Lone Girl (The Wolfling Saga)

LONE GIRL

Book Two

The Wolfling Saga

by Kate Bloomfield

Copyright 2014
by Kate Bloomfield

www.bloomfieldkate.com

Cover model: Erica Onley

Cover photographer: Natalie Paquette

Cover
design: Kate Bloomfield

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be used, reproduced, stored or tr
ansmitted by any form or means, whether it be electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author of this book.

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• Flamethroat (Book 2
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• Falling Ashes (Book 3
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• Jack Greenwood (Prequel: The Fire Mage Trilogy)
  
• Raeven Blacklock (Prequel: The Fire Mage Trilogy)
  

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German Editions

• Frost Arch (Buch 1 Der Feuermagier-trilogie)
  

Coming in 2015:

• Wild Girl (Book 3: The Wolfling Saga)
  

• Five: a novel
  

To everyone who has ever felt different.

This is for you.

‘Rose, there’s something I need to say. I don’t want you to give up your whole life for me. You’ve got so much ahead of you … so much to look forward to. You can’t know how you’ll feel about me in the future. You might wake up one morning and roll over to find an old man in bed with you, who can barely put a roof over your head. You deserve so much more than that. I don’t want to be selfish. I mean … you have school and family. But Rose … I
am
selfish and that’s why I’m asking you to give up everything for me. I can’t promise much, but I promise I’ll love you more than anything in this world. Will you run with me?’

~

If you’d told me a couple of months ago I was going to run away with a man twice my age who had broken out of jail and is now a wanted sex offender, I would have laughed at you. I would have thought you mad.

Life is unpredictable.

My name is Rose Goldman and … well … I
am
running away with a fugitive twice my age who is a wanted sex offender. Okay, I know it sounds bad, but unless you know the whole story I wouldn’t judge too quickly.

Most will believe what they will
hear on the news in the morning; that I was seduced by my former teacher, Thomas Stone.

I am a schoolgirl in their eyes.

I’m not ashamed. They just don’t understand. In fact, it was
I
who seduced Tom, not the other way around like the media will have you believe.

But that’s not all.
Every full moon Thomas and I change. It took nine years for me to come to terms with my illness, but thanks to Tom I don’t think of it like that anymore. It’s part of who I am now.

That is why Tom and I were drawn to each other from day one; we are both werewolves. In fact, I am his alpha.
Alpha Girl
, he had called me.

Tuesday – 28 days to go

Standing on the dark
lawn lit only by the waning moon, I scanned my surroundings for Tom. He’d told me to collect my belongings and meet him out the front of my house – by the old Ford Escort he’d once owned.

I hear a rustling in the next-door neighbour’s hedge. Maybe it was just the wind. 
Or a cat.

No. Tom
emerged silently from the bushes as ragged and filthy as ever. He looked defeated, tired and scared.

He paused, watching me, chest rising and falling rapidly. Everything seemed to progress in slow motion.

As soon as I saw Tom I dropped my belongings onto the grass and bolted across the lawn – launching myself at him. I couldn’t reach him fast enough.

Tom caugh
t me in mid-air and clung to me despite the fact that I had winded him with the force of my embrace. He held me a foot above the ground and buried his face against my neck.

He was shaking
and I heard a dry sob escape him. “Rose,” his ragged voice gasped. He said my name over and over. It was music to my ears. He shook as we embraced, though I couldn’t be sure if it was from exhaustion or happiness to see me. It felt as though my damaged, fractured heart was swelling to twice its normal size.

Placing me on the ground, Tom cupped my face in his hands and
crushed his lips to mine, kissing me feverishly. He was covered in dirt, leaves and twigs, but I didn’t care.

“You came to get me,” I muttered against his lips. “You’re here.”

He nodded silently, his hands stroking my face as if he was trying to memorize every curve.
He kissed me again and again.

Once
he’d stopped the much welcome assault on my lips, Tom studied my face, illuminated by the moonlight. He brushed his thumb over my cheek, wiping away the tears that slid down my face. I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying.

“Rose,” he crooned again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” I let out a shaky breath.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he said, kissing my nose.

“You’ll have a hard time trying to get rid of me now,” I chuckled.

He gave me a watery smile. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said in a raspy voice, as though he was on t
he verge of sobbing. “Let’s go before we’re spotted.”

~

I fell asleep in the car after only an hour of driving. I wasn’t sure how long I slept for but when I woke it was still dark outside.

Tom was holding my hand; he had been ever since we’d set off. Perhaps he was holding onto me so I wouldn’t change my mind and run away.  Maybe he feared I’d open the car
door and roll out of it like a scene in some ridiculous action movie.

Waking properly now, I licked my lips and yawned loudly, shifting in my seat; the seat
-belt was digging into my throat.

“You’re awake,” said Tom, smiling and glancing at me out of the corner of his eye whilst he focused on the road ahead.

“How long was I out?” I asked.

“Not long, only an hour,” he replied. “You were sleep-talking. I thought you were awake at first, until I reali
zed nothing you said made any sense.”

“Does it ever?” I replied with a smile.

He chuckled and squeezed my hand.

Tom’s face was still covered in dirt from the transformation two nights ago; he hadn’t had time to clean himself up, though he wore regular clothes so I assumed he’d gone home before coming to collect me.

“You went home?” I asked, scrutinising his attire.

Tom looked down at his clothes; he wore a red plaid button-up shirt and torn jeans along
with some old leather loafers. Tom didn’t have much fashion sense but that was one of the many things I loved about him; his mismatched clothes gave him a quirky edge.

He shook his head. “I couldn’t. The police are watching my house.”

“Then where did you-” I began to ask, before pursing my lips together. “You stole them?”

“I had to change … I figured the jumpsuit would be a little noticeable.” He looked ashamed of himself. “I’ve never stolen anything before.”

“Where’d you take them from?” I asked.

“The donation bin outside of the thrift store.” Tom gave me an apologetic look, as though he expected me to be deeply offended.

I laughed. “Oh, you fiend.”

Tom did all of his clothe
s shopping at the thrift store. The contents of his wardrobe was often destroyed or lost in the woods, which meant he had to replace his outfits regularly. I’d never had this problem as my parents would tie me down during the full moon so I could not escape and run amok. Of course they’d slipped up on more than one occasion and I’d escaped before.

“I took a few things,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. I looked into the backseat where I saw a sports-bag that was overflowing with second-hand clothing. “I figured it would be a while before I could go shopping,” he added.

“I’m sure you’ll be forgiven,” I said.

The morning light was beginning to crest over the mountain range when he spoke next.

“So … are you going to call your parents?”

“Why bother?’ I said, nonchalant.

“They’ll be worried about you.”

I shrugged
, but Tom pressed me further.

“They’ll think I’ve kidnapped you.”

I smiled. “Maybe you did.”

Tom gave me a sly grin. “I think it’s the other way around, my love.”

True, it had been I who pursued the relationship, not Tom.

“What am I
supposed to tell them?” I asked, looking out of the passenger window. “
Sorry for running away? I don’t know when I’ll see you again?
”

“Just tell them you’re okay
and that you’re safe,” Tom replied.

I fished in my pocket for my cell phone. It was yet to ring
, but of course my parents would still be asleep. In a few hours they would wake to find me gone, along with my car and belongings.

“You can’t call them from your cell phone,” he said at once.