She climbed back into bed without protest this time, lifting the coverlet and slipping beneath it. And when Buck jumped up after her, she didn’t even think about telling him to stay on top of the covers or keep his distance.
Instead, as soon as he settled beside her, she turned toward him and put her arms around his thick furry neck.
“Oh, Buck,” she whispered softly. “I’m so glad I found you.”
The huge wolf made a low sound in his chest—not quite a growl and not quite a whuff. It was more like a rumbling murmur of agreement. He leaned into her at once, letting her press herself against him.
Kiera buried her face into his ruff and breathed him in.
He smelled warm and wonderful and male, with that same impossible scent of cedar and spice and fur that had tangled itself all through her crazy dream. It was so comforting–his scent completely banished the lingering fear Higgs had stirred up in her.
Buck felt safe…solid…protective.
His body was so big and warm and strong that lying against him made her feel sheltered in a way she hadn’t felt in…well, maybe ever. Jerome had never made her feel sheltered. If anything, she had usually felt like the stronger one in that relationship. The one who had to keep things together and smooth over problems and pretend everything was fine.
But Buck…Buck simply was strength.
She couldn’t explain it and couldn’t deny it–the huge wolf just felt right.
Kiera must have felt right to him too, because he shifted a little, curling more fully around her, and she felt one huge paw settle lightly over her waist as if he was holding her in place. The gesture should have seemed ridiculous coming from an animal, but somehow it didn’t. It felt natural. Comforting.
Kiera sighed and snuggled closer, letting the warmth of his big body soak into hers. Outside, the sanctuary was quiet again. The chiming trees whispered faintly in the night breeze and somewhere far off, one of the nocturnal creatures native to the area gave a soft, eerie cry. But inside the home-dome everything was warm and still and safe.
At last, the tight knot inside her chest began to loosen.
“That’s better,” she murmured into Buck’s fur. “Much better.”
He answered with another soft whuff, as if pleased she was calming down.
Kiera smiled a little in the darkness and stroked his thick ruff one more time. Then she let her eyes close.
She was still a woman alone on a strange planet…still a little too far from help…still more shaken by Higgs’ visit than she wanted to admit.
But she wasn’t quite as alone as she had been anymore–Buck was here.
And somehow, for tonight at least, that felt like enough.
Breathing in his warm, wonderful scent, Kiera let herself drift back toward sleep at last, comforted by his presence and by the steady heat of his huge furry body wrapped around hers.
14
BRUX
Buck—Brux, because he still kept his true name tucked away inside himself like a secret treasure—regained more and more of his mind and memories over the next week.
At first, the change was subtle. It came in flashes—little bursts of understanding and reason that lit up his thoughts like sparks in the dark. But with every day he spent at Kiera’s side, those sparks grew brighter and more frequent. The more she touched him, talked to him, and included him in the rhythm of her life, the more the fog inside his head receded.
Soon he was no longer merely understanding a word here and there—he understood almost everything.
Which was fortunate, because Kiera talked to him constantly. Not that he minded. In fact, he loved it. Her sweet, musical voice was rapidly becoming his favorite sound in the universe. And it seemed to Brux that’s she’d missed having someone to speak to.
She talked to him in the mornings while she got dressed, telling him what needed to be done that day and which animals she wanted to check on first. She talked to him while she drank her strange, bitter—smelling hot drink out of a giant mug that said World’s Okayest Zoologist on the side. She talked to him while she fed him breakfast—which was often the same food she ate, since he had made it clear he didn’t like the dry protein nuggets—and while she walked with him through the sanctuary, naming every creature they passed as though he were a student in a class she was teaching.
“That’s a pair of spoolers,” she told him one bright morning as they passed an enclosure filled with fat, six—legged creatures covered in turquoise fur.
Each one had a striped tail that ended in a tuft of long feathers, which they used to twine around the low branches of the climbing frames in their enclosure so they could hang upside down to sleep.
“They look cute, but don’t ever let one spit at you, Buck. Their saliva is sticky enough to glue your shoes to the floor,” she added.
