"It’s perfect," she counters softly.
Something moves through me.Hope.I crush it down.
She takes another sip, holding the cup with both hands now that she can feel them. Her hair—damp from melted snow—curls slightly near her temples. Cheeks flushed with heat. Lips soft again instead of pale.
So alive.
Relief hits hard enough that I exhale slowly, quietly, so she won't hear.She could have died tonight. Then I never would have found my mate.
"You keep staring," she says suddenly.
I freeze.
She lifts a brow. "Something wrong?"
Everything. And nothing.
"You're warm again," I say. Not an answer, but true. "Your color has returned."
"Oh." Her fingers pause around the cup. "Yeah. Thanks for that. I guess I really did need help, after all.”
I can tell that the admission doesn’t come easily to her. My little warrior likes to do things on her own and take care of herself.
Silence blooms, soft, thick, pulsing with something that makes my chest ache.
She sets her cup aside, shifts, winces faintly as she adjusts her ankle. Then she looks at me in a way that feels like scrutiny and an invitation at the same time.
"Garruk. Earlier you said you'd give me answers when I'm warm." She swallows. "I'm warm now."
My pulse thunders.
She's not afraid. She's asking. Choosing to ask.
Still, I’m not ready. If she rejects me now, she will still have to stay until the storm passes and that will be too much to bear. So, why rush?
"You should rest," I say.
She narrows her eyes. "That's not an answer."
"It's what I can give. For now."
I turn away. Coward's move. But the truth sits heavy in my throat. Her reaction will decide more than she knows.
She could leave in the morning.
Reject the bond.
Walk back to her world and never look at me again.
"I'm not made of glass," she says behind me. "You don't have to tiptoe."
My hands curl against the table edge. "I'm not tiptoeing."
"Really? I've seen louder snowflakes."
I turn then, because I can't help it. She draws me the way heat draws breath. She's leaning back slightly on her hands, watching with open curiosity, ankle wrapped, hair a dark halo against my furs.
Beautiful.
