“You okay?” I asked cautiously, not wanting to sound suspicious. I was going for concerned. I figured he had the right to be a little off considering everything he’d gone through while trapped in his wolf form and abused for so long, but it never hurt to check in.
“Yeah, yeah.” He said it in a way that made it sound like he wasn’t okay at all. “Got a lot on my mind.”
“Anything you want to share?” We weren’t that close, but I hoped he knew I was more than happy to listen to anything that was troubling him.
“Nothing that’s new. Same ol’, same ol’.”
“Leo?” I hedged. Although a good part of me resented Ricky for carrying me out of the laboratory and keeping me away for the past week, I also understood that he’d had to go against his very wolf nature. He chose to follow Leo’s orders and keep me safe rather than save his best friend. I had to respect that even if I hated it.
“Pretty much.”
“I’m sorry.” It was all I could think to say, because really, what else was there? We’d gambled, and it hadn’t turned out in our favor. As a result, we’d lost someone incredibly important to us, even if Leo was important to each of us in different ways.
“You ain’t got nothing to apologize for.”
“Feels like I do.”
Ricky let out a sigh that was jam-packed full of emotion and scuffed his shoe against the ground. I got the sense he was thinking, so I didn’t interrupt him. But it seemed like he wasn’t quite done grappling with whatever was in his brain, because after quite a pregnant pause, he tipped his head.
“You be safe now. I’ll be back soon.”
“I will,” I promised.
With that, Ricky shifted into a wolf and took off into the trees.
I watched him go, idly observing all the differences between him and Leo in their wolf forms. Ricky was still far larger than the standard lupine, but several inches shorter than his alpha, and he didn’t have nearly as much mass. His coat was darker with a reddish hint, and his eyes were bright yellow. And now that he had quite a few good meals into him, his bones didn’t show anymore, making him look much more like the apex predator he was supposed to be.
Once he disappeared out of sight, I headed into my greenhouse to work on some climbing jade babies as well as golden pothos nodes. It was soothing, especially with my cats all around me. Goober was still on the hunt, winding around my legs occasionally and eek-eek-eeking like he usually did whenever he saw a particularly pudgy squirrel scurrying past the kitchen window. But there were no squirrels here as far as I could tell, so I chalked it up to my Maine Coon being a silly Maine Coon.
Sure enough, about an hour or so into my propagation groove, the sky opened up and rain poured down. It was impossible not to think of the time Leo and I had been caught in the rain together, as well as everything that had happened after it. It had all seemed like a fairy tale at the time. Now, my story felt like more of a tragedy.
Depressing.
I tried not to think about it, though, which was easier said than done. So, I put all my focus on my plants, being as meticulous as I possibly could.
I stayed out until it was time to feed the cats again. Once all their bowls had the appropriate serving in them, I realized I needed to feed myself, too. I made a salad out of the greens and tossed some shredded chicken on top. It was no steak smothered in deliciously caramelized onions and sauteed mushrooms, but it was plenty tasty—and there was the added satisfaction that I had been the one to grow it.
Granted, it was impossible not to think what Leo would say if he was eating it. I knew he needed a lot of protein in his diet, but it never stopped him from complimenting whatever I served him from my garden. I closed my eyes, trying not to think how excited I was to feed him his first garden-fresh tomato or pick a cucumber off the vine and slice it up for us. Iwouldget him back before either of those were ready to harvest.
I swore it.
I stared out the window as I ate, watching the rain. Once I was done, I quickly did the few dishes from the day and settled in to read a book with my cats curled around me.
I had become so used to being alone in my home. Used to the quiet. Used to the emptiness. But having Leo and Ricky in my space for such a short time had made me accustomed to company. To the warmth of another person. To being able to walk up to either of them and start a conversation. Hopefully, I’d get that back soon enough.
I just needed to come up with a better plan.
With so manyheavy things on my mind, sleep didn’t exactly come easy. Just when I’d managed to drift off, a loud bang from the kitchen had me sitting bolt upright in my bed. I needed to be careful otherwise I was gonna throw my back or my neck out. Maybe both. Then I really would be useless.
My cats scattered as I put on a robe and hurried down to the kitchen, grabbing the bat I kept at the door along the way. While I knew investigating such a sound would likely get me killed in a horror movie, I’d lived out in the country long enough to know that many things that went bump in the middle of the night had natural explanations beyond an intruder.
“Ricky?” I exclaimed as I rounded the corner into my kitchen, the bat raised.
He looked worse for the wear, battered and absolutely filthy. It was a bit of a shock, especially since it was so similar to how Leo had first stepped into my kitchen. Except Ricky was Ricky, and Leo was Leo, and my heart belonged only to the alpha.
“Ven,” he wheezed, limping over to my kitchen table and plopping into a chair. “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to patch me up?”
“What the hell happened?” I asked, immediately going into triage mode. Step one was grabbing my first-aid kit, step two would be evaluating his wounds, then anything after that would come from the information gained in step two.
