Page 46 of Wolfsbane

Maybe if Mother died, Viktor could get his wolf back.

Or he’d be lost forever, but at least the pack would be free of us.

Maybe that was a trade Viktor was willing to make.

But I wouldn’t know how to start, and there were too many variables. More than that, I already knew what Viktor would say. His voice was basically already in my head.

It’s not worth the risk.

He wouldn’t abandon me to my own people’s mercy. How strange it was, to feel that kind of protection and support from someone who should hate me.

I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve it. Actually, I didn’t think I’d done anything. Maybe all it had taken was not being an ass.

Upstairs, away from the fire in the kitchen, it was pretty cold, but there was an enormous, thick, crocheted blanket on top of the bed that was calling my name. Only, it was Viktor’s bed, and I wasn’t going to presume to take it from him.

When he came in and shut the door behind him, I turned his way with a smile. “I don’t mind taking the floor if there’s an extra pillow and blanket.”

He blinked, scowling at me like I’d lost my mind. “The bed is large enough for us both.”

It was. It was the same size as my bed back in the coven house, which had always felt a bit like it had swallowed me and Mariah whole.

“You don’t . . . mind?”

For a moment, Viktor just stared at me. Then, I swear I saw the corners of his mouth tugging upward. It wasn’t a full smile, but it made my heart jump in my chest and warmth rush toward my cheeks.

“I do not mind,” Viktor said softly.

He stripped off his pants and left his boots by the dresser. I didn’t much want to sleep in jeans either, so I pulled mine off and draped them over the footboard of his bed. I left the sweater on though. It was cozy and warm, and it was plenty cold enough to justify wearing it.

I walked to the far side of the bed and slipped beneath the covers. I’d never slept with anyone before. I’d always had my own room at the coven house, and I’d never gone to sleepovers growing up. I’d been mostly homeschooled. By witches. Where would I have gone?

But there under the covers with Viktor, staring up at the ceiling, it wasn’t so bad. I was glad I wasn’t alone, and his body radiated warmth that kept the chill out. I didn’t mind that one bit.

“Viktor?”

He hummed. When I looked over, he was still staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry we dragged you into this. That I have your wolf, and that—that you didn’t have any explanation for what was going on. That must’ve been terrifying.”

His soft smile returned. Beneath the covers, he stretched out his hand and placed it on top of mine, which I turned over to squeeze him back.

“I wasn’t scared,” he said evenly.

Maybe he wasn’t. It sounded like he’d been through enough that he could handle pretty much anything.

But I wasn’t sure it was that simple. Really, I thought Viktor didn’t know how to be scared anymore. It was a luxury he hadn’t been given, so he kept himself together and took care of his own problems. If he was terrified, it didn’t matter. He’d push through it.

It wasn’t the same thing as not being afraid, though.

“Okay,” I whispered back.

“You had no explanation either,” he reminded me.

I snorted. “Sure, and I also spent the last couple of months coming out of my skin, thinking I was going absolutely batshit. But I was scared, too.”

His thumb swiped across the back of my hand, and my stomach clenched. Even that small comfort was so nice and, frankly, too generous for what we’d put him through.

“You don’t need to be scared anymore,” Viktor said, his voice a quiet rumble in the dark. “They will not get you. I won’t let them.”