“I’ve put fresh blankets out, and there’s another mattress in the hallway if you’d like to use that one. I know they don’t smell the best.” She bites her bottom lip, her cheeks turning pink. “I just never have visitors. There is a huge pot of soup on, and I have fresh bread cooking. Help yourself. There is tea, coffee, beer, and juice. Biscuits and chips are in the pantry.”
She stands up and backs off.
“Goodnight.”
That’s it?
That’s it!
I lift my head and stare into the bowl. Soup. Hot, steaming soup with big chunks of meat.
I stand up and edge towards it, sniffing. It smells good. I can identify everything I’m smelling. I can’t find anything that shouldn’t be there.
She brought me in from the storm.
She’s in the kitchen, I spring towards her, ignoring the way my pack follows, alarmed by my actions, but I bail her up against the counter, and then I lean in, pressing my weight against her legs, and I lift my head and lick her knuckles.
Her cheeks turn pink as she snatches her hand back, but I don’t wait. I ignore everyone and go back to my food.
I eat it.
The whole bowl full.
And then I go to the bedroom, and I sort out the bed, finding myself a spot. A place no one expected me to have. Because we all know what happens, and I curl up and listen to the wind howl.
Wrath is the first to join me, curling up around me, resting his head on my neck. Hazard and Angel join next, but Khaos stays apart, his body between us and the door.
By silent agreement, we decide to give ourselves and Casey a break. Until the storm passes, we will stay in this form while she is around.
I use the time to confront my past. To allow the pack to erase the wounds and to let the strange healing of the human with a heart that can’t be poisoned work its magic.
Each day, I look forward to seeing her just a little bit more. My eyes stay on her, stray to her. If she is in the room, everything else fades away.
As each day passes, she becomes my obsession.
I can’t find it in me to care.
Casey
It’s funny how easilyfive days can pass when the wolves turn into their four-legged shape and stay that way. Tripping over a grumbling hairball is much less intimidating than tripping over a wall of muscles. Still, the shut out is cold, and though the days pass quickly, I’m more aware of how isolated I am than ever.
The couch, which has been a source of tension, stayed filthy. But I’ve just walked in from checking my property to find it immaculate. Miracles above.
A hand lands on my waist, guiding me forward. Khaos appears, and I’m ridiculously happy to see the man-shaped version. He points at the couch.
“Sit, please.”
I sit where Khaos indicates and give him my full attention.
“We’ve spent the last few days watching you. Seeing how you act and behave. Watching what you need. And we think we know.”
I lean back. “This should be entertaining, by all means, hit me with it.”
“You need a mate.”
The silence is a roar. I sit forward slowly and stare at Khaos. “I’m sorry, I thought I heard you say, mate.”
“I did. You need a family. Someone to come home to. Someone to help you and spend time with you.”
