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  She took a risk and looked at his card. She instantly regretted it. Printed in raised letters was the name, Frank Richards. Mia's heart sank as she ran the transaction, just looking at the man out of the corner of her eye. She brought him back the card, tossing aside any hope of even starting a conversation with him. Like all her thoughts of Rowan, this one was just another dream, though she had thought for sure that this time he would be real again.

  The man took his card and gave her a small nod as he stepped out of the booth. Mia felt him almost brush against her as he walked towards the door. She could feel her face growing hot. How could she have been so foolish even to think that Rowan would be all the way out here? They were miles from their hometown. After his recovery, Rowan could have been taken anywhere. That was the curse of being a child, never truly having a say in where you ended up until you were much older.

  Mia's shift finally ended. Louise let her keep the tips she made, which wasn't much. Still, it was maybe enough to buy dinner. Mia stepped into the chilly air, realizing that she wasn't that hungry. She kept thinking about Frank Richards and knew there was something strange about him that she just couldn't shake. He had looked so much like Rowan, and as she wandered down the sidewalk she looked at everyone who passed by, hoping that she could get just another glimpse of him. He was already looking foggy in her memory, and she was worried that she would lose him forever, once again.

  As the sidewalk turned into a corner, Mia stood and watched the other side of the street. She recognized someone, but it wasn't Rowan. Her feet turned into concrete as a tall, burly, bearded man walked angrily down the other side of the street. Grey.

  Mia's heart raced. How the hell did he find her there? And so soon? She knew she had to get back to her place. She needed to get her things so she could leave again. Without another thought, she rushed across the street, opposite to where she had seen Grey. She was so caught up in her thoughts, that she didn't see the large logging truck approaching her from the left. Mia's eyes widened. She wouldn't make it. She'd die here in the middle of this strange town on a strange street.

  But something grabbed her, and pulled her back. A firm hand gripped her arm, and for a second Mia was weightless as she was brought back effortlessly to the sidewalk. The truck blared its horn as it disappeared down the street. Mia caught her breath, still feeling the warm touch of the hand clutching her. She looked up at her savior, worried that she’d be staring at Grey’s face. But it wasn’t Grey at all. It was Frank Richards, watching her with those sad hazel eyes.

  “Thank you,” Mia said. The sound of her voice seemed to transform Frank somehow. His expression softened, and became more compassionate, with a twinge of sadness. It was as if he had been waiting to hear her voice for a very long time. With a sudden jolt, however, he tore away from her, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

  “Of course,” he said quietly, his words rushed as he bounded across the street.

  “Wait!” Mia called out to him. She just had to know the truth or it would torment her for the rest of the night.

  But he didn’t come back. Mia watched as he kept his hands in his pockets while he stepped into the nearby woods. For one moment, he turned to look at her over his shoulder. It had to be Rowan, she thought. It had to be.

  The she remembered that she had seen Grey; the reason she had run in the first place. She looked only to find that he had also disappeared. Mia dismissed it as an illusion, though the vision of him still haunted her.

  Mia threw her apron over the small counter space. She felt strange, an odd disturbance joining her in the room, almost like a shadow. Looking around her loft space, it was easy to feel creeped out. Wandering to the two windows near the entrance, she pulled apart the ragged curtains to stare out into the street. What am I even looking for? She asked herself, even though she knew that deep down there was an answer. Her eyes were searching for a handsome, muscular man, with chestnut hair. She could still feel the imprint of his hand on her arm, his grip carrying a sense of urgency. He was only trying to save her, but Mia thought for a moment he had touched her as if he had been waiting to do so for a long time.

  Okay, definitely overthinking this, Mia, she thought as she tore away from the window. The curtains were promptly pulled shut as if it would help cover up her desires, or her hidden fears about Grey lurking in the streets.

  The camp stove wasn’t much, but it was better than having a hotel room with barely anything in it. Mia stirred a packet of instant noodles, watching the boiling water bubble up around them. Her mind was elsewhere, focusing on the man that she had seen; replaying an imaginary conversation with him over and over.

  In her mind, Mia would have taken Frank Richard's card. She would have run it and wandered back to his table. Of course, instead of being awkward, he would have looked right at her and stared at her as if he was too afraid to look away.

  "You're very familiar," Mia would have said.

  "I thought you would have recognized an old friend," he would say with a charming smirk.

  "I'm sorry," Mia would have said. "I don't have any friends named Frank Richards."

  She imagined the man offering to walk with her; waiting for her until her shift was done so they could finally sit down and catch up on everything. Perhaps the man had gone on many exciting adventures and had seen some amazing things, and that's why he had never found his way back home. Mia wanted to ask him everything. Of course, none of this would ever be possible if the man wasn't Rowan. She stepped back, startled by the water from her noodles bubbling over the pot, spilling boiling water on the counter space.

  As she wiped down the splintered floor, she knew how foolish she was being. All of her daydreams were based around Rowan, and she often found herself drifting towards thoughts of him, only to dismiss them as what they really were. Just hopeless daydreams.

  Mia tossed and turned in her sleep, the mattress creaking up a storm as she struggled to find unconsciousness. Her eyes drifted up to the shadows dancing around on her angled ceiling, light coming in from the streetlights and the few cars that passed by. It sounded as if there was rain outside and Mia tried to tune into it to settle her nerves.

  Just when she felt as if she was finally about to fall sleep, there was a knock on the door. Mia jolted up, pulling her scratchy sheets higher over her. Had she actually heard that sound? Was her mind playing tricks on her in the dark? It wasn’t until she heard the second knock that she knew it was real, and the next question was whether or not she should answer it.

  She draped her blanket over her shoulders, her bare feet carefully treading over the floor to avoid splinters. The knocking continued, and soon the rhythm of it matched up with Mia’s frantic heartbeat as she crept closer towards the door. The stairs creaked under her as she walked down them. She instantly regretted not grabbing anything with which to defend herself, before opening the door. After all, there could be something evil waiting for her on the other side, and she wouldn’t know until it was too late.

  Her hand stretched out toward the knob. For a moment she had hesitated. It was safer to fake being out of the house rather than revealing herself here. But who knew what hour it was? Mia clutched the knob, and the knocking still hammering in her ears. It seemed much more terrifying now that she was closer to it. She resisted the urge to close her eyes, as she finally opened the door.

  Rain poured from outside, dripping off of the small awning over the doorway. Crouched under it, buried in the collar of a coat; was Frank Richards himself. He smiled meekly as rainwater dripped from the ends of his hair. He used his hand to smooth it back, a gesture that Mia was all too familiar with.

  “I hope it’s not too late,” Frank said. “I just…I needed to come by.”

  Mia stepped aside without hesitation. She was relieved that it wasn't Grey or any of his friends.

  "What are you doing here?" Mia asked as she led him up the stairs. "God, you're soaked. Let me take your coat." Frank shed his wet coat and handed it to Mia. He wore
a warm-looking sweater underneath. Mia hung his coat up on the railing near the stairs. She felt an odd sense of familiarity with him as if he had visited many times before.

  They stood in the middle of the loft. Mia hadn’t even thought to turn the lights on, and they were looking at each other in the soft yellow glow of the streetlights pouring in from the windows. His presence felt so comforting to Mia, despite the fact that she hardly knew who this man was.

  Mia barely knew what she was supposed to say. Should she make him tea? Ask him to sit down on the bed – the only real place for anyone to sit down? She suddenly wasn't sure what to do with herself, and instead pulled the sleeves of her sweater helplessly over her hands. Then, she remembered. She knew what she was supposed to say.

  "You're very familiar," she said quietly. Frank smiled, and it was eerie to Mia how similar his smile was to her fantasy from earlier. He even had the faintest and most charming gap between his two front teeth.

  Frank moved closer to her, his boots creaking softly against the wooden floor. Mia almost felt uneasy. Was it because she was afraid to be alone in the dark with a stranger? Or was she afraid that he wasn't the man she had thought he was?

  Then, he said something that almost made Mia think it was all a dream.

  “I thought you would have recognized an old friend,” Frank said.

  Mia could feel all of her nerves vibrating inside of her. They prickled around the skin on the back of her neck, creating a strange tingle down her spine and towards her fingers gripping tighter on the cuffs of her sleeves. “I’m sorry,” Mia said. “I don’t have any friends named Frank Richards.” She waited with a phantom anxiety for what he was about to say.

  "Well, it's a good thing my name isn't Frank Richards," the man said. Mia felt a jump in her heartbeat.

  "I knew it," she whispered. She stared at him a moment longer, taking him in. All of her memories fast-forwarding through her mind in a flash. Not knowing what else to say, she instinctively held out her arms and was almost knocked down as her friend crashed into her, holding so tightly to her that she thought he would break her ribs.

  Rowan’s nose buried into her hair, smelling her, cherishing her. It had been such a long time.

  “I knew I’d find you, Mia,” he said.

  She smiled at the sound of her name. “What took you so long?” Mia asked. She breathed in his scent. He was musky, mixed with a fresh hint of earthy soap that emanated from the fibers of his wooly sweater.

  “I wanted to come back to you,” Rowan said. “I tried so hard, but I couldn’t find you.”

  “I tried to find you too,” Mia said, her voice cracking. She hadn’t realized how emotional this moment would be between them after being apart for so long. “But Rowan...listen, I’ve been through a lot since you’ve been gone—” before she could finish, Rowan gently shushed her, his arms tightening around her still. He pulled away, just enough so that he could look at her.

  “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about everything,” Rowan said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Please don’t,” Mia found herself saying. She had never thought this way about Rowan before, but now that they were older, she wasn’t going to let these feelings get pushed to the side, especially since she finally had him in front of her.

  Mia felt herself growing unsteady at his touch, realizing how close his face was to hers. She could feel his breath on her forehead and noticed his lips parted just slightly in invitation. She reached up and touched the stubble on his face.

  "You have a beard now," she said, giggling playfully.

  "You're still as beautiful as ever," Rowan said. Mia still couldn't believe this was happening to her. Just moments before she wasn't sure if it was her childhood friend that had saved her from that truck.

  There was something strange in all of this. Rowan had never spoken to her this way before. And yet, Mia wanted to cling to every word, not worrying about what they meant later. They mattered now, and she wanted him now. Mia looked into Rowan’s eyes. He leaned in closer, his nose just touching hers.

  “I’ve been thinking of this moment for a long, long time,” he whispered to her.

  “Me too,” Mia said. “More times than I can count, honestly.”

  "No more counting, then," he said as his hand cupped around her cheek. Mia closed her eyes, feeling his thumb gently brushing back and forth along her skin. It was electrifying, and for a split second, she pictured herself sitting once again on her and Rowan's favorite rock.

  But they were all grown up now, and time had manifested a strong desire in Mia. Before she knew it Rowan was kissing her, his lips soft and delicate against hers, but also hungry. Mia collapsed into his arms, forgetting Grey and the years of time that separated her from Rowan. All that mattered was that he was there.

  Mia was losing herself to him, completely wound up in his massive arms.

  "Rowan is this—" she wanted to ask if it was strange. After all, it was so sudden how he had grabbed for her and was kissing her this way. But Rowan ignored her, bringing her towards the nearest wall by the bed, kissing her neck. Mia was floored. She could barely process how quickly things were happening. This has to be a dream, she thought, but she didn't want to wake up.

  Rowan was pressing himself further into her, his pelvis making contact with the front of her sweatpants. Mia was nearly shaking at this moment, but she longed to embrace everything that was going to happen between the two of them. His body was so warm against hers; his breath heavy as he kept his lips trailing along her neck, planting sweet kisses on her skin. Mia wrapped her arms around him as his hands started searching the rest of her body.

  Once again, she felt strange. All of this was so sudden. But Rowan kept pulling at her clothes, tasting her skin, and it had made her feel so alive and full of a new fire. The room spun around her as she reached for Rowan's pants, fumbling with the button and the zipper. Rowan's hands slid from her waist up towards her ribcage, his thumbs digging into her skin as he worked his way to the bare breasts that were hiding under her thin t-shirt.

  Mia was excited now. She could feel herself getting wetter just from Rowan's touch. Throwing caution to the wind, Mia spread her fingers further down into his pants, her fingertips caressing the thick hardness that Rowan's boxers were holding back. Rowan gave a soft moan at the touch of her hand, which prompted Mia even further. She trailed along the fabric until her fingers could reach his warm bare skin.

  Her heart was pounding now as she sighed, getting a firm grip around Rowan's shaft. Rowan's head tilted back as Mia worked with her hands up and down along his smooth, veiny skin, caressing his tip until she could feel just a hint of wet emerging from him.

  She suddenly longed for more of him. She wanted to taste him, and to feel him inside of her. A new book of possibilities lay before her, and Mia was determined to flip through every page as long as it would satisfy her new craving.

  “Let’s get you on the bed,” Rowan said, suddenly pulling Mia away so that he could lift her. She was weightless in his arms, and when Rowan laid her down, she didn’t even hear the mattress make a single sound. She could only see him hovering over her, and as he lifted his shirt she could see every muscle bulging from his shoulders down to his rippling stomach.

  "What are we doing?" Mia asked, breathless as Rowan lifted her leg over his shoulder, slowly prying the sweatpants from her body.

  "Something I've wanted to do for a long time," he said. Without another word, Mia let him in between her legs. He brushed his lips against her, gently caressing her inner thighs, the stubble on his face prickling her. Mia stifled her giggles but stopped laughing as soon as Rowan pulled her panties to the side.

  She nearly gasped in surprise once his tongue found her vulva, and moaned as he licked inside and out, his lips working around her. He was so passionate, and so gentle with her that it was hard for Mia not to come. When she could feel herself getting close, she reached her hand out and placed it on top of his messy hair.

&
nbsp; “Let’s take this another step further,” she said. Rowan lifted his head from in between her legs. Suddenly, Mia was horrified at the monster in front of her. From the shadows and the light casting an odd glow over his face, Mia discovered that it wasn’t Rowan at all.

  It was Grey, smiling devilishly as he reached up to grab her by the throat. Mia screamed, but it was silenced by her sputtering and choking as Grey clenched his fist harder around her. He laughed, like an insane criminal as he shook her furiously. "You thought you'd get away so easily?" He said, his voice practically inhuman.

  Mia flailed her arms, now finding herself alone in her bed. She tore the sheets from her, throwing them onto the floor as she nearly tumbled from the mattress. The bed shrieked in protest as her weight left it. Mia paced wildly back and forth. The sun was just peeking in through her window, filling the room with a soft blue glow. It had been a dream after all, at least half of it was. The other was a complete nightmare. Mia wiped the cold sweat from her brow as she took up her blanket, and wrapped it around herself. She walked towards the stairs, looking down at her door waiting below. It was shut tight, and silent. Once again, Rowan was just a ghost to her.

  CHAPTER 4: THE PAST

  "How do you know it was her?" Brian asked as Rowan chopped a piece of wood on a stump. Brian was the only friend that Rowan had dared to make in Birchton, but only because he had a secret just as Rowan did. Rowan had just moved into town when he had been confronted at a bar by a biker passing through. A roaring bar fight would have taken place if Brian hadn't been there to step in. He had short blonde hair and was a mountain of a man, all muscle, though you couldn't tell from his round appearance. He had had the strength of a bear as he had helped Rowan get the biker off of his back. It wasn't long until Rowan found out that Brian actually was a bear; a shifter like he was.