Page 87 of To Challenge a Wolf

Then again, odds were he didn’t breathe while he slept. If she looked in on him, she’d probably freak out, try to wake him, not be able to, and convince herself he was dead. Not helpful to either of them.

Vivian was no great cook, but she wasn’t a kitchen klutz either. She set about making a veggie omelet, chopping and combining red bell pepper, onion, mushroom, and spinach.

She found plates in a cabinet, glasses in another cabinet. Blaine’s brand of orange juice was organic, freshly squeezed, and delicious. The omelet folded over perfectly, transferred to the plate with ease. As she liberally sprinkled it with pepper jack that melted and made her mouth water, succeeding at something felt calming. Bolstering. A night’s sleep had her wondering if she’d surrendered her universal laws too easily to Blaine’s logic, but…he’d made points she couldn’t argue with.

April. The idea she was in any way the cause of her abuser’s violence made Vivian’s blood boil. But she couldn’t say the same for herself. If someone had harmed her…would she be drowning in shame, convinced she’d brought it about with a salty thoughttoward the universe? She shuddered. Before last night, she really might.

And Blaine. She’d never know what had happened to him or how long ago, but it had scarred him. And his description…unable to defend himself. Another shudder ran down her spine. He’d said whatever had happened was not his fault. If her belief in manifesting and attracting all things that came to a person were real, she was forced to argue with him. Put the blame on him.

So she couldn’t blame herself either. For Rhett’s stubbornness. For his rejection. Blaine was right; she had given her all to win her wolf. She couldn’t force him to want her.

A tear dripped onto her plate, and she swiped it away. No crying over the idiot. Crying sucked.

After breakfast, she made the kitchen as spotless as it had been before she entered. Then she called in to work for tomorrow, explaining to her assistant manager Katja that she’d returned home from her week of vacation to a friend’s emergency and would be back as soon as possible. Katja wasn’t thrilled, but she wasn’t mean about it either. Anyway, other than jaunts across the country to meet wolf packs, Vivian didn’t really do vacations. Her banked PTO was still close to two weeksafterher week in Harmony Ridge.

What a waste.

If the wolf were here, she’d give him a piece of her mind. Enough trying to be worth his time. Shewas, curse it all. She already was.

Responsibilities taken care of, she parked herself on the couch in the den and turned on the TV. Blaine didn’t pay for many streaming services, but she found a fashion competition show and settled in for a marathon.

The morning trickled into afternoon. She watched brilliant designers create and display their brilliant work. Betweenepisodes she made sure to move her body—mainly with kickboxing routines—rather than sitting like a pretzel for hours on end. When she got hungry, she raided the kitchen again. She chopped up some celery and added it to a mix of tuna, gourmet mayonnaise (the man didn’t buy cheap food…except for the canned tuna), dill, and black olives (one of her weaknesses). On sprouted-grain bread with a slice each of tomato and swiss cheese, it was one of the most delicious sandwiches she’d ever made in her life. The beauty of expensive ingredients.

As the daylight was beginning to redden toward sunset and her design show’s second season was beginning, the door at the far end of the hallway opened. Vivian hit Pause on the remote and sprang to her feet as though Blaine might need something.

He joined her in moments, of course knowing her location by scent as unerringly as a wolf would.

No. No more thinking about wolves today.

He was freshly dressed in black jeans and an ivory mock-neck sweater. His hair glistened with water, just combed. Against the sweater, his skin looked even paler but no longer thin or waxy. But his eyes were Vivian’s focus of attention. His eyes would tell her the most.

She walked up to him, stood no less than three feet away, and stared. He let her. His eyes were blue as always, but now they glinted when he moved his head and light from the window caught them. They were a healthy vampire’s eyes again, looking as if they held little blue diamond chips.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Vivian stepped back. She smelled too provoking to make him put up with her nearness for long. “I got free rein of a vampire’s kitchen, and I’ve vegged out on high-end-fashion competitions all day. Such a hardship.”

“No. This is one time I’m going to insist you accept my thanks.”

She’d never seen him like this, minutes after waking up, comfortable and at home. His guard was down further than she’d ever seen it before. “You’re welcome, Blaine. I’m really glad I could do this for you. I’m glad it worked.”

“I can’t…” He ran one hand down his face, then sighed. “I can’t tell you, Vivian. The…enormity of what you gave me.”

“It’s a vampire thing?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “You’re priceless, you know.”

“For a human.”

“As a person,” he said. “A kind and giving person.”

“Well, I’m not always giving. I’mdefinitelynot always kind. But I’ll take priceless. I’ll take it all day long, because I’m no less valuable than anybody else.”

Blaine laughed with something like joy, pushing his hands through his hair so all the waviness escaped the combing and stood up exactly the way he hated. He didn’t seem to notice. “Well, that’s music to these old ears.”

“You made points I still can’t argue with. In fact I’d like to know why you never used them before.”

“Oh, I did. Many times. You blocked them out.”

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