Page 21 of Meant for Them
Wiley hands me a cup and I tilt it into her mouth and help her not to spill it everywhere, unable to resist petting her fine coat.
“Let’s go get you comfy somewhere, shall we? You’ve been stuck in those damn woods, and I bet you haven’t slept well in a few days. I’ll even let you pick where you want to sleep.”
I help her to stand, trying to take as much weight off of her injury as I can. We limp along together, me kind of suspending her hips while we walk through our halls, until she shows interest in a bedroom.
It’s Jake’s of course, and she sniffs at it curiously before nosing her way in and trying to jump up on the bed.
Ha. He hates getting fur in his bed, but he wouldn’t want me chasing her out of here, so he can deal.
“In here? Okay, wolfie. Let’s get you situated.”
I lift her and fluff the blankets around her until she’s comfortable. When I go to take a step back though, she whines,so I freeze in my tracks and turn back to her, unable to leave. “You want me to stay?”
She does this adorably cute thing with her head between her front paws, her tail thumping against the bed, ears back like she’s embarrassed, but she gets whatever she wants while she’s in this house. “Alright, I’ll lay down with you. I guess I could use a little nap. Slept pretty shit last night myself.”
I tuck myself onto Jake’s pillow and extend a hand for her to smell, then she’s scooting forward and getting closer to me.
Before I know it, I’m being woken up by the front door shutting and footsteps accompanied by hushed voices in the hall that grow steadily closer.
I take a peek at my charge and see she’s still out cold, so I take a minute to admire the markings on her face, the silvery stripes of fur over her nose and around her ears, the slight wave she’s got on her coat and her smaller than normal paws. They’re torn up a bit like she’s been wandering for way too long without proper rest, and I feel a surge of protectiveness escape.
She’s clearly been through something; a wolf doesn’t wear herself down like this unless something really fucked has happened. She doesn’t smell mated though, so I’m not worried about any potential mates coming to claim her and getting pissed at us for harboring her.
Jake’s door creaks open, and he pokes his head in, so much damn hope on his face that it’s physically painful.
“She’s still sleeping,” I whisper.
He nods and creeps inside, avoiding the floor planks that squeak the loudest as he kneels before the bed. “Fuck, but she’s a pretty one. No idea where she came from?” His voice is just barely loud enough to be heard, not enough to disturb her.
“No. I was just on normal patrol and found her out by marker 12. Don’t know how long she’d been there, but her leg was pretty mangled.”
He reaches out carefully, stroking the edge of her paw. “We’ll make sure she feels better. Wiley said she ate already?”
I nod. “Yeah. No interest in shifting yet, though.”
“That’s fine. If she’s having a rough go of it, her wolf is probably trying to protect her. She can take her time.”
Her breathing changes, and I think we both know she’s awake, but she keeps her eyes closed, thinking she’s fooled us.
I smile, already feeling like she’s mine to feel good about. That’ll likely prove to be a mistake, but I’m not going to try and ration my feelings out just in case. “Yeah, she can take her time. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Can’t believe I missed it. Figures, the first time in a month I head to town to drop shit off and pick up supplies, this beauty appears. Now she’s going to always remember you’re the one that saved her.”
I try to bite back a laugh. “Wiley was right. You do have a white knight complex, don’t you?”
“Shove off, man. You know I loved all the fairytale shit when we were younger. And now look, we’ve got our very own princess.”
I pet the back of her head and grin when she leans into it. “Yeah, we do. She likes your scent the best though, she chose your room. Didn’t even want to see ours.”
“Man, that’s probably because she knows I change my sheets the most often. And shower the most regularly. You guys have enough dust bunnies under your beds to knit a sweater with.”
I scoff. “You know I can’t knit worth shit.”
“Yes, always the biggest disappointment for mom.”
At this point, she’s clearly decided we aren’t a threat because she flutters her eyes open, putting on a show like she just woke up. Cute.
Her big, amber eyes are so clear and rich I feel like I could get lost in them.
