Dreaming of a Wolf (Snowdonia Wolves) Read Free

investigation into the tragedy, but Mum had read the screen over my shoulder. “It might be a good idea. It could start to give you some closure.”
    “I don’t want closure. I just want him back.”
    She hugged me from behind. “I know, love. But until you accept it, you can’t begin to grieve properly.”
    I considered it. “But it doesn’t feel as though he’s dead.” I pressed my hand to my heart. “Not in here. I dreamed about him last night, and it felt real.” My neck stung a little, as though he’d really bitten me, and I could swear I ached between my legs.
    “We’ll come with you to London. You know that.”
    “Yeah, thanks.” I felt exhausted just thinking about it. “I’m going back to bed for a bit.”
    I hadn’t bothered dressing, and so I slid between the covers and buried my face in the pillow. Taking a deep breath, I paused, and then sniffed the soft white fabric. It smelled faintly of Alun, the distinctive pine forest fragrance he carried on his skin. He joked about spending his childhood running wild in the Snowdonia mountains, and how it was part of his DNA.
    I had to be going crazy. He hadn’t been here, to Mum’s, for months.
    “Alun,” I whispered, “why did you go and leave me?”
    With my eyes tightly shut, and his fragrance in my nostrils, I pretended I felt his hands squeezing the tension out of my shoulders.
    “I didn’t, baby. I’m still here.” His voice filled my mind. This wouldn’t be the first time I’d had an imaginary conversation with him.
    “I wish you were. I don’t want to carry on without you.”
    “I am still here. You don’t shake me off that easily.”
    Tears welled, but I wouldn’t let them fall. “I keep thinking about everything we were going to do. All the places we planned to go.”
    He chuckled in my head. “Which first, eh? India or South America?”
    It was an old debate, and I felt a smile emerge, unbidden. “Neither. It’s New York first, or Venice.”
    “Or New Zealand.”
    I felt myself drifting in that almost-asleep space, and I welcomed it. Alun’s hands continued to soothe me, and I relaxed. “Why not Australia?”
    “I’ve got a friend in New Zealand. We grew up together, but he lives in Wellington now.”
    Sleep beckoned, deep and dark and all consuming. “I don’t want you to be gone when I wake up.”
    He pressed a hot kiss to my nape. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Cariad .”
     
    ****
     
    Sunlight filtered through green leaves in a dense canopy above me. I lay on soft, springy grass, staring up at patches of blue between the treetops. Water splashed nearby, and birds called and chirruped all around. It was the definition of tranquility, and I stayed there a moment longer, absorbing all the different sensations. My dreams were getting more lifelike every day.
    I knew Alun was here, and I smiled. “Where are we?”
    “Swallow Falls. Have you been here before?”
    That was the water I could hear. “No.” I sat up and looked around, finding him right away. He leaned against a nearby tree, bare chested and barefoot, hands in the pockets of his jeans, and a huge grin on his face.
    “Let me show you.” He held out a hand, and pulled me up, tugging me into his arms. “I used to come here when I was a kid.”
    I slid my arms around his neck and inhaled his scent, holding it deep in my lungs. So familiar. So good. “Why are you only half dressed?” His chest was warm, as it always was, and I buried my nose in the base of his throat.
    “There was something else I wanted to show you, but it can wait,” he said. “Come and see the falls.”
    With our fingers tangled together, he led me along a narrow path, to emerge from the trees onto a grassy ledge. The sound of the water had grown louder with every step, and now it rushed and roared, making speech impossible.
    Alun stood behind me, arms wrapped around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder, as I gazed down. It was breathtaking. Far below, the