Page 16 of Season of the Wolf

Too long since I heard his voice.

My mouth opened and shut, feeling dry all of a sudden. I was unsure what to say or do next, unsure which of my questions would be answered yes, which would be no. But … Liam did his part to relieve me of one uncertainty. And all it took to convince me was one word.

“…Evangeline.”

He hadn’t forgotten me.

A deep groan passed through his lips when I rushed in, squeezing him harder than I probably should have, but I was beside myself with too many emotions to identify. Drawing myself into his bed, I curled up beside him, trying to catch my breath as hot tears soaked my face.

He held me back and I wouldn’t move from this spot. Not until I had to. It felt like I was owed this—the chance to soak up his undivided attention before having to share him with the others.

Inhaling deep, I breathed him in, pressing my face to the side of his neck, feeling his pulse against my mouth when I placed a kiss there. I let my eyes drift closed, fighting to keep my emotions wrangled in, but that was almost impossible. He had no idea how long he’d been out, how long I’d been suffering. No idea how much had changed. I’d get around to telling him everything eventually, but … not right now.

Right now, I just wanted …this.

Chapter Five

Liam

One hour changed everything. That was all it took to pry the details free from Evangeline, although I was sure she still held some back, wanting to avoid overwhelming me.

It only took an hour to understand the hell she’d been through waiting for me to come around.

An hour to realize I’d been out six weeks and Seaton Falls had practically become a military base.

An hour to realize we were weeks, maybedaysaway from the Sovereign retaliating for the clan’s insubordination; for Evangeline’s ambush and rescue that crippled his army.

But whatdidn’ttake an hour to figure out, was thatIawakened … but my dragon did not.

The second I opened my eyes, I sensed the emptiness swirling about with the initial confusion. It was a change that could be felt all over. I was marginally slower even with the small movements I’d attempted so far, less alert. My senses had dulled, too, and the feeling of my actions lagging behind my thoughts was disorienting.

Outside the window, water dripped from melting icicles onto the tin awning below. That coupled with sunlight beaming through the blind’s slats were signs of what I guessed to be a late-arriving spring. Evangeline said March had been the coldest month so far, but as soon as April arrived, the difference in the weather was like night and day.

Closing my eyes in the dead of winter, and then waking up on the cusp of spring, made me feel that much more disconnected.

At the thought, I pulled Evangeline closer. She felt like the only constant thing that followed me over from what felt like a past life, into this one. My palm was met with the warmth of smooth skin when I touched her arm, making my heart beat faster with the contact. It seemed I couldn’t get close enough, and from what I could tell, she felt the same.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” she breathed against my shoulder, lifting her gaze to meet mine.

I opened my mouth, and noted the unfamiliar rasp of it—a side-effect of being down for so long.

“I wish I could say it’d been a choice,” I admitted. “Feels like I’ve been out for a decade, dreaming,” I sighed. “My sense of time is … it’s all distorted. Things that happened centuries ago feel like just yesterday.”

I wondered if that was where my consciousness had been—visiting memories from the past, reveling in the comfort they brought while I was away.

“Don’t worry about any of that,” she insisted, moving her hand across my stomach, letting it rest there as I breathed deep. “You’ll catch up.”

I liked to think that was true, but‘catching up’meant more than being brought up to speed on events I missed.

My eyes drifted down to evaluate my body. No, I didn’t look any different, but inside? I had no idea who this person was.

“Looks like you took good care of me,” I smiled, forcing myself not to dwell on the bad. The inevitable.

She smiled back. “It was mostly Hilda. She cast charms to keep your muscle mass from deteriorating, to get rid of the scars, to keep you from needing much physical care. It made it so we didn’t need to disturb you,” she shared, adding, “All I really did was … sit here.”

She gave another smile after that, but this time it was a bit of a shy one. Like she didn’t think that’d been enough.

But to me, her presence, her devotion … it was everything.

---