Page 54 of The Healer and the Wolf: Part Two

“Hey there,” I said, peering around the doorway. It was funny how all of us had adapted that way of checking to make sure whoever was on the couch didn’t want privacy, as there were no doors on the lower floor besides the half bath. “You hungry?”

Andromeda tore her eyes away from Goober, who had been purring up a storm on her chest. Now I was certain my mate had special healing powers, I also had to wonder how much of her miraculous results were from the healing power of her cats and their purring.

“Yes, I am, but I’m a bit trapped right now.”

“I can see that,” I said with a chuckle. Crossing over to the coffee table, I put down the tray, then gently picked Goober up. As soon as I put him on the floor, he hopped back up on the sofa and settled at her feet, earning a squeaky complaint from within the knitted blanket.

“Who’s that now?” I asked, moving some of the cloth to see none other than Fork’s furry orange head peek out. He really was a character. I was used to him causing far more chaos in the house, but with so many people to pet and play with, he was pretty tired on the regular. No energy for shenanigans with all the love and play time. What a problem to have.

“Come on, the both of you. You’ll get plenty of cuddle time later.”

They stared at me like I’d grown another head. Sighing, I went and got the treats. What could I say, I had no backbone when it came to Ven’s kitty children. At least they wouldn’t tattle on me.

I gave the treat container a few solid shakes. Naturally, the two boys launched themselves from wherever they were and skittered across the floor like their lives depended on it. I gave them each a handful, which was probably about five treats too many, then waited for Mudpie to saunter in. She loved treats and would throw a hissy fit if one dared to short her, but she at least tried to pretend she wasn’t absolutely mad for them.

Once those clawed terrors were handled, I returned to Andromeda and helped her sit up. She looked a lot better. The color had returned to her cheeks and her hair wasn’t stuck to herscalp anymore. America and Ven had helped her in the shower, and I was immensely grateful for that. I knew the experience was likely very different from how my first time with Ven had been, but I was glad she’d had someone there to help her.

“Here you go,” I said, carefully setting the tray on Andromeda’s lap.

A warm smile spread across her features as she leaned in and inhaled the scent of the soup. I was all too familiar with how the delicious warmth after far too long in the cold could leave one speechless, so I didn’t say anything for a while. I settled into the only other chair in the room and picked up the book I’d started reading a few weeks ago.

It was only a matter of time before Ven’s three felines joined us, Mudpie settling at the top of the couch behind Andromeda’s head, and Goober and Fork settling along her legs and feet. Although Ven did indulge her babies, she’d trained them to keep their distance when someone was eating.

“I… had a cat.”

I set my book aside and leaned forward. I tried to sound casual, as I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and freak Andromeda out.

“You did. Do you remember that?”

“I do. She was old and very fat, even though we kept trying to put her on diets. I think we took her to a vet once?”

“We did indeed. Do you remember the diagnosis?”

Andromeda seemed to puzzle over it for a long moment before she shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“That’s okay. I only remember because your aunt thought it was the most hilarious thing and told the story pretty much any chance she could get. The vet said she was diagnosed with being too good of a hunter, and she would need to become an indoor cat instead of being allowed to play in the dilapidated barn in the afternoons.”

Andromeda’s eyes went wide. “Wait, wait, I do remember that! We all joked that she was meant for a pack, or that she learned from us.”

“That we did,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. It was a small thing, sure, but it made me so incredibly happy. Bit by bit, Andromeda would find herself again. It would be hard working through the wounds the brothers left on our bodies and in our minds, but she was taking the first steps to do so. Man, once things calmed down, I would have to find a shifter therapist for all of us. God knew we needed it. I supposed we could try a human one, but having to keep so many secrets and also not having them understand our duality seemed like a recipe for disaster.

“You said something about my aunt...”

“I did,” I hedged, perhaps a bit more cautiously than I needed to. Like most of us, Andromeda’s backstory wasn’t exactly full of roses and sunshine. We all made do and got through it together, but it wasn’t easy.

“I... I didn’t live with my mom, did I? Or my dad?”

“No, you didn’t. They died fighting the usurper. Like my dad did.”

Such news could be pretty shocking. After all, it was one thing to be an orphan, but it was another to forget you were an orphan, then suddenly learn it when you’d only just remembered you’d had a cat. Thankfully, Andromeda did not seem that rattled. Instead, she gave a slow, measured nod. I’d never realized how much we wolves tended to communicate that way until Ven started mimicking us.

“Your scent just changed,” Andromeda said, her brow furrowing. “Penny for your thoughts?”

She was remembering idioms already? Another great sign. “Just something funny about Ven.”

“Ven? That’s your mate, right? The human?”

I made a so-so gesture with my hand. “Maybe not entirely human, but, yeah.”

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