“I’m not sure. I don’t feel good. I felt a bit off last night, too. I tried to call you once or twice, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”

I felt terrible. I had heard him. I’d heard him howl for me, and at one point, I’d thought I heard him saying my name. He must have shifted and called me to try to get my attention. I heard him and I ignored him so I could continue my savagery uninterrupted.

God, I really was a total dickhead.

“I wasn’t myself last night, Jules. I was . . . not in a good place.”

He didn’t reply. He wiped his top lip with the back of his hand.

“Can I get you some water or something?”

“No thanks,” he said, crossing his arms over his lower belly and leaning forward.

“Do you think you ate something dodgy last night?”

“No. I didn’t hunt. I didn’t eat anything. I spent all my time trying to find you.”

That made me feel even worse. I went into the house to fetch him a glass of water and looked for some Tylenol or something like it. I didn’t find any. No surprise, really. Wolves heal naturally from the type of thing Tylenol fixes. I went back outside and handed him the glass.

He set it down without taking a sip. He was shifting from side to side in discomfort. “I feel hot.”

I held my palm to his forehead. “Shit, Jules, you’re burning up.”

“I think I’m going to go inside.”

“Can I do anything?” I was incredibly worried. I’d never seen Jules like that before.

“No,” he said sharply. “Just stay here. I’m not feeling . . . I think I should be by myself.”

He went inside, and once he’d closed the door, I leaned over and scented where he’d sat on the bench. He didn’t smell sick. He smelled different, but not sick. Definitely not sick. The way he smelled made my dick unspeakably hard.

Jesus, I thought, I am the definition of an asshole.

I went for a walk around the cabin. I made a wide circle around it and for reasons only my wolf understood, now and then, I stopped and pissed against the trunk of a tree. When I was positive Jules was asleep, I went into the cabin. I slept on the sofa, with an old crocheted throw over me, so as not to disturb him. I slept fitfully, disturbed by the sound of Jules tossing and turning. I woke a couple of times to the sound of him thrashing his legs and whimpering softly like a dog having a bad dream.