His clothes may not remain now, but the blood that coated his wolf's fur clings to his face in splatters.
It should not make him hotter, but it does.
Clearing my throat, I try to get his attention again. “Are you okay?” I ask, and he sucks in a breath.
“Good. You?”
I nod before tilting my head and taking him in. I wonder if this is what it was like for him the moment he came down into the basement after I bludgeoned the man I thought was my father.
He held me as I sobbed.
He guided me back to the light.
And now, as I stand here blinking at him, I can't help but want to offer him the same thing.
Yet he doesn't look sad, and he doesn't seem to need guidance, so I’m not quite sure how to help.
As if sensing my inner turmoil, he cuts the distance between us, cupping my face in his hands as he stops right in front of me.
“I’m okay, as long as you don't hate me for that,” he states, and my eyebrows pinch in confusion.
“Hate you for what?” He looks at me bewildered, eyebrows rising to his hairline as he points over his shoulder at the dead wolf. “Oh.” I rub my lips together nervously, eager not to sound heartless, but the words part my lips regardless. “I don't hate you for that.”
If anything, my insides curl with emotions over the fact that his instinct was to take a primal protective stance over me. Would he have done that if I hadn’t been here?
I don't dare ask. I'm too caught up in the idea that it was for me.
I’ve spent most of my life on the receiving end of brutal force. Having someone defend me against harm is enough to sweep me off my feet.
“Two seconds, okay?” he breathes, pressing his lips against my forehead, and I nod before quickly feeling the cool breeze of emptiness as he disappears again.
My gaze latches onto the dead wolf as my senses heighten, the sound of the wind blowing through the trees consuming me. My attention snaps around the area, expecting another surprise to jump out from behind the foliage, and as if summoning it myself, a creak comes from behind me.
Whipping my gaze around, I find the source is a fully dressed Rion. I gape at him, and he stares at me in amusement.
“What?” he asks, and I blink at him a few times before I manage to clear my throat.
“I guess I forget that you have other powers and strengths, like speed, since you're always walking so casually at my side,” I state, and he hums in agreement.
He’s back to cupping my face a second later. “It seems when I'm with you, I like to slow it down.” My breath lodges in my throat as my heartbeat whooshes in my ears. “Now, ready for the basement?” he asks casually, and I clear my throat, eyeing the lifeless wolf.
“What about?—”
“Someone's already coming to take care of that, Petal,” he explains, running a hand down my arm in comfort. “Now, the basement?” he reiterates, and I nod as the adrenaline rushing through me starts to calm.
13
ELODIE
“I’d love to know why there's always crazy-ass things lurking in the basements here,” I blurt as the tree line begins to thin, making way for more light to filter through the branches. Not that there’s much with the darkness rolling in.
“I think that's where everybody puts their skeletons these days, instead of putting them in the closet,” he muses, and I offer him a half smile as I spot movement up ahead.
I'm quickly greeted by the sight of Thorne and Ocean waiting for us.
Thorne’s brows gather the moment he sees us, and Ocean follows his line of sight, peering over her shoulder. Her face is animated as she takes in thetwo of us before her features quickly morph to the same as Thorne’s.
I frown in confusion, unsure what’s going on until I peer at Rion, and I'm quickly reminded of what just happened. Despite his clothes being back in place, the blood still remains.
