Olivia’s Hunt - Ch 9
Copyright © 2025 Michelle Bolanger
I wandered aimlessly down the supermarket aisles, randomly adding groceries to the cart and trying to make sense of the images still swirling in my head. Dad was right when he said I would probably dream, though calling them dreams seemed wrong. They were more like experiences. Every one of them felt so real, I could remember the sounds, smells, and sights as if they were recent memories. But one was impossible to get out of my thoughts. I stood in front of the dairy cooler as the vision swept through me again.
The bedroom walls were stark white with one high window covered by a shimmering silver curtain that billowed around the pillows of the bed. A mattress rested on the floor covered by a heavy grey comforter with a circular white pattern in the center that spilled over the edges. Large hands rested on my hips and my hair fell loosely around my shoulders.
“You are beautiful, Olivia.” The man’s deep voice spoke in my ear and his warm breath moistened the side of my throat.
I rested my head back. Whoever was behind me was several inches taller than me and my shoulder blades pressed against his ribs. His arms circled my waist and pulled me tighter against him as his lips blazed a trail up my neck toward my jaw. I tipped my head to his and Mason’s green gold eyes smiled down at me.
“I love you,” he murmured, before turning me to face him and catching my face gently in his hands.
“I love you, too.” My body shook, anticipation and desire flickering through my stomach as his fingers threaded into my hair.
“Olivia?” Mason touched my arm, his voice right next to my ear. I jerked backwards, knocking a carton of eggs sideways.
“Whoa, there!” Mason caught them, laughing at my startled expression. “Are you okay? You looked a million miles away.”
I pressed my palms against my cheeks, laughing to cover my embarrassment. “Fine. I’m fine.” My voice squeaked, and his brow creased.
“I called your name three times before you heard me.” He set the eggs back in place and rested a hand on my cart, his own basket dangling from his other hand.
His burgundy button down shirt was untucked and the sleeves were rolled past his elbows. My eyes snagged on the ripple of muscle in his forearms as his fingers flexed around the metal frame. In my dream, the sight of his bare skin tightened my stomach with awareness, but seeing this small sliver of him in person twisted my insides in a completely different way.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Um. No.” I tore my gaze back to the cooler and picked up a carton of brown eggs. “I couldn’t remember which eggs dad prefers.” So. Lame. I wanted to face-palm myself, but forced a smile and turned to face him. “What are you doing here?”
Arching an eyebrow, he lifted his basket. “Buying groceries?”
“Right. Well, it was good seeing you again, Mason.” I set the eggs in the cart and began to push it down the aisle, hoping he would continue on his own way. He let go of the cart, but fell in step beside me. Crap.
“I’m really sorry I made such a bad impression when we met last month.” He ran a hand down his face. “I’d like to start over.”
I didn’t stop, unwilling to acknowledge what I knew. I didn’t want to think about or accept that he and I would eventually be - together. In the most intimate way. I glanced up at his face, and sighed. If he was the other half of the Härskare, he knew it also.
He moved the basket to his other hand, then reached out to halt my progress toward the check out. “Please? Give me a second chance? I promise I’m not a jerk all the time.” His eyes searched mine.
I exhaled, shoving the dream images from my mind as best I could and holding out my hand. “Hi. I’m Olivia Arctos.”
The corners of his lips curved upwards as his hand engulfed mine. “Mason Rufus. It’s nice to finally meet you, Olivia.”
I swallowed hard as his touch sent uncomfortable tingles up my arm. His thumb caressed the back of my hand before he let go and stepped back. We stood in awkward silence until I cleared my throat and nodded toward the front of the store.
“Well, I really need to get home. Dad is expecting me to make dinner before he gets back,” I said.
“Is he meeting with the pack?” Marcus asked.
I glanced around to see if anyone heard him, then resumed my progress toward the registers. “Yes,” I replied quietly.
Dad was struggling to convince the pack to give him more time, but they were impatient to have another Alpha pair in command. A few very vocal males were making things difficult for everyone. He’d done his best to hide the conflict from me, but I’d overheard a phone message from one of his advisors. When I asked him about it, he told me everything. Most of the other pack members were understanding and more than sympathetic to our situation, but last night one of the newly mated pairs called for the meeting today. I had wanted to go with him, but he convinced me he could handle it.
We reached the front of the store and I got in line.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Mason’s voice was concerned and I considered telling him what was going on.
Deciding against it when She growled, I smiled. “Nah. It’s nothing dad can’t handle.” I held out my hand again. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Rufus.”
Tilting his head, he shook my hand then gave me a mock salute, taking the hint this time. “Dismissed. I’ll see you around, Ms. Arctos.” He turned and headed toward the back of the store.
Though I told myself I wouldn’t, I watched him walk away. His long strides carried him around the corner of an aisle and out of sight.
“When did he wander into town?” The woman behind the register commented. Her name tag read Susan, and her bright eyes swung to mine, clearly having appreciated the view of his retreating backside. St Martin was a small town and a handsome stranger wouldn’t be overlooked by the local ladies. “Is he the new detective? Rufman or something?”
“Rufus. Marcus Rufus is his name, and yes he’s a detective. I think he said he was hired by the department last week.” I began unloading the cart onto the belt, unsure why I shared that information with her.
“Do you know him?” Susan scanned and bagged the items I’d unloaded, her brown eyes sparkling with interest. “Is he single?”
“As far as I know,” I said curtly. All I wanted was for her to hurry so I could get home and find out how the meeting went.
She frowned at me. “He seems a little old for you, doesn’t he?” she asked, apparently mistaking my impatience for jealousy.
She was right, but her condescension made me angry. I raked my gaze down her, noting the manicured hands, perfectly styled hair, and cute shoes. I swiped my card. “He may be too old for me, but I’m sure you’re not his type.”
“What type is that?” she sneered.
“High maintenance.” I signed my name and lifted the bags. Her startled expression made me feel bad for my comment. “Sorry. It just looks like you try too hard. Guys like him.” I glanced over my shoulder. “They like things a little simpler.”
She crossed her arms. “Was that an apology? Because if it was, your delivery could use some work.”
I sighed. “I really am sorry. It’s been a rough couple months and I’m not handling it very well. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“Well.” She dropped her arms, but her eyes were still hurt. “I hope things get better for you.”
“Thank you.” I headed for the doors, but turned back. “Susan?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“You’re a beautiful woman, and I’m sorry if I insulted you.”
Her smile was slight, but her face softened. “Thank you. Have a good day.”
I nodded and left. The parking lot was nearly empty and I climbed into my car as my phone began to chime. Tossing the bags onto the seat beside me and hoping I hadn’t broken the eggs, I dug the cell out of my front pocket.
“Hello?” I wedged it between my shoulder and ear as I started the car.
“Olivia? Where are you?” Dad’s voice was strained.
“Leaving the grocery, why? What’s wrong?” I backed out of the spot and hurried toward the exit.
“Come straight home,” he said. In the back ground I could hear a car door slam. “I just got here. The meeting didn’t go well.”
“I’ll be there in twenty.” I pulled into traffic. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m not sure.” Our house alarm buzzed and I heard the beeping of the keypad as he disarmed it. “We’ll discuss it when you get here.”
“I’m on my way.” I hung up and tossed the phone toward my purse.
The roads were clear, and I made it home in fifteen minutes, skidding the tires in the gravel of our driveway. I shoved the phone into my pocket, grabbed the bags and my purse and jetted toward the door. As I reached for the knob, I noticed the door was slightly ajar.
“Dad?” I called, gingerly pushing the door inward and setting what was in my hands on the ground before edging inside. With one hand on my phone, I peered inside. “Dad?”
Sunlight bathed the house with plenty of light, but the hallway and bedrooms were dark. Dad’s keys were on the counter, but there was no other sign he was in the house. A chill ran up my neck as I made my way through the living room toward the hall. The house was eerily quiet, but I thought I heard distant voices. The house wasn’t that large, so whoever it was had to be outside.
Straining to hear, I crept toward the picture window that would give me a view of the front yard, and most the driveway side. The voices were louder, and I picked out dad’s. Relieved he was okay, I leaned forward and was startled to see him on the front porch, surrounded by a handful of male pack members. All were shirtless, indicating they had arrived in wolf form and shifted on or near the property.
I recognized most of them. There were the Larson brothers, Jackson, who was tall and redheaded with a lean muscular torso sprinkled with curly hair and strange orange eyes, and his younger brother, Kelley, also redheaded, but broad and stocky. Caesar Holm stood behind Kelley, his spiky blond hair almost gold in the sun. Kagan Poulson and Ridley Nissen were shoulder to shoulder, their thin wiry frames and dark eyes locked on my father. Three guys I didn’t recognize milled at the edges of the group, watching the surrounding woods and drive nervously.
Jackson appeared to be the spokesperson for the men, and the others nodded at his words. I couldn’t hear what was being said and headed for the front door to find out. Dad’s back was to the house, but the rest of them must have caught my movement and their heads snapped toward the window to stare at me.
The three I didn’t recognize looked surprised and I blushed when their eyes roamed over me. The others stood taller, and my father shook his head. I opened the door in time to hear him growl, “She’s not meeting anyone tonight.”
'Olivia’s Hunt' is unpublished and unedited. These stories may or may not be complete and may end on a cliffhanger. All works are the sole property of Michelle Bolanger and published through Risen Fiction. Copyright 2025 Michelle Bolanger. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be copied or reproduced without written consent from the author.