He made to move, and her fingers tightened against his shoulders, as if afraid he’d vanish if she let go.
He didn’t.
He rose to his feet, pulling her with him, one steadying arm around her as she swayed. She leaned into him without protest, too tired to argue.
For now, that was enough.
Chapter 18 - Dominic
She had gone slack on the journey back down the mountain, the steady, rhythmic movements of his body lulling her exhausted body into sleep. He slowed his descent, something in him not wanting to disturb her.
Childish sentiment.
All the same, he moved gently.
It was nearing midnight by the time he slunk around the edges of the town, eyes wide and ears pricked for any humans out late. The majority of the human population of Skymist was utterly oblivious to the two thriving packs that lived amongst them, and as such, being in his wolf form in the town itself was strictly forbidden.
Being Alpha had to have some benefits.
Luckily, he was used to blending into the shadows, his enormous, dark form melting into the darkness. He crept through the trees, sticking to the edges of the houses, not stopping until he reached The Anchor. The lights were on, pack members inside. He could scent the blood, Julian and Theodore’s wounds.
His lips peeled back over his teeth. He didn’t want to deal with them right now.
Gently, he reached back, nudging Layla’s leg with his snout. She murmured out a sleepy “Wha-a…” before blinking away the sleep.
Instantly, her cheeks turned red.
He tried not to think about how adorable it made her look.
Carefully, he lowered himself to the ground, letting her slide off before disappearing around the back to the caches of clothes and boots they always kept hidden in some old crates. After shifting back and chucking on some clothes, he found Layla waiting for him, her breath whispering white against the cold.
“Come on,” he murmured, “let’s get you back home.”
She didn’t argue, just took his hand, letting him lead her back to the bookshop.
He could scent the tiredness in her muscles, the acrid twang of lactic acid from her hike. He swallowed down the urge to reprimand her, to try and get it into her head how foolish she’d been.
She knew.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly as they walked through the darkened streets. “I had a vision of the northern lights above the Peak. I thought that if I went up there, if I could prove it, that you might—”
“Hush,” he said, the reminder of his dismissal of her vision catching in his throat. “What’s done is done. I wish you’d told me, let me at least come with you, but we’re back now. You’re safe.”
She slowed, her feet shuffling against the stone. “Are you hurt?”
He chuckled, low and rumbling in his chest. “No, little mutt, I’m not hurt. Not badly. Your brother got the worst of it.”
She winced. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow, I don’t think he’ll—hey!”
He looked back, raising an eyebrow.
“What did you just call me?”
“I called you a little mutt.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I never said it was.”
