Chapter 5
FIVE
Abe
I don’t sleep.
Not really.
I lie on the couch beside hers, one arm stretched along the back, close enough that my fingers brush her shoulder whenever she shifts. Close enough that my wolf can feel her breathing—slow and steady now, no longer ragged with fear.
He settles inside me for the first time since I found her. Curled. Watchful. Content in a way that makes my chest ache.
We finally have our mate, he murmurs, low and reverent.
We need to keep her safe and help her recover.
We need to mark and claim her, my wolf corrects.
Soon, I promise him. Hopefully.
The house is quiet, dawn still hours away. Christian checked on her twice already, adjusted the IV, murmured approval at her vitals, and tried to reassure me that she was all right. He tried to convince me to go lie down in the spare room, but I didn’t move. I won’t leave her side again.
She stirs sometime near morning, a soft sound leaving her throat as her brow furrows. Her lashes flutter, then lift slowly, confusion clouding her blue eyes as she takes in the room.
She looks… different. She’s not scared anymore. She’s still tired, groggy, and pale, but she’s more alert this morning, more present.
My wolf lifts his head instantly, alert and hopeful.
I sit up, keeping my movements slow and nonthreatening so I don’t spook her.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
Her gaze finds mine and sticks there, studying me like she’s trying to place where she’s seen me before.
“You’re awake,” I add.
She swallows. “My head feels… heavy.”
“That’s normal,” I tell her. “The drugs are still wearing off.”
She shifts, pushing herself up on one elbow. “Where am I?”
“Night Grove Falls,” I say. “You’re safe.”
She nods slowly, absorbing that. Then her eyes widen. “Fern.”
The way she says her name—sharp, panicked—sends my wolf bristling.
“I need to find Fern,” she says, sitting up too fast. She winces, a hand flying to her head.
I reach out instinctively to steady her. “Easy.”
She stiffens for half a second under my touch, then relaxes when I pull back immediately.
“She’s okay,” I say. “I promise.”
“I need to see her. Please,” she croaks.
“You will,” I say. “I already called Jameson. They’re on their way.”
“Really?” she asks hopefully.
“I figured that would be the first thing you’d want,” I admit. “I called them twenty minutes ago as soon as the sun came up. They’ll be here soon.”
Tears well instantly, spilling over before she can stop them. She covers her face, shoulders shaking as relief crashes through her.
“Oh, thank God,” she whispers.
My wolf watches quietly as she cries, not from fear this time, but from release. He doesn’t like seeing her upset, but he understands this. This is necessary.
Something soft passes over her expression. Gratitude maybe, or trust.
“I’m Abe. Abe Williams.”
She blinks. “You rescued me.”
“Yes.”
“And… this is your house?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, there’s my patient,” Christian says as he enters the room to check on Roxie. “How are you feeling?”
“Better… I think.”
I hover as Christian checks Roxie again. He takes her vitals, smiling as he records them in his notepad. He removes her IV and leans back on his heels.
“Everything looks great. We’re moving in the right direction, but you might still be tired and groggy today. Are you hungry?”
Her stomach growls. “Yeah,” she admits sheepishly.
My wolf paws at me. Feed our mate!
“You can eat, but slowly and in small portions today until your stomach gets used to food again,” Christian advises, then closes his bag and pushes to his feet. “I’m headed home and then to work. Call me if you need anything or if anything changes.”
I nod. “I will. Thanks, Christian.”
“Anytime, man.” He claps me on the shoulder and heads out.
I hover over Roxie, torn between my need to feed her and my need to be close to her.
Roxie’s gaze flicks around again, more aware now. “Are you… like Jameson?”
I know that she’s asking me if I’m a shifter.
“Yes. Wolf, though, not bear.”
She nods, seeming to process my words. I tense, waiting to see what she’ll say.
Before she can respond, a knock sounds at the door.
Her head snaps toward it.
“That’s Fern and Jameson,” I say. “It’s okay.”
I move to open it, barely getting the door unlocked before Fern barrels inside.
“Roxie!”
Roxie’s already on her feet, swaying slightly as Fern crashes into her, wrapping her up in a fierce hug.
“Oh, my god,” Fern sobs. “I thought—I was so scared—”
“I’m okay,” Roxie says, clinging back just as tightly. “I’m okay. I swear.”
Jameson hangs back, watchful and calm, his eyes flicking to me in silent thanks before returning to his mate.
My wolf hums with satisfaction. Good. Her friend is here. She’ll stay with us for sure.
I ignore him.
For now.
Fern pulls back, cupping Roxie’s face. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she replies. “Tired and sore, but I’m okay.”
Fern’s gaze shifts to me, tears swimming in her eyes. “Thank you for finding her and bringing her home, Abe.”
“It was my pleasure.”
Jameson steps forward. “We owe you.”
I shake my head. “You’d have done the same.”
He smiles slightly. “Yeah, I would’ve.”
My stomach growls loudly. Roxie laughs softly, surprising everyone, including herself.
“I guess that’s my cue,” I say. “You all hungry?”
Fern nods. “Starving.”
“I’ll help,” Jameson offers.
I head for the kitchen, my wolf finally allowing me to breathe a little easier as I move around the space, pulling out eggs, bread, and fruit. Jameson joins me, wordlessly falling into rhythm beside me.
“You good?” he asks quietly.
I glance toward the living room, where Roxie and Fern are curled together on the couch, whispering.
“No,” I say honestly. “But she’s alive. And that’s enough for today.”
“One day at a time,” Jameson says.
“Exactly. She knows about shifters.”
He doesn’t seem surprised. “I’m sure Fern told her when I first explained about shifters and fated mates. Those two share everything.”
“She asked if I was like you, but you guys arrived before we could talk about it.”
“So she doesn’t know that you two are fated mates?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”
“Good luck with that talk,” he says wryly. “I hope it goes better for you than it did for me.”
“I don’t know. It seemed to go pretty well for you.” I nod toward his mate in the living room.
He smiles, his whole face softening as he looks at Fern. Is that how I look when I stare at Roxie?
As I cook, I watch Roxie out of the corner of my eye. My mate laughs softly with her friend, her shoulders finally relaxed.
She’s still here, still breathing, and no matter how complicated things get from here on out, one thing is certain. I’m not letting anything take her from me again.
Not ever.