Her lips twitched with a small smile. “Still.”
“Yeah, I get it.” Viktor’s voice changed again as he — presumably — laid back down. “I’d do anything for you, Cam. I know that’s hard to believe right now, but it’s the truth.”
Itwashard to believe, but she wasn’t in the mood to pick a fight. Instead, Camille chose to let it go. Softly, she asked, “Can you tell me about your den?”
Viktor sucked in a breath. “Well… Damn, you have no idea how much that hits me right in the instinct, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “Makes me want to preen like a fucking peacock or something. My mate, asking about our den? Don’t think there’s anything as hot as that, weird as that sounds.”
My mate, asking aboutourden?
Camille’s heart lurched. Hope, traitorous and hungry, spread like ink in her mind, staining everything it touched. “So… are you going to tell me about it?”
“Nah.”
“No?”
“Nope.” She could hear the smile in his voice when he explained, “I want you to see it. The first time you step into our den, I want you to be surprised.”
“What if I don’t like it?”
“Well, then I’ll change it.” He was utterly matter-of-fact. There wasn’t even a hint of worry or annoyance at the prospect of years of work and thought being erased on a whim. “It’sourden. If you don’t like something, then that’s that. I couldn’t fight the urge to make you comfortable even if I wanted to.”
“Oh.”
They were quiet for a while, simply listening to each other breathe as pleasure melted into soft drowsiness. Eyelids heavy and heart aching, she finally murmured, “I should probably let you go. You’ve got a pack to look after tomorrow morning.”
While she had… nothing, really. Paperwork from the vineyard and union negotiations didn’t hold a candle to the important choices Viktor made every day. Helivedfor his pack. She used to feel bitter about that, but now she only felt sad.
It must be nice,she thought, biting her lip,to know you’re doing good every day. To know that so many people trust you. To have a place in their hearts.
“Cam…” Viktor’s voice softened and became strangely uncertain. “Would you mind if we just… kept the call going?”
Surprised but tentatively pleased, she dared to ask, “Why?”
“So I can hear you breathing for a while longer. It feels a bit like you’re here with me, sleeping in my bed.”
Camille dragged her blankets up over her shoulders. Fingers peeking out from under the fabric, she rested the tips of her claws on the screen of her phone. “Yeah,” she whispered, “it does feel like that.”
Equally hushed, he replied, “Then we’ll keep the call going, and you’ll be the first voice I hear tomorrow morning.”
She drew her legs up, hugging them close to her chest — which felt too full, too fragile, like the protective cage of her rips might shatter at any moment. “I’d like that.”
His sigh was long and relieved. “Good.”
“Goodnight, Vik.” She let her mind drift, imagining he was beside her, falling asleep slowly. Every breath, every rustle of cloth, was a comfort.
“Goodnight, Cam. Sweet dreams.”
ChapterNineteen
For the firsttime in years, and certainly since the day of the Summit, she slept well.
Not once did she wake up in a cold sweat, wondering why her alarm had not woken her to check on her mother in the middle of the night. When she cracked her eyes open the morning after their call, the first thing she noticed was the soft, even sound of someone else’s breathing.
She held her breath, straining to listen. The events of the previous evening rushed back with a heady flush of embarrassment and desire as she counted Viktor’s even breaths puffing through her phone’s speaker. She’d left it resting on the pillow next to her.
The sound of his breathing, the position of the phone beside her ear, and the rush of contentment that filled her stomach with butterflies — all of it brought on a wave of nostalgia that made her eyes sting.
How many times had she woken up like this as a teenager? For nearly a year, they’d spoken in secret every night. Most often, they fell asleep together, drifting off mid-conversation as the late hour took its toll. They rarelychoseto stop talking.
