Page 64 of Bride of Choice

“Machismo,” I said with a laugh as I glanced down my person. It wasn’t going to be pleasant sleeping in my only pair of clothes on hand and I wasn’t about to climb into bed in nothing but the equivalent of a period diaper.

“Celuk wouldn’t happen to have a spare shirt or something in that oversized closet I could borrow, would he?” Mentally smacking my forehead at the thought, I sighed. “I dunno why I asked. It’s not like you guys run around with clothes on…”

Something soft and light smacked the side of my head as I started to shove the mass of pelts back, placing my own mating pelt over me with care.

“Hey! What the fur burgers, Lassie?! Did Timmy turn evil in that well?!”

“Eh?” he barked, as I sat there with a bit of material draped over me and a feels so good I’ve got no fucks to give buzz going.

“Woof.” A burst of laughter left me, then another, until I was holding my stomach, cackling like a madwoman, and was a thousand percent certain I was good and broth-drunk.

The material draped over me was lifted and a very amused looking furball smirked down at me.

My laughter continued, but it quickly got ugly. I thought nothing of it then, and appreciated it when Kooky just stood there, looking lost and unsure of what to do as I had a mini meltdown. Uncontrollable laughter turned to weird sniffle-mumbles. Those walls I tried so hard to put up crumbled. Thanks, period.

I blamed it on that magical pain potion, on my vulnerable state, on finally cracking enough to break, on the confusion that is my fucking life, on Kooky’s kindness and feeling unsure if I even deserved it, but one soft but firm, “Tell,” as he leaned down until he was kneeling beside me, cupping my chin gently as I sniffled and snuffled like a blubbering idiot, and I croaked out, “Can I trust you?” I got a nod from him and a pinky finger held out in offering. Smiling through the tears, I hooked my finger on that bitch, shook it, and burst the hell wide open, like a busted can of biscuits exploding.

I told him too much, I knew that now as I laid here, staring at the wall blankly, blushing profusely every few minutes as relief to have told someone but knowing I’d said it ALL and what if he tells someone?! with a heaping helping of shame that I’d leaned on some near perfect to me stranger, mixed in a brutal cocktail.

As I laid there long after he’d left, assuring me of nothing as the day wore on and I remained alone, now dressed in the borrowed, flowing, loose dress thing he’d offered me from Celuk’s stuff in his guest closet, I was too embarrassed to seek him out and make sure we were still cool and he didn’t think I was as crazy as his brother, too worried to try, too tired to care, too depressed to contemplate leaving this bed, knowing I was the anomaly of beastdom with several failed mating attempts under my belt, too sad by it all to even think of eating, and too smart to think I could just magically fix any of it in a day.

So here I remained.

When my bladder finally screamed at me that enough was enough, I sat up with a groan. “I don’t wanna,” I muttered to myself. Slipping from the bed, using the shawl I’d come in with to preserve any sense of decency this gown didn’t offer me with the girls swinging free in it, I had to give it to that magic brew and healing paste, I felt so much better than I had yesterday. My limp was barely there as I made my way down the hall. That shit was pure magic.

The house was empty but for the fire crackling away, no other sounds to greet me as I made my way to the restroom. My lips quirked up as I paused to study the hide tacked up over the crystal bathroom wall, and made my way inside to do my business with a much lighter step.

This place was like a tomb— comfortable, very warm, but hauntingly empty. I’m staying in a mausoleum.

How long was I expected to stay here?

No wonder Celuk was always out hunting. It was like a beautiful prison with just one person in it, a glass cage of a sort.

Grabbing my pelt, I made my way into the kitchen, nabbing a cup of water from the red clay pitcher and tin cup, and a hunk of bread sitting out, leftover from last night, and slowly headed for the overstuffed sofa to make myself right at home.

A large pile of shit in the corner near the door caught my eye. Recognizing that damaged, muddy suitcase wheel amongst the pile, the same one that was supposed to be stuffed into the floor of my hut beneath a mound of mud, a choked noise that sent bits of the bite of bread I’d just taken flying everywhere left me.

“My things!” I burst out, popping up to regret the abrupt action but too excited and tripping the hell out to find not only the things I’d wanted from my hut but items that had gone missing from it, all present and accounted for.

How had he- I- My god, my babbling last night. He’d actually gone and done it— he’d gotten all my shit for me. My hand went to my face and I gasped. Shit. I’d said a lot. I mean, a whole fucking lot! Too much!

Had he- Did he- Rek. I’d told him about Rek. Fuck.

Cursing, I cringed inside and out, thinking of all the things I’d prattled on about. Crap on a dirty assed cracker, the things I’d told him!!!

That fucking pain drink was more like a truth serum!

Like his ears had been burning or something, the front door opened and Kooky stood in the doorway. My mind blanked as he stepped in with a freshly skinned kill over his shoulder, gook and blood and I didn’t really want to know what all else clinging to his fur.

“Goot. No more sleepies,” he said simply, stepping in and kicking the door shut with his foot behind him to stride right past me and off towards a hall just off to the side from the bathroom.

“Should you really be bringing dead things into your bubby’s house?” I called after him, gaping at his retreating form. A bloody trail followed him as he hummed softly to himself.

“Celuk no care,” he called back, like last night hadn’t happened and everything was just as hunky dory a-okay as it had been before I’d climbed into bed broth-drunk and then spilled my guts to him.

“I sure hope he doesn’t,” I muttered absently, eyeing that bloody mess all over the thick stone floor I sure as shit wasn’t gonna be moppin’ up, and started rifling through my things.

A sharp bark of laughter left me as I opened the damaged suitcase with that huge punched hole in it, thanks to Rek, to find my comforter and pillow stuffed inside the freshly cleaned up inside of it. My face reddened as I spied the tell-tale outline of BOB, stuffed inside my pillow case, as well as Rek’s pelt peeking out from the bundle.

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