Over a month.
The silver-and-white wolf pads toward the bed. His snout lines up with my ribs before he sits back on his hind legs, cocking his head, those two icy prisms captivate my attention. Blues, whites, and silvers, with tiny flares of the rainbow glinting between the shades. It’s the closest I’ve seen them since the accident. I could stare at them forever and not be any less entranced.
Not all in my mind,I remind myself a few times.I’m not crazy.
He’s here and he has answers to the questions I’ve been dancing around for months. I’m not going to waste time by not asking them. “Why?”
He hesitates a moment, then bows his snout, breaking eye contact.“You’re not ready.”
“Just like I’m not ready to see you? Well, the other you.”
“Yes.”There’s nothing but firm sincerity in his words.“Believe me, you have no idea how badly I want you to see me so you know, without a doubt, that I’m real.”
His eyes draw up to mine and he scoots closer until his snout rests in front of my lap on the bed. Whether I’m struck by his words or his puppy dog eyes, my hands reach out and scratch the small swirl of silver tufted between his brows. It’s nowhere else on his head, but similar markings trail the upper half of his fur.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, stroking his snowy snout. He sighs, content, almost making me forget that I’m petting a large wolf. A large wolf in my bedroom.
“I want you to be happy. To thrive.”
“Bit of a tall order,” I snark. “There’s got to be more to it than that. Why do you care so much about my happiness?”
“All I’ll say is that your happiness matters to me. It matters to me a great deal.”
My hands still, ribs pinching. “I’m not sure if that’s supposed to frighten me?”
“I never want to frighten you. Though I understand why you might be scared. You don’t fully trust it.”The wolf’s icy gaze drops to the floor, but I scratch under his chin until he’s facing me again.
“Trust what?”
“Your mind.”
He’s not wrong. In fact, the most frightening thing about him is how well he seems to know me.
“It’s hard to trust your mind when you’ve barely been holding on for a year. Sometimes I dream that I’m still drowning. That my mom is there next to me. Dead.” My eyes shift to my lap, and he nuzzles my hands that fidget there. I run them back through his fur. They quiver with each stroke, but the tension in my chest slowly uncoils. “How do you trust a mind that never lets you getpast the most horrific day of your life? How do I even know that you’re not just my imagination here to help me cope?”
“Do I seem imaginary?”He hums, the deep tone echoing through me.
“Well, no… But that doesn’t mean much.” I shrug and continue to brush his fur, scratching behind his ears. “Pretty sure anyone who walked in right now would have concerns. Who knows what’s going to happen with Blake…”
I should text him and make sure he’s okay. Being chased out by a giant wolf with glowing kaleidoscope eyes isn’t something that happens every day. But grabbing my phone and dealing with him is the last thing I want to do.
He’d come here upset about rehearsals. I should have been there for him however he needed me. How long had I waited for the reassurance of making our relationship public without fear of it messing with our careers? I should be jumping for joy. Instead, I’m confused by the weight lifted off my chest from Jax running him out of the apartment.
What does that say about me?
His furry body moves with the reverberation of his chuckling, shaking the bed and rattling something within me. I shift, crossing and uncrossing my legs as I try to get comfortable.“Don’t worry, Tempest, your little prince will be fine.”His voice lowers, becoming serious.“There’s nothing I want more than for you to believe in how real this is.”
“I doubt that.”
“Don’t.”He doesn’t say more but the coarseness of his tone tells me that any questions I try to ask about the subject will only be met with silence and more riddles. And right now, I’m too tired for games. Too tired to deconstruct any of this.
It’s already late, considering I need to be up at 4:30 a.m., but I don’t want this night to end. If I go to sleep, who says Jax won’t be gone when I wake up, taking his answers with him?
“Get some rest,”Jax insists, as if reading my thoughts.
“Can you stay?” I ask, throat thick as I rasp out the words. Not that he can tell me everything. Not that any of this makes sense.
There’s a beat of silence where only his bushy brows lift in surprise before he responds.“Of course. So long as it doesn’tcreepyou out too much.”
