Page 17 of Season of the Wolf

I placed a kiss in the soft, coiled strands on top of her head.

“How are Elise and the others?”

I didn’t miss Evangeline’s lack of urgency to let the rest of the household know I was awake, but I had no problem with her selfishness. I preferred when it was just us.

“They’re all downstairs,” she answered, lifting from my shoulder to swing a leg over the edge of the mattress the next second. “I can get them.”

She’d mistaken the question for a request. Just before she stood, I stopped her, looping my fingers around her wrist before she could get too far.

“Slow down. Hang on a sec.”

She turned to find me smiling and did the same.

“You’re … okay?” I knew it was an incredibly broad question, one with so many answers, but I had to ask.

Very few understood what it was like to be tethered to someone, and then have them leave you. Painful didn’t even begin to describe it. It was like having yourownsoul ripped from your body. Even I felt the loss, the disconnection,but for her, it was different. She’d watched time pass, not knowing if I’d ever wake up.

That would be heavy foranyone.But it was especially heavy for someone who’d experienced as much loss and displacement as she had.

“I’m good,” she nodded, hiding so much.

A long stare passed between us as I studied her face and posture, looked her over with the scrutiny of a protector who knew his mate like the back of his hand.

“Evangeline …”

She dropped the act the instant it became obvious I wasn’t buying it. Shewasn’tokay; no one would expect her to be. However, it was in her nature to be strong even when it wasn’t required.

Like now, when it was just us.

There were several things I was sure had to be on constant repeat inside her head. For starters, now that I was human, I was vulnerable to things like broken bones, illness … death.

No one was more aware of these things than me. Nor was it lost on me who was responsible. At the thought of Sebastian, his witches, his soldiers … my fists clenched. Their methods of torture hadn’t changed over the years; they were still just as barbaric as ever. Mostly they wanted information, wanted pieces of me to sell off, but they also just enjoyed causing pain.

I could only imagine the condition Evangeline must have found me in. Anger spiked and I pushed past it, refusing to let it take my focus off her.

She didn’t rush to share her feelings, the thoughts that made water begin to pool in her eyes, so I took that as a sign not to push.

“Have you hung out with Beth?” I asked instead.

It didn’t surprise me when she shook her head. “Haven’t really had time, but we text.”

That was a stupid question, knowing she’d been right here in this spot unless it was absolutely necessary to leave my side.

I was running out of things to say, things that weren’t off limits, uncomfortable.

“We haven’t talked much, but she was with me that day,” Evangeline said, breaking the silence that crept between us. “When I came for you.”

The incident was so foggy—a collage of images, faces, and sounds that didn’t quite fit together.

“If it hadn’t been for her and the others, I wouldn’t have made it.” Her voice quivered a bit, but she didn’t falter, didn’t succumb to the emotion I sensed just beneath her words.

“I owe you my life,” I breathed into her ear before placing a kiss there. “Allof you.”

She was quiet again, but this time it was more reflective than anything.

“Do you … remember?” she asked. “Remember everyone who helped?”

I would have been lying if I said yes, when all that seemed to register was that I’d seenherduring a brief, lucid moment, and then blacked out again.

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