That earns me a soft laugh. He reaches for my hand. Not quite holding it, but not…notholding it either. My belly squirms. Is this what butterflies feel like? I swear this is what butterflies feel like.
Rowen rests his head on the back of the couch, thumb brushing absently against my skin. My heart slows, calming for the first time all day.
Again, I think about the night everything changed—the bite, the sickness, the emptiness that has followed me ever since. For so long, I’ve hated myself for it. For being forced into it. Letting it happen.
But sitting here now, warmth seeping into me from where Rowen’s hand touches mine, I wonder if maybe it wasn’t all ruin. Maybe something good found me in the wreckage. The only question is, how do I keep them safe?How do I keep Rowen safe?
I lean toward him, wrapping an arm around his middle and tossing the blanket over him too.
Rowen sighs contentedly, turning his head to look at me. This close, I can see gold flecks in his dark eyes. “You okay?”
I don’t answer. I just hold him. Closing my eyes, I breathe in his familiar pine and cinnamon scent.
The answer is yes. For this moment, this terribly short, fleeting moment, I am okay. The world outside is still dangerous, Foxx is still out there, Rip still thinks he owns me—but this, right now, is a tiny piece of happiness.
And Rip can’t take that away from me.
If happiness can exist in a moment this small, maybe it’s enough to start believing in more.
18
TOBIAS
After dinner, Rowen and I disappear into his room to watch another low-budget movie. It’s amusing how into them he is.
Ivy pokes her head in after a while, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed with excitement. “It’s time.”
Rowen grins, sitting up. He’s so relaxed after his run earlier, like shifting really had calmed him. “Okay. Be right there.”
He climbs off the bed, gathering his pillows and comforter, then collecting the spare blanket from the beanbag.
“What are you doing?” I ask, half laughing.
His grin widens like he’s been waiting all night for this. “Go get your pillow.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
I frown, but his eyes are dancing. Whatever this is, I already know it’s something pack-related. Which means I’m probably going to love it and be completely out of my depth at the same time.
I cross the hall to my room, grabbing my pillow just like he said. When I step back out, Red and Sage hurry past me, arms full of blankets and giggling. Grant appears from a door halfway down, carrying his pillow andblanket too. And behind him, Neal is hauling a huge load as well, trying not to smile.
“Seriously, what is going on?”
Rowen tips his head toward the stairs. “You’ll see.”
When we reach the bottom, I stop dead in my tracks and gasp. The entire living room has been transformed. Furniture shoved back, end tables stacked, a few lamps unplugged and set aside. The only light in the room comes from the Christmas tree.
And underneath the tree—around it, really—everyone is spreading their blankets and comforters on the floor, creating one enormous nest of color and warmth.
For a moment I can only stand there, taking it in and grinning stupidly.
Rowen claims a spot near the fireplace, then glances at me over his shoulder. “Come on.”
Something warm and fizzy bubbles in my chest. “Are you serious? Everyone sleeps together on Christmas Eve?”
“Yup.” He smirks as he tosses a pillow down. “It’s the one time of year we sleep like an actual pack of wolves.”
