I opened my mouth, but the wolf put a hand on my chest.
“We will leave if you want.”
Now my jaw dropped. We certainly would not! There was no way I was leaving her by herself! What if—
The look on the wolf’s face stopped me cold. He bent down, his neck offered toward her. I doubt Aggie knew what such an act of submission from a werewolf meant, but her face flushed. I couldn’t let the wolf be the only one to show some decency!
“I-If you truly don’t want me around…I will go.”
I looked at the floor, too ashamed to meet her eyes. We stood like that for several seconds, choking in the tension built between us. The moments stretched on for eons, and my mind spiraled out of control thinking there was no way she’d let us stay after the liberties we’d taken.
Aggie sighed, and it gave me the courage to look up. She still looked frustrated, but also a bit overwhelmed. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She rubbed her face vigorously with her hands, then shot a look at Damon. Damon stretched once more, digging his claws through the blanket and into her legs for good measure. Aggie didn’t even notice.
Her familiar hopped off the bed and twined himself between my legs and the wolf’s. My witchling sighed again, then stood. Her curls were a riotous frizzy mess, but it was so uniquely her that it only seemed right. Being here with her, this stupid werewolf, and a goddamn ruffian stuffed in the closet somehow felt right.
Aggie eyed the wolf seriously, then me.
“What kind of soup?”