I make a face, unsure how to answer the question. I don’t want to lie, but I also don’t know how I can tell the truth about what’s bothering me without her putting herself in danger for the items I want back from home.
I have to tell her.
I have to trust her, and find a way to get this out of my head before it eats me alive.
I sigh, scrubbing my fingers over my face before pinching the bridge of my nose. I have to tell her.
“There are some things I’d like from my cottage,” I say in a rush. My cheeks burn as I turn away, unable to meet her eyes. She’s going to think I'm a fool. “I know it’s ridiculous, but my mother’s locket is there. A box of mementos, the last things I have of her. I’ve been trying to tell myself that it doesn’t matter, but it’s hard.”
Tears prick at my eyes, and I swallow hard. Having said it out loud, it’s even harder to forget the last remnants I have of my mother. But it would be silly to put ourselves in danger over something so trivial.
Gray whines softly and pulls me closer, muscles tightening as she pulls me into a hug. I wind my fingers into her fur, soft and warm, and breathe her in. Her scent is comforting, like pine needles and the heat of her fur, although I’m unsure how that has a smell. But it does, and I breathe it in with every exhale.
“We will go,” Gray says slowly, and my eyes widen against her fur.
“But—”
“Will go together,” she says slowly. Every word is carefully chosen and spoken, and she pulls back only enough for me to see her face. “Will be safe together. Point me to what you need, and I will get it. You hide.”
I stare at her, lips parted, and her muzzle parts in a brief smile. Her muzzle seems different lately, smaller and flatter, more like a human face. I’m unsure if it’s just my imagination or if she’s actually changing, but it isn’t exactly my priority at the moment.
I’m still tempted to protest, but she’s already tugging me gently toward the cave opening, bustling around to gather things for our impromptu trip. She grabs a small basket and drops it into my arms, then snags a sweater for me to wear, muttering quietly to herself.
Apparently she’s decided that the sweater isn’t enough, because she trots back into the cave and returns with a ratty cloak. I have no idea where she keeps hiding these clothing items, and I’m almost afraid to ask. Not that I should be, considering I’ve seen firsthand just how hard she worked to make sure I have everything I could ever need,comb notwithstanding.
Even when she was fully a wolf, she must have been working for years to make everything perfect for me. Frankly, it’s absolutely adorable and it also makes me wonder just how long she’s known that I’m her mate. I haven’t exactly had the chanceto ask, but I do want to know. I make a mental note to ask her the next time we speak. When she’s not preoccupied with trying to prepare me for what is really only a trip of a few miles, not that I don’t appreciate the thoroughness.
Gray plucks the small basket from my grip and lowers it to the ground, taking the sweater from my arms. She helps guide it over my head, and I sputter as I emerge from the fabric like a turtle from its shell.
“So I take it we’re going now,” I mumble, accepting her help in sliding the cloak around my shoulders. Her claws click together as she carefully ties it at the base of my throat. When she’s finished, she holds her paw out to me, an open invitation. She tugs me toward the entrance of the cave.
As much as I hate to say it, I am relieved that Gray is willing to go back to my village, never mind how foolish it is. I’m even confident enough, with enough pep in my step, to lead the way through the forest.
Honestly, the cave where Gray and I have been living isn’t all that far from the village where I grew up, which is ironic. This woman, wolf, creature, whatever you want to call her, has been this close to me my entire life. Years that we could have been together, if I’d only opened my eyes.
If only I’d seenher. Really looked at her.
Those thoughts roll around in my mind as we pick our path through the forest.
When Gray pushes back a leafy branch for me, I freeze. Tears well in my eyes, panic flooding my chest. And pain, deeper than the physical.
My heart aches.
My cottage, the home where I grew up, is in ruins. Smoldering slightly still, smoke curling in the cool air. There’s hardly anything of the structure still standing, leaning drunkenly like an old fool falling off his stool.
This trip was a waste. Everything I had
It’s gone.
Smudged out of existence.
Tears splash down my cheeks as I spin on my heel and run. My lungs burn. Branches whip against my skin as I sprint, rocks rolling under my feet as I stumble forward, tears blurring my vision.
I run until I feel my legs might give out, but I can’t stop. I flee back into the forest as if I can outrun the pain. Outrun my past.
Gasping for air, I scramble up the rocks, fingers digging into the stone to climb as instinct takes over.
And that’s where Gray finds me, curled up in our nest of blankets and sobbing uncontrollably. The stone floor digs into my tailbone as I rock back and forth, my arms clenched around my shins as I curl in on myself.
