Cursed Wolf

Dalia couldn’t believe she’d k!ssed Tate on their first date. She’d planned to move slowly. The moment had seemed so right. She’d wanted it to happen. Was she crazy? Was she betraying herself?

Tate was sweet and charming and funny. Hank had been the same way in the beginning. She couldn’t trust her intuition anymore. The whole date had been amazing. She’d never been k!ssed like that before. She felt it from the tips of her toes down to the tips of her hair. It was like her whole body was on fire.

She lay back in her bed and let her book drop into her lap. Garfield was curled up at her feet, snoring heavily. She didn’t know if she was going to be able to sleep tonight with all the thoughts running through her mind.

She wanted to enjoy this experience with Tate. If he was her fated mate and things worked out in the end, then this would be the beginning of their lives together—the story they would tell their children one day.

She didn’t want it to be full of doubt and fear.

The next day, Dalia drove to Four Winds Gallery to deliver her latest painting. Marsha was desperate for anything more from her, and Dalia wanted to speak with her friend about what had happened on her date.

Dalia didn’t really know Tate yet. He could be hiding a terrible secret. She didn’t want to believe that about him. When she arrived at the Four Winds Gallery, Marsha met her at the door with a wide grin and an excited hug.

“How was the date last night?”

“It was good. I brought you this.”

Marsha gazed down at the landscape. Her mouth dropped and her eyes widened.

“How do you do it, Dalia? Every piece is a masterpiece.”

“You are too kind, Marsha,” she said, blushing.

“It’s true. The other galleries in town are jealous that I have you working with me.”

“You’re blowing smoke, Marsha,” Dalia said with a laugh.

She appreciated her friend’s enthusiasm for her work. She was grateful every day to have Marsha in her corner.

They walked inside the gallery and Marsha immediately found a spot for Dalia’s new painting. Patrons would see it upon entering.

“This one’s going to fly off the wall. Bring me more.”

“I have plans for at least three more paintings this week. But I’m a bit distracted.”

“What was he like? Absolutely handsome I assume.”

“He was all that and more. Really sweet and charming. He took me to the Captain’s Grotto, and we had a delicious meal. Then after that, we went for a walk and…”

“And?” Marsha asked, raising her eyebrows.

“He k!ssed me,” Dalia said in a rush.

Her body flushed with the same desire she felt the night before.

“I’m guessing it was amazing by the look on your face.” Marsha giggled.

“That’s the problem. I like him too much, and things are moving way too fast.”

“A k!ss on the first date isn’t moving too fast,” Marsha said. “Now get out there and make me some more paintings.”

Dalia laughed and hugged her friend one more time before leaving the gallery. On her way out the door she almost ran smack dab into her worst nightmare. His face was a cool mask, with a smirk bordering on a sneer.

“Hank! What are you doing here?”

“It’s a free country. I can go anywhere I want.”

“You aren’t supposed to be within a hundred yards of me,” she said, taking a step back.

“The restraining order reversed this morning. I can go anywhere I want now.”

“What do you want from me, Hank?”

“You went on a date with another man last night. You belong to me, Dalia. No restraining order or bullshit breakup is going to change that.”

“You were cheating on me the entire time we were together. With three other women.”

“You were supposed to be my wife. The mother of my children. And you let a little misunderstanding come between us.”

“How dare you? I never want to see you again.” She stormed past him, but he grabbed her and flung her around.

“Do I need to call the police?” Marsha said, stepping out of the gallery with her phone in her hand.

“It’s not going to make any difference,” Dalia said, r!pping her hand from Hank’s grasp. “Don’t come near me. I have a gun.”

She stomped back to her car and flung herself inside. She heard Marsha yelling at Hank on the sidewalk as she drove away. Tears streamed from her eyes. She had been so foolish, so blind. Her doubt crept into her heart and squeezed it like a vise.

A notification pinged on her phone. It was from Tate.

“What’s up?” it said with grinning emoji.

She let out a sigh and shook her head. Tate wasn’t Hank. She wanted to love again. She wanted to let herself get swept up in the romance of the moment. But she had done the same thing with Hank.

She didn’t feel like painting when she got home. She went inside and curled up on her bed, letting her tears flow freely onto the pillow. Garfield snuggled up beside her, purring like an engine and licking her hand.

She laughed at his bristly tongue. He always made her feel better. There was another notification on her phone, and she turned over on her bed to pick it up.

“I was wondering if you wanted to catch a movie with me at the theater. They have a comedy matinee playing.”

A funny movie sounded like exactly what she needed right now. They could sit in the dark, laugh, and eat popcorn. She could relax.

“When?”

“It starts in an hour.”

“See you then.”

She set down the phone and went to the bathroom to check her face. Her mascara was smudged from her tears. She tidied up and brushed her hair.This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

Things with Tate were easy and comfortable. She was already starting to see a difference between him and Hank. They had never gone out to an afternoon matinee to eat popcorn and laugh.

She fed Garfield and hurried to her car, and when she made it to the theater she sat in the parking lot, trying to gather her thoughts. This was just a friendly date in the middle of the day. No big deal.

She walked into the entrance of the theater and saw Tate standing near the ticket booth. He waved to her, his grin making her smile. He approached looking like he wanted to hug her, but he kept his distance.

“I’m glad we’re here together. I’d be stuck at home with my little brother or have to see it alone.”

“You live with your little brother?” They moved toward the ticket booth.

“Temporarily,” Tate said, rolling his eyes.

He bought them two tickets and handed her one. Then they went to the refreshments stand where he ordered a huge tub of popcorn and several different types of candy and two large sodas.

“What’s his story?” she asked, filling her cup with soda and ice.

“He is angry that the rest of us vetoed his vote about selling our parents’ property. Nobody wanted to stay there anymore, and we all got an even split. He won’t let it go, and he won’t use the money to get his own place.”

“Tragic,” she said, taking a sip of her soda.

“That is a perfect description of Blake.”

He raised his eyebrows to his hairline and they both laughed. They then found a spot in the theater, in the middle, near the aisle. They shared popcorn, waiting for the previews to start.

“He needs a purpose in life, direction. All he ever talks about is going back home and killing the Snow Queen.”

“The Snow Queen?”

“It’s the name of a mountain on our property. He never got a chance to climb it.”

Dalia studied his face. She could tell he wasn’t being honest. Was the Snow Queen another woman? She sat back in her chair as the previews started, trying to banish her fears from her mind.

She would need to spend more time with Tate to figure him out. There was something he wasn’t telling her and that didn’t sit right with her. But she’d picked up on it immediately. That was progress.