Page 14 of The Healer and the Wolf: Part Two

Goober looked at me with those big eyes of his and let out a truly egregious meow. It was almost accusatory in nature and demanding as well. Certainly not the usual gentle giant sounds I heard from him. Whatever he wanted, he was adamant about it.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re supposed to go outside. Don’t you have a kitty tunnel for this?”

Before I met Ven, I probably would have felt like a dolt talking to a cat like a human, but Ven did it all the time, so I figured they were used to that sort of communication. It was kind of comforting, like having three little nonverbal friends who found increasingly creative ways to share their opinions.

And boy, did they have opinions.

But apparently, my gentle parenting wasn’t working because the large cat continued to chew me out like I had offended him. If it was Mud Pie or even Fork—the eternal chaos goblin that he was—I would have chalked it up to a temper tantrum. But Goober wasn’t so temperamental, so after several long moments of absolutely no negotiating with him, I opened the door, hoping I wasn’t about to piss Ven off by letting one of her indoor cats out into the great outdoors.

Strangely enough, Goober didn’t try to go out the door. Instead, he practically ran away from it and went out the flap to his tunnel.

“That was weird,” I said, and made to shut the door, only for Goober to raceoutof the tunnel and back to my side. “Buddy, what do you want?”

After a few more head butts to the back of my legs, I guessed he wanted me to be outside for some reason. Obliging, I took a step outside. Goober gave a satisfied meow, then ran right backinto the tunnel, until he was parallel to me in his protected passage.

“Well, you got me out here. What now?”

At that, the cat let out a chirp and began to strut through the winding structure, pausing after a few feet to look behind him. Those big eyes of his landed on me, almost as if he was asking why I wasn’t following.

I shrugged. Even alphas had to follow the orders of a very determined cat.

More amused than anything else, I followed him. It amazed me how much personality each of Ven’s cats had. What amazed me even more was how fond I’d grown of them. I’d never beenagainstcats, but I’d always preferred canines, what with kind of being one myself. However, there was something so comforting and entertaining about having three family members who didn’t speak my language but still loved cuddling with me and purring every chance they got.

I was so fixated on Goober and how he continued to stop every few feet to ensure I was still following him, that I didn’t realize how close I’d gotten to Ven and Ricky until my beta called out to me.

“Hey, man. You sure you’re ready to be walking out and about?”

I smiled at Ricky, but my gaze was fixed on Ven, who had shot up from the flower starts she was planting. Did I know what they were? I had a feeling she’d shown them to me when they were smaller, but I wasn’t nearly the expert she was, so I couldn’t identify them.

“Probably not, but a certain someone was pretty insistent I get some fresh air.”

With the type of timing that could only come from a sitcom, Goober gave a very proud meow from within the greenhouse, poking his large head out of the window.

“I didn’t know Goober had gotten his medical degree,” Ven joked with a smile. Although her grin was genuine, I could see the apprehension in her eyes. Was that because she was angry at me? Did she pity me? Did she think I was weak for becoming a prisoner and needing her to help me? That last one didn’t seem likely, but my ego had taken a huge hit after everything that had happened. I was used to being the rescuer, not the rescuee. What kind of alpha was I if I needed my pack to save me? It was hard to sort through my dark thoughts. I didn’t know when my anxiety had gotten so powerful, but I hated the hold it had on me.

“Hey, not that I’m not having a rip-roaring good time,” Ricky said, “but I want to go on a run with Miranda and Jason to connect with one of America’s cousins. They’re close by. If you two don’t mind holding down the fort, I could actually get a head start now.”

And there it was, the two of us being forced into close proximity with no polite way to disengage. I couldn’t tell if Ricky was doing it on purpose, or if he simply didn’t pick up on the tension between Ven and me.

“Sure, I would love to help. That is, if I have my doctor’s permission.”

I looked at Ven, trying to analyze everything about her expression. She definitely looked conflicted, and I liked to think that was because she was worried about my health, not because she was uncomfortable being alone around me. Really, she hadn’t done much to make me feel so insecure about everything between us, but I supposed it was an aftereffect of being so powerless for over a week.

“Let me go get a chair for you to take breaks in,” she said finally. “And you gotta promise that you’ll stop the moment you start to feel too tired or sore.”

“I promise.”

And I meant it. While I didn’t feel up to all the tasks I used to do—hauling dirt, watering, or digging deep holes for her tomato starts—I would be more than happy to sit in a chair and hand her different plant starts so she wouldn’t have to twist her back constantly. Even if things were a little strained between us, it would be nice to be by her side while she was in her element again. She’d spent many hours sitting in her room with me—reading, talking, or joking—but none of that quite compared to bonding with her when she was in her element.

“I’ll get the chair,” Ricky said with a clap of his hands. “Y’all get yourselves situated. You need more water, Ven?”

“No, there’s still plenty of ice in my canteen.”

That wrinkled feeling rose in me at the thought of Ricky taking care of my mate, which, really, I should’ve been grateful for. He’d helped her and took care of her when I couldn’t. He’d ensured she was safe, even when she was crazy enough to concoct a plan to get me back. I owed him more than ever, and jealousy was not the right way to go about it. Still, it ate at me. My inner wolf was more bombastic than ever, and it definitely wanted to bare its teeth at my beta and remind him of his place.

Ugh. When had my own head become such a complicated landscape?

I didn’t know, but luckily, my love for my best friend allowed me to keep those stupid instincts in check, so when he brought me the chair, I gave him an appreciative pat on his back. It was a simple touch, but it felt far more affirming than it probably should have.

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