Ivy #2
I'm actually keeping up, thanks to all my hard work studying lately. But I still don't pick up everything. His hands are shaking so badly, he keeps having to restart.
What… doing… here…
Not… safe…
Alone…
Down… here…
"I wasn't alone," I say softly, approaching slowly. The way you approach a wounded animal. The way I need to be approached when the walls of my own head feel like a prison. "Valek found me. He walked me here."
He shakes his head violently, pressing himself further into the corner. His signs come faster, more desperate.
Can't touch—
Will get on me—
"What will? My scent?" I ask, confused. I didn't catch all that.
He nods.
He's worried about transferring my scent to him before the game. Even now, in the middle of a complete breakdown, he's trying to protect me.
My eyes scan the room and land on a gray moving blanket draped over one of the equipment cases. I grab it, shake the dust out.
"Okay," I say, moving closer. "Then we improvise."
I drape the blanket over his head and shoulders.
It's almost comical. The fabric that would wrap around a normal person twice barely covers him.
It's like a napkin on a mountain, leaving his massive arms and half his torso exposed.
His head disappears under the gray fabric, but he's staring at me through the shadows like the sight of me is the only reason he can breathe at all.
"There," I say softly. "Barrier established."
Before he can stop me, I slide into his space, tucking myself against his blanketed chest, wrapping my arms around as much of him as I can reach. The fabric separates us, but I can feel his heat through it, feel the way his body trembles with each ragged breath.
His arms come around me slowly, like he's afraid I'll disappear. Like he's afraid he'll break me. His masked face burrows into my neck through the blanket and I feel him inhale deeply, trying to catch my scent through the fabric.
But I'm covered in neutralizers, and his mask is still in place, and there's nothing for him to find.
A frustrated growl vibrates against my throat.
"I know," I murmur. "Hold on." I raise my voice to call out to Whiskey without looking away from Wraith. "Can you give us a few minutes?"
"Yeah." Whiskey's voice is rough. "Yeah, okay. I'll be right outside."
The door clicks shut.
We're alone.
"Wraith." I pull back just enough to meet his eyes. "I need you to be careful, okay? I'm going to move the blanket so you can smell me properly. And I need you to pull down your mask."
He shakes his head frantically.
Not here.
His eyes dart to the dim red emergency lights bathing everything in bloody shadows, then back to me. I follow his gaze and understand immediately. The lighting in here makes everything look like a horror movie.
Bad light.
He's not wrong. Even the hockey sticks leaning against the wall have a hellish look to them.
"I know," I say softly, nuzzling his nose through his mask, scent be damned. "I know. But listen to me—the neutralizers I'm wearing are still blocking most of my scent. You need to actually smell me, not just the blanket. You need me to come back."
He's still shaking his head, pressing himself harder into the corner like he's trying to phase through the concrete.
"Then I won't look," I promise him. "I'll close my eyes. But you can't smell me properly through the mask, and I can barely smell you through mine. We're both covered in chemicals and fabric and I need—" My voice cracks. "I need to feel you. Please."
His breathing stutters.
I gather my hair and pull it away from my neck, exposing the area where my scent glands are beneath my skin. "Come here," I whisper, adjusting the blanket to create a small opening near my throat while keeping the rest of the fabric between us. "Just for a second. Just enough to breathe me in."
His hands rise toward his mask, then drop. Rise again. His fingers curl around the edge of the gaiter, knuckles white.
He won't look at me. His gaze fixes on some point over my shoulder, jaw tight, every line of his massive body screaming that this is the last thing he wants to do.
Close your eyes, he signs with one shaking hand. Please.
"Okay." I let my eyes fall shut. "They're closed. I promise."
I hear the soft rasp of fabric against skin. Feel the slight shift in the air as he moves closer. His uneven breath ghosts across my exposed throat.
He pauses there, hovering just above my skin. I can sense him fighting with himself, every instinct screaming at him to pull back, to hide, to yank his mask back up so there's no chance I will see what the red light is doing to his face.
Then he inhales.
Deep. Shuddering. Desperate.
I feel the brush of air against my neck, the slight warmth of his exhale. He breathes me in again and again, anchoring himself to my scent like it's the only thing keeping him from drowning.
The trembling in his body starts to ease. Not completely. But his breathing evens out.
"That's it," I murmur, keeping my eyes firmly shut, keeping my promise. "Just breathe. I've got you."
His arms tighten around me through the blanket. He buries his face in the space near my neck, inhaling again and again.
The feral edge recedes.
My alpha comes back to me.