We had separate baths.
I scrubbed myself clean in the bathroom attached to my mother’s room, the one I’d claimed as my own. The water ran pink with dried blood before finally going clear. I stayed under the spray until my skin pruned, letting the warmth chase away the last of the cold.
I emerged dressed in another of my mother’s dresses to find Caelan already in the kitchen. He’d found food, simple things, bread and cheese and dried fruit, and he’d arranged them on the counter.
I joined him. We ate in silence, passing items back and forth, and the domestic normalcy of it was almost jarring after everything we’d been through. Here we were, sharing a meal in my deadparents’ cabin, not talking about any of the massive issues between us. Very healthy.
Then came the dilemma of the rooms.
We stood in the hallway, suddenly awkward again. There were multiple bedrooms. He could take any of them. We could sleep apart, maintain boundaries, keep things professional until we’d had our conversation.
But my body ached for him.
My wolf whined, wanting its mate close. My human heart, despite everything, craved his presence. We needed to talk. There was work to do before we could move forward. But I also knew I’d sleep better with him beside me.
“You can sleep in my bed,” I said at last. “Just sleep.”
His eyes flashed with relief, hope, longing - before he schooled his expression into careful neutrality. He was trying so hard to give me space. It was almost cute.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Just... sleep.”
He nodded, a little too eager despite his attempt to hide it. “Okay.”
Smooth, Caelan. Very subtle.
We lay down on opposite sides of the bed.
The space between us felt vast, a chasm of unspoken words and unresolved hurt. I stared at the ceiling, acutely aware of his breathing, his warmth, the way the mattress dipped where he lay.
But exhaustion won. Within minutes, I was asleep.
***
When I woke, sunlight was streaming through the window, painting golden stripes across the bed. My body felt better, rested, my remaining aches almost nothing now. Supernatural healing was officially my favorite perk of this whole werewolf thing.
And Caelan was wrapped around me from behind.
His arm was draped across my waist, his chest pressed to my back, his breath steady against my neck. We must have migrated toward each other in sleep, drawn together by instinct or the bond or simple human need.
So much for opposite sides of the bed.
I closed my eyes. Allowed myself one moment of happiness.
He was here. The nightmare was over. Soren was captured, Vix was locked away, and the man who killed my parents would face justice. For the first time in weeks, I was safe.
But we still needed to talk.
I untangled myself from his embrace, careful not to wake him - though I failed. His eyes fluttered open as I sat up, confusion giving way to awareness.
“Morning,” I said softly.
“Morning.” His voice was rough with sleep. Unfairly attractive, honestly.
I got up, freshened up in the bathroom, and changed into a clean dress, my mother’s again, a soft green wool that fit almost perfectly. By the time I stepped out, Caelan had done the same, wearing clothes that must have been left in one of the other rooms.
We gathered the remaining snacks and took them to the living room.
