Besides, I don’t have a better plan.
My ears twitch, and this time I don’t hesitate to snatch Maris up, one arm around her hips as I swing her into my arms, doing my best to fit my bulk behind a tree. She doesn’t protest, just snuggles deeper into my chest. She trusts me, and I would revel in that fact if not for the noise I just heard.
The humans are back, and Maris tenses in my arms when she hears them too. One of them shouts and she cringes. They said something about the traps, of that I am certain, and I growl softly under my breath.
“Don’t,” Maris breathes in my ear. “They’ll be angry that we sprung their traps, but if we hurt one of them it will only stir them up worse. They’ll leave, and hopefully they won’t come back. If they do, we’ll just do what we just did until they get so frustrated that they won’t come back to the forest. They’ll leave us alone.”
I growl softly. I’m not so certain I believe that, but she is right about one thing; the men don’t seem to be inclined to stick around, no matter how angry they are. They’re muttering amongst themselves but already slinking off into the forest.
My ears twitch nervously.
I manage to hold in my growl, but it’s a close thing. There is something wrong here, I can feel it, even if I can’t put my paw on it. I have a bad feeling about this. I can’t let my mate be hurt, and I get the sense that’s what is going to happen if we’re not very careful.
My chest clenches.
I can’t lose her.
I won’t lose her.
CHAPTER 19
Maris
For once in my life,I think things might actually turn out for the better.
And yes, I know I’ve already made that mistake before; believe me, I’m well aware, and I certainly remember all the pain and fear that came after. I’m hesitant to even think it again, let alone begin to believe it.
But there’s one big difference this time:Gray.
Every time I even consider things might go sideways, she seems to sense it, curling around me like some sort of fuzzy, cuddly snake. If she could crawl inside my skin, I’m entirely sure she would do just that.
All that being said, it makes it much harder to be sad or concerned with the future when I have a giant furry wolf that is determined to ensure I have everything I want from life.
If I think flowers are pretty, she finds some for me, which is no small feat considering how close it is to winter. When I complained that my clothes were dirty, she brought me to a section of the cave where I could wash them, complete with soap, and waited with me while I worked; she also offered tohelp me wash them, but considering she has claws I didn’t think it was a good idea, not to mention the fact that she has never had to wear clothes and therefore never needed to know how to wash them. But she’s more than happy to sit with me, which means something.
In other words, I now have a lover, partner, whatever you want to call her, that will do absolutely everything she can to make sure that I’m happy, that I have everything I want.
And that’s the problem.
Ever since I came here to live with Gray, there have been a few thoughts in the back of my mind about things I’m missing, little objects left behind in my old cottage that I’ve had my entire life. I know I should be able to let them go, but some tiny part of my mind won’t allow me to forget them, and I can’t stop thinking about them. So even now, when I’m realizing that I’m finally—for once in my life—happy in a place, and loved by someone, there’s still something missing.
And what’s worse is that I know that if I ask, Gray will get those things for me. It isn’t safe for either of us to go back to the village, but certainly not her,
She’d be killed on sight.
Me? I would also likely be killed on sight, although probably more slowly, since I’m not a threat like she is. Neither of us should go back. I know that, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
Gray grumbles softly, curling her long tail around me as she winds around me. She seems to be getting smaller these days, although I’m telling myself that it’s just my imagination; I’m worried that being with me is hurting her somehow, and that’s the last thing I want.
“What. Need?” Gray mumbles, tail swishing.
Her muzzle wrinkles almost immediately and she growls softly. We’ve been spending so much time together that it’sgetting easier for me to read her expressions better, and this time the growl is frustration.
If I had to guess, I would say that she’s upset about choosing the wrong words, upset that she’s not speaking as clearly as she wants to. I know she’s been working at it lately, doing her best to speak more clearly and concisely. I don’t mind the short, monosyllabic responses, but if she wants to speak more clearly, I’m happy to help.
Besides, I like talking to her; it isn’t exactly a hardship. Plus, it’s been years since I’ve had someone to talk to, so I’m out of practice too. Our little chatter sessions at night in the cave are good for us both.
Gray licks my wrist gently, drawing me back from my thoughts.
