Cam turned around obediently as Lachlan hurried further into the shadows by the shore. He heard an elongatedfwoomphsound, not unlike a mountain of fabric unfolding, followed by the cracking of branches and shifting of snow.
Cam recognised Lachlan’s approach by the flap and slither of his flippers hauling his enormous bulk over the icy ground. His smooth, oval head poked into Cam’s field of view first, held aloft on a long, graceful neck that connected to a rounded body with four flippers and a tail that tapered to a point. From a distance he looked almost dumpy, a clumsy thing on land—but as soon as he was in the water it was obvious how streamlined his body was, how purposefully it was made for gliding through water.
Cam placed a palm on Lachlan’s curved snout and met his soulful, dark gaze. ‘Good night, love,’ he whispered. ‘Sleep well.’
Lachlan pressed into his hand. His skin was smooth, a little rubbery, and radiated warmth. At least he wouldn’t be cold under the ice.
Still, Cam would prefer to have Lachlan warm in bed next to him for an entire, unbroken night. Lachlan usually chose the early hours, around two or three in the morning, to head out into the loch, because he’d determined there was the least risk of night-walkers or campers still being awake to notice him. He didn’t need to stay too long to satisfy the requirements of his curse: so long as he transformed and spent a couple of hours each day in the water, it would prevent the loch from forcefully dragging him back to it. But it was long enough that Cam hated every moment it robbed of their already brief time together.
Lachlan nudged him again, urging him backward. Cam parted from him reluctantly. He kept one eye on the trees as Lachlan tugged himself onto the ice, then winced at the high-pitched splintering noise that echoed off the shoreline. Who’d have thought ice could be so loud? If anyonewasnearby they’d hear it, for sure.
Before he could worry too hard, Lachlan was sinking smartly into the freshly uncapped water. His flippers cut silently under the surface as he swam, until the barest hump of his back might have been only a log floating in the moonlight, and his neck dipped so low that just his eyes were visible above the shallow waves created by his movement. He turned and gave a slow wink in Cam’s direction, a gesture which inexplicably made Cam blush. Whatever form Lachlan was in, he could make Cam’s heart flip.
On just a couple of occasions, Cam had managed to wake up early enough to meet Lachlan on his re-emergence from the loch. The first tentative bob of his dark, amphibious eyes above water always filled Cam with happiness—and a fair measure of relief—to be seeing him again. Once he was certain the coast was clear, Lachlan would dip under again to transform. And then the sight of him striding naked out of the water, with glittering droplets clinging to his lithe body in pre-dawn twilight, was enough to perk Cam up on even the groggiest of mornings.
Now, he experienced the opposite. His heart sank in parallel as Lachlan’s aquatic shape disappeared completely from view.
He watched the surface slush bob in slow, undulating waves in Lachlan’s wake, and wondered how long it would take to completely freeze over again. There was a real bite to the air against his face. His feet were already going numb despite thick socks and hardy boots.
Would Bryce and his crew be out in this cold?
Would the werewolf?
It was hard to imagine any creature wanting to be anything but holed up in a warm burrow in this weather, but a wolf’s thick coat might protect it from the worst of the cold. And if the beast was even slightly intelligent, it would surely save its movements for the cover of night.
What kind of movements?
Where was it going?
Cam found the question unsettling. To have first seen the beast on a road that was over twelve miles away, and then again that same morning on the hill behind the Teapot, was too much of a coincidence to ignore. It hadclearlyfollowed him here. But why?
Bryce had called it dangerous. But Cam hadn’t heard news of any suspicious deaths in the area lately. Hell, the thing could’ve attackedhimat any point during that long, lonely walk after the crash.
Bryce knows what he’s doing,he told himself. But still. Now that he’d found this loose thread, he couldn’t keep from picking at it.
What if Bryce had it wrong? Just like Cam feared he’d get Lachlan all wrong, if he discovered his secret.
He stamped his feet to encourage some feeling back into them, and to try to take his mind away from Bryce’s business. He blew a long stream of vapour into the air over the loch, before turning his watch to the trees along the shoreline instead. The darkness was close to impenetrable, a dense soup of shadow under the canopy.
‘What am I doing?’ Cam huffed to himself. What was the point in keeping watch when he couldn’t see a damn thing?
He scrubbed at his face, blinking illusory spots out of his vision.
Lachlan was safe in the loch. Bryce wasn’t about to go looking underwater for his werewolf—and if the beast itself fancied a swim, chances were it would freeze to death within minutes. That was if Lachlan didn’t get to it first. Cam knew first hand he didn’t take kindly to other monsters invading his home.
Cam was, he knew, currently surplus to requirements.
Knowing it didn’t make it sting any less.
For his own pride, he resolved to make one pass over the banks either side of Lachlan’s pier before heading inside. To look for wolf tracks, or signs that Bryce’s gang might be camped nearby.
He fished out the talisman and hung it round his neck. A low buzz of energy connected with his vision. Hopefully it would give him an edge in the dark if he encountered anything magical. Perhaps he’d find traces of a transformation, if the werewolf was a shapeshifter.
Glancing back into the trees, he was immediately struck by a large iridescent patch gleaming through the branches. Sucking in a breath, he advanced cautiously towards it. The area was flattened, like something huge had squashed down all the snow and foliage. What kind of enormous, hulking, heavy creature could have…?
He suppressed an embarrassed laugh. Of course, Lachlan had changed right there. This was his magical footprint.
‘Man, I’m tired,’ Cam murmured, shaking his head.
