on his doorstep. He was so happy-happy-happy I was there.

So despite how out of character all of this was for me, I couldn’t seem to stop.

I couldn’t just leave him. What kind of alpha would I be?

He needed me.

He needed me and it hurt so bad—so, so bad that this couldn’t be forever. It was tearing me apart from the inside out and I could hardly breathe because of it. He deserved so much better than what I could give him. He deserved so much better than a half-mate and deception.

But it was all I had.

It was all I had.

Wearing my wolfskin, I dropped him off at work every day. I guarded him from outside the front door, listened to him charm the customers, competent as ever, his walls back in place. And when his shift was over I accompanied him home, and watched after him, because it was all I could do.

Sometimes Jeffrey pet me, other days he’d bury his face in my hair and hum beneath his breath. The same song he’d sang for open mic night. Voice angelic and sweet.

On the occasions when I had to leave while wearing my wolfskin, I would scratch at the door till he let me out. Since the first time I’d run off, Jeffrey always trusted me to return.