Submit and be still.
With a whine of frustration and defiance, his wolf eased some of the pressure. Malachi breathed deeply for a minute. Control. Remain in control. Always.
When he felt ready, he went inside. Flannery bounded to meet him, and he bent down to pick her up. When he straightened, the scars that passed through his stomach and right lung seared with pain. He tried to smooth his face, but April looked up from where she sat reading, and her face crinkled, no doubt to match his.
“Come sit, Mal, please.”
“I’m all right,” he said, but he carried Flannery to the couch and sank onto it. “I was out on some meat deliveries.”
“I haven’t asked how all that works—your business, I mean.”
“It’s straightforward. I hunt, clean, store, and deliver. Sometimes I provide preparation methods, if a customer wants to try smoking or some other method new to them.”
“They pay you for your knowledge too?”
“No, but I wouldn’t want payment for that.”
She smiled as though he’d said something predictable and…endearing. That look on his mate’s face still surprised him every time and brought a deep warmth into his heart. The wolf inside seemed soothed by it too, willing to lie down for a while. He sighed.
“What is it?” she said.
“You.” A smile found him through the weariness. “My mate.”
“That’s me.” But her smile became tentative along with her scent. “Are you hungry by chance?”
He ought to be ravenous. He’d eaten nothing since yesterday, but when he awoke this morning, food seemed like too much trouble, and his stomach, though empty, didn’t seem to care if he filled it or not.
“I think I could eat.” He hoped so. Anytime he failed to, the scent of April’s worry stung his nose and hurt his heart.
“Ember brought stir fry.”
Malachi set the kitten on his shoulder and followed her into the kitchen. “April, you don’t need to serve me.”
“No, I don’t need to. You’re not helpless, and I’m not obligated. But youarestill healing, and I wouldliketo make you a plate of food, so let me. Oh, and you should check out the contents of the tote bag on the table.”
He wandered to it and retrieved three stuffed animals. Strange.
“Those are loans from the Freeman girls. You’re supposed to sleep with one every night until you’re feeling better.”
“Thoughtful little pups,” he said, caught between humor and something raw inside him. He blinked a few times. Pesky contacts. He set Flannery down despite her mewling protest. “Please excuse me a minute.”
He went into the bathroom and stood over the sink, bowing a little to ease the constant aches. He pressed a hand to his right ribs. This scar throbbed especially today. They seemed to take turns. He removed the contacts and applied the eye drops April had reminded him to get when they shopped together for her clothes. Cool relief made him sigh.
When he returned to the dining room, April had set out a plate of steaming stir fry. He sat in front of it, and April sat across from him.
“I called my mom today,” she said. “She wants to see me. She wants to come to Tennessee, Mal.”
He welcomed a distraction from the food, but he didn’t want to disappoint his mate. “What did you tell her?”
“That it might not be safe at the moment. We’ll need to wait a little while.”
He sighed. Of course she understood. “Agreed.”
“But in a few weeks, if things have calmed down, I’d like us to meet her halfway for dinner or something. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
“She said she was sorry for—for what happened to me. I don’t think I realized how I needed to hearhersay it. To know my mom knows.” She blinked a few times, and a single tear fell. She drew a deep breath and let it out. “The leftover awkwardness from my time with Nik—it felt like that disappeared today, and she was just my mom again.”
