I felt like an idiot saying it out loud. I was a grown woman. Independent. Self-sufficient. I’d survived my parents abandoning me, my grandparents dying, running a failing business. I didn’t need anyone.
But right now? Right now I really wanted him to stay.
My bed was definitely too small for a six-foot-nine werewolf. This was probably a terrible idea for about seventeen different reasons. But I didn’t care.
He didn’t hesitate. Just climbed into bed behind me and pulled me against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, one hand splayed across my stomach, the other tucked under my head. Our bodies melted together as if we’d been doing this for years instead of never.
The bed was ridiculously cramped. His legs hung off the edge. We were pressed together with zero personal space. It should have been uncomfortable.
Instead, it felt perfect. A cocoon of warmth and safety and him.
I closed my eyes and tried not to think about the break-in. Tried not to see that man’s face. The gun he’d been holding. How close I’d come to-
“You are safe now,” Mal murmured against my hair. “I promise. No one will harm you while I draw breath.”
I believed him. That was the scary part. I actually believed him.
The man who broke in. I’d recognized him eventually. It was the guy from the bookstore. The one who’d tried to flirt with me. The one Mal had growled at in his wolf form until he’d run away.
Apparently my newly successful bookstore meant people thought I had cash worth stealing. He must have watched me all day. Seen the line of customers. Assumed I was raking in money hand over fist.
Which I was, technically. But it was all going back into the business. Into inventory and repairs and keeping the lights on.
I’d been so fucking terrified. Not just of being robbed or getting hurt, but of losing everything I’d worked for. Everything my grandparents had built. Having it all taken away just when I’d finally started to turn things around. I’d been terrified that this was how I died at twenty-three - alone in my apartment before I’d done any of the things I wanted to do, before I’d lived, before I’d even lost my virginity to a werewolf who looked at me like I was the moon and stars.
That thought had crossed my mind while I’d been holding that knife with shaking hands. If I died tonight, I’d die a virgin. Die without knowing what it felt like to be with Mal.
Things had really come into perspective after that. How long was I going to keep resisting? How long was I going to pretend I didn’t want him?
How much time was I willing to waste being scared?
“Thank you,” I whispered as my eyes grew heavy. “For coming back.”
His arms tightened around me. Pulled me impossibly closer. “Always, little mate. Always.”
***
I woke up wrapped around Mal like a koala bear.
My leg was thrown over his hip. My arm was across his chest. My face was pressed against his pec. And I was drooling on him.
Oh god.
I tried to extract myself without waking him, carefully peeling myself off his body and pretending this never happened. In the process, I got a clear view of his wounds in the morning light streaming through my window.
I froze.
They looked better. Actually, significantly better. The angry red had faded to pink. The edges were clean, the tissue knitting together properly. They were starting to scar.
He was healing.
My stomach twisted. Would he leave once he was fully healed? Once he could cross back through the portal without risking his life?
“Good morning, little mate.”
I jerked my gaze up to his face. “You’re awake.”
“I have been awake for quite some time.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “You are very affectionate in your sleep.”
