Page 53 of The Sacred Wolf

He was also in bed, something I’d never seen.

Except in your dreams.

Down, girl. Now is not the time.

If you say so.

My wolf faded into the background, or at least, her voice did. The instinctive tightening of my muscle as she circled beneath my skin, pacing with heat, was less easy to ignore. That said, my brain was consumed at the moment with the vision of my possible betrothed, wounded, but strong, his body propped against the chalk linen tufted headboard, his dark hair tumbling into his eyes. I smiled, doing my best to ignore the heat that had risen in my own cheeks. “So glad to see you sitting up and looking so well,” I said softly.

The truth of these words hit me as they left my trembling lips. Seeing the color in his cheeks and twinkle in his eye…something in me that I hadn’t even recognized I’d been gripping released, like the way you could sometimes be so cold that you barely felt it, until you finally came inside, and the warmth stole over you.

He's healing.

Yes. We weren’t too late.

Until this moment, I’d been so apprehensive that I’d turn the corner to find the half-dead zombie we’d dragged across the threshold a few hours ago, that seeing him this well left me fighting the urge to melt into the bed and puddle there, gasping.

“And ordering food in the middle of the night,” I added, with a light laugh. “Shake Shack, perhaps?”

He nodded, a sheepish grin crossing his face.

“Thanks for coming to see me,” he said, grabbing a nearby tank top and yanking it over his head, wincing as it got twisted and stuck halfway on.

“Here,” I said, rushing forward to help. “You shouldn’t strain yourself.” Though he seemed about to protest, he closed his mouth and grimaced as he lost his grip on the cloth. Imagining that my hands were light as air, I pulled the rolled section, making sure not to put pressure on the wound, my fingers brushing lightly over his skin, raising goosebumps where they’d trailed.He’d be better in a day, but for him to show any pain told me that bullet wound still packed a sting that would’ve floored me.

“Much appreciated, Elyse,” he said, looking me in the eye and settling back again. “Did you come here just to check on me? I’m sure you were told I’d be fine.”

His tone become distant, trending toward the Alpha-him and the flames that had danced in my belly on my way here sputtered out.

“I wanted to see for myself,” I replied, cooling my tone to match the temperature shift in his.

“And that’s it?”

“And…” I paused, irked that he was right. I wasn’t just there to check on his health. Or rather, now that I was sure he was going to be okay, a second purpose had arisen. “…I thought we might use this opportunity to talk.”

Better than text.

Maybe.

“I thought so. Well, you have a captive audience, so…” He paused, his mouth quirking up. “Shoot.”

“Ha, ha.” I settled lightly on the bed beside him. “I’m glad to see that the bullet didn’t pass through your sense of humor. That would have been a tragedy for all.”

His smirk disappeared, and I laughed for real. “I’m teasing, not poking. But I am annoyed with you.”

“How could I possibly be on the shit list this time?” He pouted in the direction of his bandage. “If this were a movie…”

“I know what would happen if this were a movie,” I snapped, flustered. “But this isn’t about today. It’s about how you’ve been treating me ever since you released me.”

“Seriously?” Sebastian groaned. “We already talked about this, Elyse. You asked me for space—”

“I never asked you to bolt in the opposite direction every time you laid eyes on me, and I certainly never asked you to act jealous of my gay best friend on the few occasions you were forced to interact with me. It’s… extremely unappealing. And I think you’ve seen enough movies to know that. So, why?”

“You know why.” His jaw clenched, the uncharacteristic shadow of stubble dancing as he bit at his lip.

My heart squeezed. Maybe the question wasn’t fair.

Or maybe you’re asking it wrong.