“It’s only creepy when you aren’t invited. Besides, I’m going to make you work for it.” I get up from the bed and head toward the bathroom, leaving the door open while I brush my teeth.
“Is that so?”
The slight growl in his tone almost makes me choke on my toothpaste. I spit the rest out and then rinse my mouth, talking between swishes of water. “You seem to—know—a lot about—me.” I pat my mouth and chin dry on the towel. “I don’t know that much about you.”
When I get back into the room, I turn off the light and cross over to the bed. Jax lies at the foot of it, and I tuck myself under the covers. The room is a bit colder since he’s here, but there’s a different coldness that settles in me because he feels much too far away.
“Why don’t you come up here?” I suggest, patting the bottom of the bed a few times. When nothing happens, I tap it again. “Come on. If you’re going to be in here making the room cold, the least you could do is keep my feet warm.”
He hops onto the bed, jostling it. I yawn, stretching out my hip one final time before I curl around myself within the covers.
Jax’s glowing eyes are the only things I make out in the darkness. They watch me with a soft curiosity far too gentle for his formidable beast. If his wolf is this massive, I wonder how tall he is in histrue form. What does he look like? What is the daily life of an immortal harbinger? Where did he come from?
“You lured me here to ask me something. Out with it.”
Luredhim? As if I’m the predator and not the prey in this scenario.
Weighing where to begin, I bite my bottom lip. Jax growls so low I almost don’t hear the sound, though the bed quivering would be impossible to miss. I clench my thighs tightly together. Clearing my throat, I try not to think on that too much, finally figuring out what question to start with.
Jax shifts on the bed, the warmth of his large, furry body sinking into my toes. Tugging the blanket around my shoulders, I lay my head on the pillow. “Tell me about yourself. And start from the beginning.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting rest?”
“I am, but I also like some background noise.”
“My life story is your background noise?”
“Now you’re just stalling,” I tease, and his laughter jiggles the bed.
“Fine. You caught me… I’m not used to anyone asking about me.”His soothing baritone whispers against the shell of my ear, but his words cleave a hollow ache between my ribs. He sounds…lonely. I dare a final glance at the bottom of the bed and the hulking wolf lying there. Those prismatic irises break up the darkness with their unnatural illumination.“Once upon a time, there was a young mortal boy who lived in Boston and loved wintry days full of hot cocoa and playing hockey…”
I’m half asleep but somehow manage to cling to every word, as if they’ve been carved into my subconscious, deeper than any dream.
When “Ice Cream” startles me awake, I jolt upright, half expecting Jax to be gone. His chuckle is a welcome reassurance.
“Why do you keep changing my alarm?” I ask, tossing the blanket over his head and then ripping it back, teasing him.
“This song suits you better.”He states it as fact, then adds,“I know you prefer something upbeat. Wouldn’t want you oversleeping.”
Nope. Wouldn’t want that. Though if I could choose a day to do it, it would be today.
“When will I see you again?” I ask him, unwilling to leave it to chance.
“I’m not sure.”His voice is a bit sullen as he pushes to sit upright on the bed, towering over me.“But you can always reach me in winter.”
“I can?”
“Yes.”His snout bows down, black nose moving toward my sternum but not touching.“Just press on your mark and call to me. I’ll come as fast as I can.”
My palm glides up over my shirt. Mymark. Not a scar. And it somehow connects me to him. “Here?”
Jax nods, and I brush the fur spanning his cheek, taking a final look at those eyes. No longer a dream but a firm reality. Does he know today’s the anniversary? I doubt it.
Sighing, I pull myself from the bed and walk to my dresser, picking out clothes for the day.
“I’m sorry, I need to go. Winter calls.”
“Bye, Jax.”
