2. Morgan

Chapter 2

Morgan

"How hard could it be?" I sneered, my voice full of sarcasm, mocking myself. Yep, because those had been my fucking words. And now here I was, knee-deep in tick-infested grass, covered in sweat, mud, and clearly not enough sunscreen, judging by the pink hue of my exposed skin.

I slapped another mosquito, my face scrunching up in disgust as it left a smear of blood across my arm. "Seriously, what possessed me to do this?!" Because literal demonic possession was the only reason I could come up with for why I thought camping in the middle of nowhere by myself was such a good idea.

When I thought back to the night I came up with this half-baked plan, I couldn't even understand why I thought I would enjoy camping. I was good at things like math and reading, indoor activities, but the blame for this particular debacle fell entirely on my love of binge-watching reality shows.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and I'd been four episodes into season two of Wild and Brave . I'd started season one on Friday night after I'd finished the final episode of Becky's Bake-Off , and this just happened to be suggested by the streaming app. Sure, why not , I'd thought. Ahh, how na?ve past-me had been, no clue how far off the beaten path that choice was about to take me.

So, there I was, season two, episode four, and I was watching this twenty-something omega tromp through the bush. He'd been tasked with setting up a camp for the night, but he was failing in spectacular fashion. He'd stubbed his toe on a tent peg, tripping and toppling over straight on top of the tent. He'd bombed on lighting a fire, even with a whole pack of matches, and he'd had to eat his can of beans cold. Barf. But you see, the whole time I'd watched this man botch everything, I'd started whispering to myself, " Pfft, I could totally do that ." And then… I'd said those cursed words. " How hard could it be? "

The next morning, I'd driven over to a co-worker's place and borrowed everything I thought I would need for a night in the woods. I had a massive pack strapped to my back, with a tent, a sleeping bag, a mini camp stove, and a bunch of food and water. It was so damn heavy that my back was aching, my legs were on fire, and the pair of ill-fitting hiking boots I'd also borrowed had gifted me with a matching set of blisters on my heels. Why didn't I just pick some park close by? I could've just spent the night in the Fairhome Tent & RV Park, but noooo, I had to drive a couple of hours to this "special" forest. What made it special? Who the fuck knows! It was what my heart picked while staring blankly at a map.

What I didn't get was WHY?! It wasn't like I was some testosterone-fueled alpha who couldn't say no to a challenge. I could've just moved on to episode five and eaten another tub of ice cream. This impulsive nonsense wasn't like me at all .

And as for the question, " How hard could it be ?" Uhh, turned out the answer to that was really freaking hard. There was zero chance of me surviving out here for the night. I stopped right there on the edge of the long grass, staring into the dense forest. There was no path that I could distinguish through the trees. I heard the tinkle of water running over rocks, the buzzing of a fat bumblebee. Even now, I still felt this insane urge to keep going.

Groaning, I pulled the folded-up map out of my pack's side pocket and traced a finger over the area I thought I was probably in. When no magic route jumped out at me, I took my glasses off and cleaned them on my shirt. Nope, that didn't make my path any clearer. Go figure.

"You know what?" I shouted into the woods at large. "Fuck this. You suck, nature! I'm going home."

I turned around, fully prepared to stomp the hell out of there, except my eyes snagged on something on the other side of the creek. I blinked once, twice, certain my eyes were playing tricks on me. Was that… a dog?

Sure enough, a darkly furred canine of some kind stood there staring at me. Its eyes were a starling green color. My lips turned up at the corner, and a high-pitched giggle escaped my lips. I'd never really been a dog person, but there was something about this dog that made me feel all warm and squishy inside. "Hey, buddy. Where's your owner?" I looked around for some other hiker, who could possibly direct me back to where I'd left my car, but there was nobody there. "Are you lost?" I asked the big adorable puppy, as if I expected him to answer. The dog's ears perked up and he wagged his tail, and another giggle slipped out.

Except a tiny voice whispered in the back of my mind. Not a dog… A wolf .

Oh. I probably should've been shitting myself, running the hell out of here, but there wasn't a single drop of fear in me. I felt… warm. Curious. Possessive? Huh, that was a weird reaction to running into a wild animal. I'd have to bring it up in my next therapy appointment.

And then the wolf seemed to balk suddenly, and his head dipped, a low whine erupting from his throat, before a convulsion tore through his body. I gasped, stumbling forward a step and reaching for him, but… then he was standing on two legs, not a wolf, but a man. There was no question in my mind that the wolf was the man, the man was the wolf. He had the same vibrant green eyes, and my heart told me it was true. He was naked—wowzah!—and he looked… furious . He growled at me, way meaner than the wolf had been, before he turned away and stomped off into the woods, leaving me with a glimpse of his sculpted ass.

"Mine," I whispered, staring after him with longing. Suddenly, this camping trip made a lot more sense.

"He's mine," I said, stating it as fact.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I don't think I quite understand," Dr. Hildahl said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with one long finger .

I nodded, glad for the excuse to say it again. "I said, he's mine." It made my body all tingly when I laid claim to him like that.

"No, no," she said, frowning. "Can you repeat the part about the…" She glanced down at her notes, as if making sure she got the word right. "Wolfman?" Her voice pitched higher at the end as she peered up at me over the rim of her glasses.

"Oh, sure." I grinned, sitting back in my chair with a blissful sigh. "He was so beautiful, with his green eyes and this deep brown fur, like dark chocolate. It can't possibly be as soft as it looks, but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough."

"Okay, so… he was a wolf." She nodded, relaxing a bit as she added a few more notes to the pad in her lap. "Wolves are fairly common in the woods around Fairhome. Just so long as you don't get too close, you should be okay."

"Well, he was a wolf at first, but then he transformed into a man, like poof ! Or more like snap , I guess. The transformation sounded quite painful, actually." Why couldn't she understand? It wasn't like it was rocket science or something. Probably just, like, biology.

She sighed, frowning. Dr. Hildahl was usually really good at keeping her expression kind of flat. This was the most emotion I'd ever seen from her. "You know, I understand that you believe you saw a wolf turn into a man, but… I can't help but notice that you wear glasses. Maybe it's time to get your prescription updated. What do you think?"

"I think you're not listening to me. I know what I saw. He was a wolf, then he was a man, and he's mine !" I huffed, my frustration threatening to overtake the bliss I'd been riding since my camping trip.

I'd barely been able to think about anything but him since I first laid eyes on him. I dreamed about him every night—X-rated porn-type dreams—and I was so distracted by thoughts of him all day that I might have accidentally hung up on a customer or two at work. I could just claim technical difficulties, though. It was a call center, so it happened all the time.

I'd even started a list of potential names he could have, since he hadn't stopped long enough to introduce himself, and I had to call him something. So far, I had Raphael, Alejandro, and Adonis, but just like with Rumpelstiltskin, I figured I would hit on the right one eventually. "Hmm, Rumpelstiltskin," I murmured, trying it out as a potential name for tall-dark-and-grumpy. "I could call him Rumpy for short. "

"Pardon?" Dr. Hildahl asked, eyebrows slowing inching higher and higher until they disappeared behind her fluffy bangs.

"Oh, nothing." I waved her off. She didn't believe me, so she didn't deserve to have an opinion about the list of names.

She probably thought I was hearing voices now. She scribbled madly on her trusty notepad, and I imagined her using words like "delusional" and "psychotic break." It would be so much easier if she could just take a second to consider the fact that I might be right. She had to see how it wasn't just coincidence that I ended up in the woods at just the right place and the right time. What were the chances that I would be watching that reality show and come up with the stupidest idea that I would like camping?! Ridiculous, seriously. And then to end up right there, in that middle-of-nowhere stretch of forest, right at the same moment that he would be there. I would sooner win the lottery than find my wolfman. Unless… it was my destiny . *Swoon* My man was soooo amazing! He was perfect and made just for me!

"Mr. Pettyfer? Morgan, are you listening to me?" Dr. Hildahl asked gruffly, leaning forward.

"Yeah, sure." I sighed, still half in my daydream about meeting my wolfy-poo .

She reached out and waved a piece of paper at me. "I would like you to take this prescription. It should help you focus a little bit, maybe clear up your thought process a little bit. What do you think?"

"Sure, uh-huh, whatever." I took the paper and shoved it into my pocket, standing from my seat. "Is our time up yet?"

Dr. Hildahl opened her mouth to reply, but the little timer she kept on the coffee table dinged. "Right, bye," I said, already headed for the door.

"Wait, Morgan. I'd like for you to take a few days off work and come see me again in a week, to check in and make sure your prescriptions are agreeing with you." She seemed a bit flustered, following me to the door. "I'm worried about you."

The smile I gave her was genuine. "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, but I promise you I'm absolutely fine. In fact, I've never been better."

I practically floated all the way to the elevator, imagining my wolf walking along beside me. I wondered if he would have to wear a collar when in the city, and would I get fined for having my pet off-leash? "Oh, Rumpy," I said with a sigh as the elevator doors closed behind me. "I hope you're housetrained. "

I was sure if I looked up this prescription online, I'd see it was an antipsychotic, but there was no need. As soon as I stepped out of the office building, I tore up the prescription into itty-bitty pieces and tossed them into a garbage bin at the bus stop out front.

Dr. Hildahl was right about one thing—I needed to take some time off work. I had another camping trip to plan.