“I’ve got to tell Quinn at some point. He’ll probably still admire me more than he should. But knowing’s going to take something from him he can never get back.”
And then he had nothing left. No words, no strength. He forced himself to sit up, to lean back in the chair. He had to see her eyes. They were simply Ember’s, deep and gray, lit with the fire that made her name so right. They still held no horror. Only sorrow…for him.
“Would you…say something?” he said.
She took his hand between both of hers. “I’m not leaving you.”
After she put his trust through a shredder, Aaron scooped up the confetti and offered it to her again. Last night she had forced vulnerability onto him, battered her way in and trampled him in the process. Now he exposed his wounds and sat in quiet exhaustion, leaving her to choose what she’d do with them. Leaving her to choose to open herself too…or not. Despite her vague explanation for such an ultimate trespass, he hadn’t asked for more. But he deserved more.
Later though. Right now a fine tremor gripped his frame. The hunger of the wolf left him looking gaunt, as though he’d shed dozens of pounds overnight. He was grubby, in real need of a shower. And…
She tugged at the collar of his T-shirt. On the right side of his neck were two red blisters, half an inch apart. “What’s this?”
He ducked his head. “Shock collar.”
“From when you kept hitting the fence.” Heat coursed through limbs. “I did this.”
He didn’t contradict her. She could thank him for letting her feel her guilt. It would change her.
“Were you isolated from the pack because of your past?” she said.
He shook his head, then nodded, then shook his head again. Oh, Aaron. His utter exhaustion hurt her heart.
“Never mind. Time for bed.”
“No, I… I’ll sleep soon, but maybe we could…sit awhile.”
“If you’re sure,” she said.
“Yeah.”
She let him lean on her as he rose from the table. Then he seemed to revive a little. He trudged after her to the living room, and they settled on the couch, side by side. She laced her fingers between his and tugged his hand into her lap.
She had no intention of further talk. Her side of the vulnerability scale was already far too light, and he seemed incapable of processing words right now anyway. But in a minute he said, “Malachi thinks it’s a little…well, he saysodd, but he meansunhealthy. I just—I don’t want to hunt, not as a wolf. I don’t want to wake up and remember…”
Killing and consuming a living creature. Of course he wouldn’t want that. Not Aaron.
“I don’t care that they hunt. I just don’t want to.”
She nodded.
“Mal brings in fresh raw meat for the pack every month, but I can’t even eat that. I guess I don’t want any memory of eating with fangs. It’s too close to…” He pressed his palms to his eyes.
“Aaron, I’m asking you now. Please let yourself rest. I’ll hear whatever you want me to tomorrow.” And ask to be heard in return. Expose the frightened little girl inside. The thought made her stomach tighten, but she would do it.
In a few minutes he was breathing easily again. And…talking again. “Quinn’s fortunate. He loves hunting on four legs because it doesn’t mean anything to him but working with his pack, bringing down meat to be shared.” He set his free hand on top of hers. “He couldn’t hurt your sister, Ember.”
Startled out of her resolve of silence until he talked himself to sleep, she straightened on the couch. “What?”
“She doesn’t want him home. That’s why she put it to you the way she did. Made it sound like the pack wouldn’t allow it.”
“Because of something Quinn did to her?”
“He changed in front of her. He snarled, but he didn’t bite.”
“Oh no. Not Poppy. No wonder she…”
Ember shut her eyes as the scene played out in front of her. Her fragile sister so determined to have a family and home that were safe, quiet, easy. One baby had been almost too much disruption, and as babies went Quinn hadn’t been difficult. If that baby who’d grown into a peacemaking young man had become a wolf and snapped at her…
