Just a little longer.Let me have this a little longer.
I watched the sunrise this morning. I’ve observed the way the light travels across the walls. I’ve listened to the birds singing, but none of that is anything compared to the music in my soul. And all it takes is lying here with Nora in my arms.
I barely want to breathe. I’m that worried about waking her up. The second she does, she’s going to realize that she slept in my arms, and she’s going to push me away. I can handle it… but that doesn’t mean I’m in a hurry to make it happen.
She fits against my body like a puzzle piece created with me in mind. I didn’t know such quiet joy could exist. I didn’t know I was capable of feeling this peaceful. Like I found where I’m meant to be.
Now I understand so much that was a mystery to me before. What it’s like to find something so precious, all you want is to hold it tight and protect it from the rest of the world.
Something close to pain flits across my heart when she stirs. So much for that. It takes all of three seconds for her to wake up and realize where she is. The body that was so warm and supple only a minute ago goes stiff before she wiggles out of my arms and back over to her side of the bed.
“Good morning.” As much as it irritates my wolf that she’s like this, there’s something almost cute about it. She’s so shocked by what is natural to me.
“Good morning,” she mumbles. Her heart is pounding loud enough for me to hear, and I sense her conflicted feelings about what happened last night. I’ve never heard anyone scream like that without shifting first. She was a wounded animal caught in a trap, begging for mercy.
It would be mean to drag this out any longer, which is why I get up instead of lounging in bed. Her choked gasp makes me stop halfway to the bathroom and turn around to face her. “What’s wrong?”
Her eyes are as big as saucers. “You were naked the whole time?”
I look down at myself and back at her. “Yes. You didn’t know that?”
“You were already in bed, covered up when I got in.” Bright red colors her cheeks, and I have to turn away before I start laughing. It’s kind of adorable.
After quickly taking care of business, I rejoin her. She tries and fails to keep her eyes off me—eventually, she’s going to learn she doesn’t have a choice in this. There will always be something about me that calls out to her, no matter how she feels about it. “It smells like someone is cooking bacon downstairs,” I muse while getting dressed. “You hungry?”
“Very,” she admits. Yeah, I guess screaming bloody murder after having a brutal nightmare will do that.
“Do you want to go down and have breakfast? I think it’s Declan’s turn to cook this morning, so you’re in for a treat.”
Her eyes are just as wide as ever, and she shakes her head almost violently. “No.” And that’s all she says, even pulling the blankets up a little closer to her chin like she needs protection. How long will it take for her to realize she doesn’t?
After offering to bring breakfast up to her, I go downstairs, giving her a little privacy. Tara and Zeke’s voices float my way before I’ve reached the bottom of the stairs, followed by Declan’s low rumble. All three of them look my way when I enter the room. Declan is at the stove, like I knew he would be, while Zeke and Tara sit at the table.
“How is she?” Tara asks, looking pained. “I heard her scream last night.”
“The whole neighborhood probably heard it,” Zeke points out before flinching under the weight of my stare. “Sorry.”
“She’s fine. Hungry. Still feeling shy.” That’s an understatement. But it’s easier than admitting I’m the reason she feels that way—well, me and Tara.
There’s a plate of French toast keeping warm in the oven. I take it out and grab some for the two of us before adding bacon and sliced fruit. Eventually, she’s going to have to get used to being around us—it’s kind of awkward, eating in the bedroom all the time.
“Listen,” Declan announces before I can leave, plating the rest of the bacon and taking it to the table. “I’m calling a pack meeting at the end of the week. I’m sure there have been rumors about what went down. I want the truth to get out—and I would like Nora to be there. But I won’t force her. I figured we’d let her know now so she can think it over.”
“I will.” Even though I can pretty much guess what her answer will be. I can’t blame her. She has never known anything but rejection from our pack. How is she supposed to look into the faces of people who vilified her for so long?
The question bounces around inside my skull as I carry the plates upstairs. Nora is dressed and sitting on the bed, which she made neatly. “Here you go. Declan has a special touch with French toast. I think you’ll like it.”
She accepts her plate without a word, first picking up a piece of bacon and taking a tentative bite before practically shoving the rest of it in her mouth all at once. “It’s delicious,” she almost moans, then cuts into the French toast with an urgency that almost makes me sad for her. Such a simple luxury. How many of these luxuries have I taken for granted in my life?
Yet another question for me to think over while I eat. “When I was downstairs, Declan told me he’s calling a pack meeting at the end of the week.”
Right away, her spine stiffens, but she doesn’t slow her eating.
“He would like you to be there—but you don’t have to,” I quickly add before she can freak out.
“Why would I have to be there?”
“Because he’ll be talking about banishing that worthless family of yours and setting the record straight about what happened to our parents.” I mean, that’s what I’m guessing. And if he doesn’t want to drop the bombshell, I’d be happy to do it myself. I want every single one of them to know it wasn’t her fault.
