Page 29 of UNAwere

After a while, I can feel the weight of Briggs’s gaze on me, and it annoys me enough that I sit up and glare at him across the room. He’s in the chair by the desk and is watching me with his black eyes, face impassive.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘I don’t like it when you’re not talking.’

I laugh humourlessly. ‘You wouldn’t have said that a few days ago.’

‘Believe me, I know.’ He adjusts himself in the chair. ‘I’m sorry, though…’ He drops his gaze, as if he apologises so seldom that the act of doing so makes him uncomfortable. ‘I feel like this is my fault.’

I see the puncture marks on his neck and crawl back under the covers. ‘It’s not,’ I say truthfully. ‘I just don’t understand why it needed to be proven to you that I still have primal urges as a Were.’

‘Selfish reasons,’ he murmurs.

His scent fills this room. And it’s so good – like leather and the forest. I cover my head with the blanket.

‘I’m going to sleep,’ I say.

‘Goodnight, Red.’ His voice is soft. The softest I’ve ever heard it.

And it makes me almost sit up and look at him again. But I squeeze my eyes closed and will myself to sleep.

Iwake to the sound of Briggs making us coffee. But I keep my eyes closed and try to sleep for longer. I’m in no mood to get up and sit in a car with him all day. Especially since my dreams were filled of the scent and taste of him. Of warmth flooding me, of an aching pulse between my legs.

‘I know you’re awake, Red. Your breathing’s changed.’

‘Can I have another hour?’ I moan.

‘Nope. We have a schedule.’

He sets my coffee mug on the table by my bed, and I listen to him go about the room as he gets ready to leave. When he settles down into his chair with a soft groan to drink his coffee and peruse his phone, like he’s done every morning I’ve been with him, I let out a breath and slowly sit up.

I sip at my coffee, refusing to meet his gaze, even though I know he’s staring at me across the room. I get my phone from where it’s been charging by the bed and check my messages. There’s one from Maeve.

Maevey

How are you? Is everything okay?

Me

Still going fine. Just exhausted from travelling.

I skim through photos on my socials again. But seeing my pack and being so far from them, being so confused as to the person and wolf I am, I feel my throat clog and lock my phone.

‘Ten minutes,’ Briggs says softly.

I let out a breath. A part of me wants to riot at the idea of sticking to a schedule not made for me, only made to keep me in order. To keep me on time. To keep me safe, in line, where Primrose wants me to be.

I huff, throwing the blankets off me and stomp to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

I’m so confused. So angry. So confused that I don’t even know what I’m actually angry about.

Everything.

Nothing.

Him.

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, steeling myself. I get ready, allowing the methodical strokes of my hairbrush, the lacing of my shoelaces, and the silk slide of the skirt I wear on my bare legs to soothe me. I brush my teeth and put my hair in a high bun. The sweater I wear is knitted and pink, and it complements the red tones in my locks. I stare at it for a moment and then change my mind, pulling my elastic out and letting my hair cascade down my back.