Page 13 of Under Dark Skies

He found a mirror in the bedroom and began removing his jacket and shirt. Beneath the garments were bruises, the color of planets. He’d forgotten how many times he’d actually fallen down today. They too would heal, but for now, his body felt like a punching bag.

He looked at his knuckles—still blood streaked, but the wounds were starting to heal. He still felt the pain of the scraps, but at least he would be healed by tomorrow. He stares at his face in the mirror. The thin swipes look like a wolf had their way at his face with rusty nails. They too were beginning to heal, and were then the least painful portion of his body.

“Thank fuck.” Rafe whispered to himself. He looked around the room. The bed was a single, but no sheets on top of them. Just a bare mattress. It had been a while since he had been there to tend to anything as domestic as clean sheets. He would check in the bathroom if there are any extra towels Layla could use to stay warm.

He planted himself on the mattress, embracing its softness. He fell back on it limp, then put his forearm over his face. He would lie here while she washed up, then move himself over to the couch in the corner so they could both rest for a while. Tomorrow was for planning and further rumination.

He didn’t realize that he had dozed off until Layla came into the room. She was doing her best not to wake him, but he was a wolf after all, and her soapy fragrance was striking. His eyes shot open and he sat up.

“Layla, I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep.”

Layla was wearing a robe she must have found in the bathroom, and her hair tied up in a loose bun. Her makeup from the planned night-out had been wiped away, and all of her features were there, laid bare for him. He felt his heart pick up the pace at the sight of her skin peeking out from beneath the robe.

She smiled. Dark circles encased her eyes, but the smile was bright, and genuine.

“You don’t need to worry about that. You must be fucking exhausted.” She took her hair out of the bun and shook it loose. Rafe forced himself to look away, swinging his legs from off of the bed.

“I’ve never personally run on all fours, but I imagine that it takes more energy than just the two.” Her hair was wet, long, and lovely. Rafe rubbed his face in an effort not to look directly at her, in fear of his emotions betraying his general calm, cool and collected demeanor.

It was an odd, ancient feeling to Rafe. Attraction.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had to do it. This dog wasn’t so sure about the results.”

“Well, you did get us here.” Layla moved towards the bed. Rafe instantly stood up, then groaned instinctively as one of his ribs cracked in his chest.

“No no, lie down! You need to rest.” Layla came close and touched his bare skin. Rafe became dizzy at the feel of her on him. This was a new feeling, and slightly irritating for him.

He sat back down on the bed out of sheer requirement. She told him to lie down again.

“I can take the couch over there.” Rafe motioned toward the love seat near them. Layla chuckled.

“If anything, that would injure you more. Just scoot over a bit, we can make this work.”

He felt panic when he realized what she was trying to do. Before he could assess his feelings she laid down next to him, then laid on his chest. There was no way he could slow his heart rate now—her hands, her body, her mind, were all connecting with him.

It felt strange, but he allowed a part of him to welcome it.

When he breathed he could smell her. It was floral and tangy, relaxing and intriguing. He really didn’t want to have to deal with this kind of attraction during such a tumultuous time, but do things ever really happen the way we plan them?

He lifted a hand to her hand, and began stroking her hair. He felt her heart rate rise at his touch. She breathed deeply, and he assumed that she too was dozing off into oblivion. This contented him.

As his own eyes drifted closed, a delightful and disturbing thought prodded him—could she be his mate? He was always accepting of the fact that he wasn’t going to find anyone. His job was dangerous and considering another person was far too complicated. But he could feel his body reacting to her. It wasn’t just because he hadn’t had sex in a while. It wasn’t just lust, it was something else entirely.

Something intangible, cosmic, and ineffable.

They both drifted into a deep sleep until the next morning, neither dreaming for a second at all.

Thirteen

Layla

Layla didn’t realize that she had fallen into a deep sleep. She awoke at an unknown hour, feeling oddly rested. Rafe’s hand was on her back, and it felt so strong, so comforting. She was a strong woman and knew she never needed a man to make her feel whole. But Rafe never made her feel that way—he trusted her. And that made her attracted to him.

It was easy to be attracted to him physically anyway. If he wasn’t an old wolf private investigator, he could have easily fallen into the modelling life and thrived. His pointed cheekbones, razor sharp teeth, and shark-like eyes made him look exotic, even re-defining the stereotypical concept of beauty. She let herself lay on his chest, listening to his resting heartbeat.

He was deep in rest, and she wanted to leave him there. She sat up as slow as she could to not wake him. His arm was heavy as she moved it off of her back and laid it next to him. He didn’t stir, even in the slightest. She sat on the mattress for a moment, watching him breathe. A light moved in her stomach, one that she had heard of existing, but hadn’t ever felt so poignantly.

His face was almost completely healed, as were his knuckles. There was still some light bruising on his ribs, but those would soon fade, from what she heard about wolves. She stood from the mattress and lightly walked out of the room.

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