My leopard uncurls slightly.Not enough to rise.Just enough to let me know she is still there.
I’m lying on a bed covered in thick blankets with a humming heater in the corner.A soft light glows from a nearby lamp.An intricate wooden dresser stands against the far wall.There’s a window, just a pane of glass, no bars.
This isn’t the compound.This isn’t a cage.
Someone sits near the bed and I freeze.His scent reaches me before I turn away.That storm-wild canine scent.The one from the rescue.
My stomach flips.
I turn my body just enough to see him.He’s sitting in a chair, forearms resting on his thighs, hands clasped loosely.His eyes are on me but not pinning me.Watching.Quiet and patient.
Everything about him is too big.Too strong.Too intense.My pulse jumps.
He notices.His expression tightens, not in anger, but concern.“You’re awake.”
His voice is deep, low, almost soothing.But I don’t trust soothing.I push myself up, bracing against the wall behind the bed.My arms shake.I grit my teeth through the weakness.He stands slowly, hands visible, like he’s approaching a feral animal.
Which ...is fair, I guess.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” he says.
They always say that.Usually right before they hurt me.
I swallow, my throat is sandpaper dry.“Where...?”
“The Katu pack compound," he answers softly.“It’s safe territory.”
Safe.That word again.I want to believe it, but I can’t force my mind to accept what he keeps saying.He takes a step closer, and I shrink back before I can stop myself.His jaw flexes, pain crossing his features, but he stops immediately.
“I won’t come closer.Not unless you want me to.”
Want.It’s been a long time since anyone cared about what I wanted.
My voice cracks when I manage to speak.“Why ...why did you take me?”
The bond flickers between us, weak and inconsistent, like a heartbeat struggling to find its rhythm.His breath catches.He knows it.He feels it too.
He swallows.“Because you’re...”
He cuts himself off, eyes flickering like he’s arguing with himself.
I wait.
Finally, he says quietly, “Because you were dying.And because you’re important.”
Important.That doesn’t feel real.
“I’m...”My voice trembles.“I’m not important.I’m nobody.”
His eyes flash.“Don’t say that.”
I flinch at the sharpness.He notices and immediately softens again.“You survived something unforgivable.That alone makes you something.”
Tears sting my eyes and I blink them away.He doesn’t approach.He doesn’t crowd.He gives me space, a full two feet of space, and somehow that makes me want to cry harder.
“Aria,” I mumble before I can stop myself.
His brows lift.“Is that your name?”
