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"It was probably just a fox or something," I murmured to Rom, carding my fingers through his thick fur. His hackles had gone down, but he was still holding himself stiffly, ready to spring into action at any sign of trouble.

The longer we stood there, staring at nothing, the more foolish I felt.

Why are you always so dramatic?

You live in the woods, of course there are wild animals out there. You know how many coyotes are in the area.

Look at you, running away because something made a noise.

You're such a baby.

Pathetic.

The voice in my head changed with each self-recriminating thought until all I could hear was him. Aaron. My skin crawled where he'd touched me, and just like that, the crash I'd been expecting all day hit me.

I saw him around town, of course. Hard not to when living in a town of ten thousand people. But it was always from a distance. I went to work and I came home, with stops at the coffee shop and grocery store. I didn't go out to eat, I didn't socialize, so there was no chance of actually being close to him. Today was the first time in over a year that we'd been in the same place.

My knees wavered and I sank down, sitting on the top step of my back porch. Romulus, sensing my distress, whined and gave up guard duty to lie beside me, his giant head resting in my lap.

"What's wrong with me, Rom?" I whispered, petting his soft fur. "I'm supposed to be stronger than this. Why do I keep letting him get to me?"

Unfortunately, my dog didn't have any wisdom or advice to offer, but he squirmed closer until his body wrapped around me, head still resting on my leg.

We sat there together, staring into the darkness, and I knew there would be no sleep for me tonight.

Chapter 3

Typhon

Sad.

He hurts.

Go to him.

Mine.

Words battered at the desperate pain and gnawing hunger tearing me apart. I knew words. I'd known them once. Before. Before the betrayal and the needles and knives that burned and froze and changed.

Words meant nothing. I could smell him. Spring rain and soft earth and things that grow, fresh and pure. Like nothing I'd ever smelled before.

Mine.

No.

The wild thing roared within my head, throwing itself against the weak cage I'd wrestled it into. It wouldn't hold. It never did. Too much pain, too much hunger. There were other animals close by. I could catch one easily. Subdue it. Break it. Rip it apart and finally sate the emptiness in my stomach.

No. That was the beast. I couldn't let him control me.

A soft sound slithered through the war raging inside me, something that called to both sides of me.

A tiny sob, nearly lost in the chill breeze sweeping down from the mountains.

The man on the porch was crying, hunched over the massive dog that had caught our scent before.

Go to him! Go now! Mine. Ours. He hurts.

We couldn't, though. Not like this. Not hungry and broken, covered in old blood and new wounds that ached and pulled and kept us from hunting. No one could see, or the hunters would find us again. They searched; we heard them far away, but not here. Here, we were safe. He was here.