Blind Wolf (A Werewolf BBW Shifter Romance #1)(3)

"Not much," Julia said breezily. "Not unless you count that one time I was abducted by aliens. Or the time the Loch Ness monster poked its head out of the library toilet. But you know, there was that one instance when we saw a horde of trolls stampeding through downtown. Is that the kind of thing you're talking about?"

"Exactly," Damien said, laughing. Julia sensed that he was uncertain about something, she didn't know what.

"Sorry, no monsters around here," Julia said, a bit regretfully. "Anything else I can do for you?" she asked. Show you around town? And maybe into my bedroom? She shook the lascivious thoughts from her brain.

"That's it for today," Damien said. He had a look of disappointment on his face, and Julia didn't know why. "Thanks."

"No problem," she said. "Do you need me to, um, show you out?"

"I'll manage," he said, lifting the wood cane in front of him. "This got me in the library, it'll get me out."

"Oh, of course," Julia said, blushing again. "Sure."

"Thanks for your help," Damien said. "Julia, right?"

"Yes," she said. He offered a hand in front of her, and she took it timidly. His large fingers enveloped her palm and squeezed tightly. The warmth seemed to burn her skin, and he held on for a moment too long.

"It was nice to meet you, Julia," the man said. He walked off, his cane sweeping the ground in front of him. Julia's eyes tracked him to the end of the hallway...where a tall, slim blonde girl stood, leaning against the wall. She looked a few years younger than Julia, maybe a freshman here at the college. Damien stumbled as he walked toward her, but she didn't so much bother as uncross her arms.

"There you are!" she said, grinning at him. "Took you long enough!"

"I've got the books," Julia heard Damien say. Her heart tore apart as he held out his arm and the girl latched onto him. She tossed her hair and looked back at Julia, her eyes narrowing as she led Damien away.

He was out of your league, anyway, Julia thought. But the idea didn't help stop the tears from brimming over her eyelashes. She couldn't help but feel that her Prince Charming was walking out of her life, maybe forever, on the arm of a gorgeous, thin princess. Blinking hard, she turned back to her work and tried to forget the face of the blind man who had smiled at her so charmingly.

CHAPTER TWO

Damien

Damien felt her presence before he heard her. At first he thought that he was going crazy or having some kind of mental hallucination. He felt her frustration like an aura of emotion swirling around his own heart, and when she collided with the two college boys in the hallway he felt a jolt of embarrassment, as surely as if he had been embarrassed himself. By the time he realized what was happening, he had already swiveled his body around to listen better. Her voice. He needed to hear her voice. If she was who he thought she was—

"...stop feeling sorry for yourself..."

He heard the words resonate inside of his brain, echoing almost. It made him dizzy. He could picture her mouth in his mind, her full lips shaping the words. She sounded young, certainly younger than him. She sounded beautiful. In his mind an image swirled in his brain—fuzzy around the edges, but with a general outline of her long-lashed eyes, her flowing hair.

His nostrils flared slightly at her anger, and as he stepped forward to talk to her he suddenly found himself growing nervous. Was this the Calling that he felt? If so, that meant that this town was already occupied by wolves, and his pack would likely have to move on. But if it was the Calling—if he had found his mate—then she might come with him. The echoing sound of her voice and the emotive awareness gave him courage. Surely she would feel the same towards him, at least at first. Once she saw his face and knew about his deformity, she might very well decide that it was not worth it. She might choose another mate, one that was stronger, whole, if not emotionally as connected to her. But he had a shot.

As he spoke to her he felt her emotions shift rapidly. Anger, shame, a stifled desire. He could smell her perfume, a lovely violet scent, but underneath that was the scent of lust, a deeper, earthier smell that called to him and made his body react in response to hers. He suppressed his mounting desire and tried to make small talk, but it seemed that she did not share the connection with him. He found an excuse to touch her elbow and it shocked him. Her emotions, once they were in contact, were as clear as day to him. All of her feelings overlaid his own, separate but joined. She did not feel it, though, or perhaps she was ignoring her feelings because of his disability.

When she told him her name, he rolled the syllables around on his tongue as though tasting them. Julia. She had to be the one, he knew it. Yet she talked to him like he was a human, like she couldn't sense the intricate connection that had already started to grow and tangle between them. And then, after teasing her about werewolves and getting nothing in response, he realized what was wrong. It wasn't that she thought he was human at all.

She was human.

The Calling was wrong. The thought ran through his mind and was abandoned just as quickly. It couldn't be. Sure, sometimes couples would have different intensities of Calling, and sometimes wolves would settle for someone they weren't mates with at all for practical reasons, but he had always heard that once you found your true mate, it was obvious on both sides that it was a perfect match.