The Savage Grace: A Dark Divine Novel(4)

“No,” I said. “Don’t leave.” I held my hand up as if to signal “stop”—the same motion I learned when training my old three-legged dog, Daisy. “Don’t run away again, please.”

The wolf took two steps forward to the edge of his side of the ravine and looked at me again with that curious tilt of his head. Did he still recognize me? Hope burned in my chest, and I stayed as still as I could so as not to frighten him away. And I swear, in the silence that engulfed the dark woods now that his howling had stopped, I thought I could hear his heart beating.

His solitary heartbeat. Not two heartbeats like every other werewolf I knew. I still didn’t know what that meant. I still didn’t know what he had become.

For a moment it looked like the Daniel wolf contemplated making the jump over the ravine to get to my side as he crouched back slightly on his hind legs.

“Come,” I motioned to him. “Please, Daniel,” I said softly. “I need you. We need each other.”

The Daniel wolf seemed to startle at the sound of his name. He dropped my gaze, and my heart felt like it fell right into the depths of the ravine as I watched him turn away from me.

“No!” I shouted, both of my hands extended as if I could reach out and grab him, stop him, as he bounded away into the trees, deeper than we’d ever ventured together in these woods before.

For half a second I contemplated trying to go after him—trying to jump the ravine, even if I didn’t have the strength to make it in one piece. Anything to be near him again. But without the support of my hands against the tree trunk to hold me up, my ankle finally gave out, and I collapsed at the base of the tree.

I pulled my knees into my chest and listened for the howls to start up again from some unreachable part of the forest, counting my own lonely heartbeats as the minutes passed and no sound followed. A sigh of overwhelming exhaustion shuddered through me—mixed with relief that the howling had stopped and remorse that I wasn’t able to get Daniel to come back to me—and for the first time since we escaped Caleb’s warehouse, I allowed myself to cry.

I let out a string of long sobs against the forest floor until a terrible voice whispered inside my head, You’re losing him. And there’s nothing you can do.

Another wail tried to escape my throat, but I swallowed it back down. “No,” I told the monster in my head. I pushed myself up and wiped the muddy tears from my face, hating myself for giving in to that weakness. “Daniel and I have been through too much, we’ve come too far, and I am not going to lose him. I won’t let that happen.”

No matter the cost.





Chapter Two


LOST BOYS


SIX MONTHS AGO

“Are you cold?” Daniel asked from behind me as I sat on a stone bench, working on a charcoal drawing for art class. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, and he pressed his chest against my back. Warmth radiated through his shirt, and my skin tingled in response under my thin sweater. I shivered, but not because I was cold. Not anymore.

“Mmm,” I said, and set my notebook on the bench.

Daniel moved his hands down and up my arms to warm them, and nuzzled his nose against my neck.

“I’ll give you an hour to quit that,” I said with a quiet laugh, even though we were pretty much the only ones who ever came to the Garden of Angels.

“How about two?” he asked, and pressed his lips softly against my skin. I wanted to melt. He brushed my hair back and kissed behind my ear.

I sighed, and my charcoal pencil slipped from my fingers. It hit the edge of the stone bench and then rolled to the base of the statue I’d been sketching. It was the sculpture of Gabriel the Angel that Daniel had shown me the first time he’d brought me here.

Daniel’s firm lips trailed down my neck until they reached the delicate chain of the necklace I almost always wore now. Something stirred inside of me, and my hand clutched at the moonstone pendant instinctively. Daniel pulled back a bit.

“Does it help?” he asked. His breath was so warm and wonderful against my hair. I shivered again as a tingling sensation ran up my neck into my scalp. My hand closed tighter over my pendant, and I let the almost hot, pulsing sensation that emanated from the stone send its calming strength through my body.

“Yes,” I said, but I didn’t mention that I seemed to need it more often now than I had in the first couple of months since my infection. I didn’t want him to worry.

“Good,” he said. “I wish I’d had a moonstone from the very beginning like you.” Daniel’s hands slipped away from my shoulders, and he stepped back, taking his warmth with him. “I wonder if I would have been able to stop myself from ever giving in to the wolf the first time.…” His voice trailed off, and I didn’t have to wonder why. So much pain had come into his life—our lives—because of what happened that night.

I shifted on the bench so I was looking at him now. His shaggy blond hair blew softly above his deep brown eyes in the chilly March wind. “Will you ever forgive yourself for that night?”

Daniel shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “When your brother does.”

I bit my lip. That required finding Jude in the first place. A prospect that seemed more unlikely with each passing week that he remained missing. “He has to. Eventually. Don’t you think?” My dad once said that someone who refused to forgive would eventually become a monster if he held on to his anger and let it burn inside of him for too long. But I guess that had already happened to Jude. He’d turned into a monster—in a much more literal sense than my father had meant—a werewolf who had infected me and then tried to kill Daniel. All because he couldn’t forgive Daniel for infecting him the night he first succumbed to the werewolf curse himself.