It gave me a deep sense of satisfaction to know that she was no longer out there alone in the woods, starving and afraid.
She whimpered in her sleep, turning.
“No!” The word tore from her lips with terror and desperation.
Tossing the covers aside, she sat up, panting heavily. In the moonlight filtering through the cracks in the shutters on the cabin windows, she glanced around wildly, as if trying to remember where she was and how she got here. Then she slapped her hand over her mouth and glanced my way.
I rose on my elbow. “A bad dream?”
She nodded.
“Sorry I woke you up,” she blurted.
“I wasn’t sleeping yet. What was the dream about?”
She cast her gaze downward.
“Bad things…” she muttered so quietly, it was barely a whisper.
“About the swamp?”
“That too,” she sighed.
“You’re safe here, Khala. I won’t let any bad things happen to you anymore.”
She snapped her gaze to me, peering through the darkness as if trying to peek inside my very soul. I didn’t know what she was searching for, but I wanted to give her whatever she needed. I’d never had anyone depend on me this much before. It raised a strong sense of protectiveness in me now.
“Go to sleep, my wild thing,” I drawled, trying to soften my deep voice to sound more reassuring and less growly.
She remained sitting, crushing the covers in her fidgeting hands. Her eyes darted around the room as if searching for hidden dangers in every corner.
I heaved a long breath and lifted my cover, exposing the unused side of my spacious bed.
“Fine, you can sleep with me tonight. But just until you get used to this place,” I added, remembering that it was important to set boundaries early on when training hunting dogs.
Khala wasn’t a dog, though. And I’d given in to her every single time so far. I sighed. It just proved so hard to say no to those large, sad eyes of hers.
She didn’t wait for me to invite her twice. Jumping out of her bed, she padded over to mine promptly, then climbed under the covers and stilled awkwardly. It didn’t feel like she took any space at all, balancing precariously on the very edge of my bed. There was no way she was comfortable like that, and by the sound of her rapid, shallow breathing, she wasn’t falling asleep anytime soon.
“That dream really scared you, huh?” I asked.
She nodded, tucking the covers under her chin. Her shoulders tensed, as if she was taking extra effort not to look at the room behind her, terrified of the imagined horrors lurking in the shadows.
“Fine. Come here, you poor little thing.” I lifted my arm, freeing the space next to my chest.
She gave me a cautious glance.
“I don’t know what scared you,” I assured her. “But you don’t ever have to be afraid ofme. Alright?”
She nodded, scooting closer, and I tucked her against me. She exhaled a long, shuddering breath, finally relaxing a little with her nose pressed into my chest.
“Thank you, Grat. Thank you for being so kind to me.”
“Kindness costs nothing,” I waved her off, but she wouldn’t let me dismiss her appreciation.
“In my life, kindness has been rarer than diamonds, and I treasure it more than any riches in the world,” she said softly.
I ran a soothing hand down her hair. It was still damp after the bath. She smelled of soap with a hint of pine. My fingers slid over her spine, and I could count every single vertebra through the tunic she was wearing.
