Page 45 of The Weakest Wolf

He crosses over to me and stops beside the bed, balancing a wooden tray with said soup and a large glass of water on it. “Can you sit up?”

The truth is, I don’t want to. My face feels more tender than painful, but my ribs are definitely broken.

Still, I brace myself and sit up. It takes everything to keep a placid expression on my face, but I do it.

Finally, with my back against the headboard, and the sheets pulled up to cover my naked breasts, I meet Galen’s eyes.

They’ve gone wolf. “That was a yes or no question. It was not a force yourself to get up if you’re still in too much pain from broken ribs.”

“How do you know I had broken ribs?”

“Who do you think undressed you?”

You just had to ask, didn’t you?

I don’t respond.

When I lower my hot face to my lap to hide my blush, Galen steps forward and places the tray on my lap. “I would’ve taped them, but I couldn’t find a first aid kit.”

One benefit of being a shifter is we heal bruises and cuts too fast to need plasters. But it’s broken bones that take longer than a few hours to heal up. That’s when tapes and bandages come in handy. At least to make the pain a little more bearable.

“That’s because there isn’t one,” I murmur, as I take in the steaming bowl of chicken and vegetable soup, fragrant with herbs.

I’ve been in the farmhouse kitchen enough times to know that what I’m looking at didn’t come from any can.

Galen sinks back into his chair. “Not anywhere?”

After picking up a spoon, I raise my head. “What do you think?”

When he re-crosses his arms, I shift my focus to his black long-sleeve t-shirt and jeans.

They look brand new. Just like everything else he’s worn. I can’t imagine what that must be like, to have endless outfits to choose from, and go shopping for more whenever you want.

I’ve only ever gone into town to do the grocery shopping with one of the men. They’d let me drive there and back, mostly because of laziness on their part, but I wasn’t trusted to hold the cash. I just picked the groceries the pack needed that month.

My only other trip into town was when I ‘borrowed’ a car to get Eden out of here, remembering to take the watch I’d stolen years before. I got more money from the pawnbroker than I’d expected, but Eden needed it more than I did. So now I have nothing to pawn, and no hope of borrowing a car with all the pack’s attention on me.

And no clothes.

What the hell must he think of this pack… and me?

My gaze returns to the bowl of soup.

Trash. The lot of us. And he’s right.

“Soup is meant to be eaten.”

I tighten my hand around the spoon. “I know.”

Maybe it smells this good because I’m starving. But I don’t dip my spoon in the soup. I need to know what it will cost me first, and if it’s a price that I’m willing to pay.

“I didn’t ask for this, so you can’t demand anything in return,” I tell the soup.

The silence extends for so long that I lift my head.

“That the habit around here?” he asks.

I raise my eyebrow. “If you need to ask me that, then you haven’t been paying attention.”

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