14. Chapter 14
Arlo
I open my eyes to a quiet room. The bed’s soft and warm. Beyond the windows, the sun’s beginning to go down, coloring the sky with smears of orange that complement the periwinkle clouds. It would be lovely, but the space beside me is missing a big, broody lumbersnack.
I fell asleep for at least an hour, maybe two at most. Gunnar’s been gone a long time. Not that it matters. He has no obligation to me beyond what we’ve already agreed upon. He can run off and stay away as long as he likes.
The memory of stricken gray eyes comes back to haunt me. I’m worried about him. I’ve been so hungry for him that I didn’t stop to think. What if he’d rushed into something he wasn’t prepared for? Ugh, what nonsense. He’s an adult, and he’s responsible for his own choices.
Does he regret what we did? The possibility hurts.
“Stop sulking. It’s unbecoming.” Truffles materializes out of thin air beside me, making me jump.
“Goddess! I thought I asked you to stop doing that! What if I’d been… you know, busy?”
She snuffles, looking away with her snout in the air. “Please. As if I can’t tell when you’re done… fornicating.” Her boar face shows no emotion, but the disgust in her voice makes even me feel like a hoe.
“Thank you for sharing, Truffles. I don’t know how I could have gone on with my life if I didn’t know you can tell when I’m having sex.”
“You think I’m happy about it? One of these days I’ll find myself a mate and I’ll make you miserably aroused for a change.” Despite her grumbling, she cuddles up against me. The magic connecting us warms me from head to toe, like sinking into a hot bath.
“I don’t think you need to worry about that.” I try to smile through the ache in my chest, to sound like I don’t care. “It was only a one-time thing.” Soon, the both of us will go our separate ways.
Truffles blinks beady black eyes at me. She bumps her snout against my hand. “What are you talking about? Gunnar is—”
The bedroom door opens. In the doorway, Gunnar carries a tray laden with food. My mouth falls open. “Oh. You’re back.”
“Aye.” Gunnar kicks the door closed behind him. “I thought you might be hungry. I caught a couple of rabbits, and Nan made this stew. Would you like some?”
My stomach roars at the savory smell. “Yes! Thank you.”
A smile brightens Gunnar’s face, his cheeks pinking adorably. He sets the tray on the dresser and adjusts my pillows so I can sit propped up. Carefully, he lays the tray in my lap, then settles in beside me. The stew looks creamy and smells incredible.
“How are you feeling?” Gunnar asks.
My arm aches when I lift the spoon, but I dunk it in the stew anyway. “Much better, thanks to you.” I give him a wink and make myself look like a fool when I drop the spoon into the bowl.
Truffles squeals and leaps onto the floor. “That got in my eye, prick!” She burrows under the bed.
“Sorry!”
“She all right?” Gunnar asks.
I sigh, rolling my eyes. “She’s a diva.” This damn spoon feels like it weighs a ton when I try to feed myself.
“Having trouble there?”
I glare at him. “Not at all.”
The spoon falls yet again, but Gunnar catches it before stew can splatter everywhere. Sighing, he lifts the spoon to my lips. “Here.” He sounds exasperated but the look on his face is surprisingly tender.
I feel like an idiot. Didn’t I promise myself I’d never be vulnerable around wolves again?
But this wolf… he’s different, and I want to trust Gunnar.
I slurp the soup off the spoon. The flavors and creamy texture burst across my tongue.
Glancing at Gunnar, I moan my approval, which only makes his face redder.
“Cut it out,” he scolds, offering me another spoonful.
This time when he sticks the spoon in my mouth, laughter bubbles up my throat.
Gunnar presses his lips together, but a smile bursts across his face, so wide it makes his eyes crinkle.
It’s a miracle I don’t choke, torn between laughing and trying to eat.
Gunnar’s laughter is a bright, infectious thing, and I want to bask in it like a flower in the sun.
Gunnar came back to me. He’s here.
Tension I didn’t know was there between us lifts, and I allow myself to smile at him, captivated by the warmth in his eyes. “I thought for a minute you’d run out on me. I was about to go off and find another fiancé.” I try to keep my tone light, but relief makes my throat ache.
Gunnar’s smile falters. “I’m sorry, Lo. I just… I needed space to think.”
I bite my lip so I don’t cave and ask if I did something to upset him. “Did you find it?” I ask instead.
He doesn’t answer for several seconds, stirring his spoon around in his stew. “I don’t know.” The defeat in his voice is so palpable I can almost feel it myself.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “Not your fault. I thought I was ready.”
“To?”
Gunnar’s throat bobs. “Lie with another person.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. He regrets what we did.
“I wanted it, Lo. Wanted you.” His big hand, rough from years of working with his hands but gentle all the same, settles over mine. “It was more than I expected.”
Stomach queasy, I nudge my bowl of stew away. “That’s understandable.” It’s probably been years since he had sex. I want to ask, but probably shouldn’t.
“After I lost my family, I spent a long time feeling nothing for anyone. Not love, not lust. I’d started to wonder if the loss had broken me.” His swallow is loud in the quiet. “Until you.”
Oh goddess, how is this man capable of breaking my heart and making it soar all at once?
Gunnar meets my gaze, and the raw emotion on his face takes my breath away. “After years of feeling nothing, what you awoke in me was—a lot.”
Turning my hand palm up, I lace my fingers with his. “Of course.”
Gunnar inhales slowly. When his fingers loosen, I’m afraid he’ll pull away, and he does, but only to run his fingers through my hair. “I think… I wouldn’t mind feeling it again. With you. Just until the wedding,” he adds.
His lips look so soft and biteable. “Yeah. Just until the wedding. But we can have a wedding night, right?”
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. “It is what tradition dictates.”
I have to touch him. Now. But what if he isn’t ready? Taking in a breath, I settle for poking his fingers.
Gunnar scoffs. “You can touch me. I won’t run. Not again.”
Smiling, I take his hand, heart racing when he squeezes my fingers.
That’s when I notice it. The pale scar that winds down my wrist. A bone-deep cold seeps into my soul. I wrench my hand away and lift my wrist, heart racing. “Oh goddess. How long has this scar been here?”
It isn’t supposed to be there. My magic keeps them hidden but… oh no. When I used up my magic reserves, the spell hiding my scars must have worn off.
Bolting from the bed, I race into the bathroom. When I glimpse my reflection and find my worst fears staring back at me, the temperature in the room drops. Nausea churns in my stomach, and I fear I’ll be sick.
“Gunnar…” My voice comes out pitifully small. “H-has this been here the whole time?”
Gunnar enters the room, but I grab a towel and cover my chest.
“Don’t. Don’t look. Please.”
Gunnar’s sigh is heavy. “Lo, I’ve already seen it.”
Oh goddess. He’s seen it. The memory of the worst day of my life, of my worst and most foolish mistake, carved into my chest with fangs and claws and—
There’s a roaring in my ears and bile in my throat.
My hand shakes, and the towel falls to the floor. I hug my chest, trying to cover the worst of it, but it’s hopeless now.
Gunnar’s seen them.
Goddess, he’ll never look at me the same way again.