Chapter 16 #2
Rennick rubs at the back of his neck beneath the hood.
“I— Fuck, Noa.” His sigh sounds like defeat and relief tangled as one.
“I just need to be close to you, all right? To know you’re safe.
Especially after what happened in Ashvale.
I was too far when it started, and I barely made it back in time.
” His hands flex uselessly at his sides before he gestures at the spot on the floor he’d claimed.
“This is as close as I can get without crossing into your space. And I’m not doing that until you tell me I can. ”
My heart twists. The image of him sitting out here all night, on the cold unforgiving wood floor, watching over me like a sentry…it hits something deep inside me. Adds another crack in the walls I’m losing the fight at keeping built between us.
“You…” My throat feels dry, my voice small. “Have you been doing this every night since I got here?”
He nods once, sheepish. “Yeah.”
My gaze drifts to the cracked doors of his bedroom just across the hall. “You do realize your bed’s literally right there,” I point out. “Wasn’t that the whole point of putting me in this room? So I’d be close to you?”
He takes one careful step forward. “It’s still not close enough.”
The breath leaves me in a stutter. My wolf rolls over inside me, baring her throat in quiet submission. All this time I’ve been lying awake wishing I could feel him nearby, not knowing he’s been here all along, fighting the same pull, just on the other side of the wall.
It hits me that neither of us have ever stopped reaching. We just learned new ways to pretend we weren’t.
“Ashvale really scared you, didn’t it?” I whisper, almost to myself.
His hand finds me before I can think to move away, fingers brushing my chin, coaxing my lip free from between my teeth.
The rough pad of his thumb follows, tracing the corner of my mouth like he’s trying to undo the hurt I caused myself, then skims higher across my cheekbone.
The tenderness he shows me still finds a way to catch me off guard.
“I never want to feel that kind of fear again,” he says, so low it’s nothing but a gravelly vibration between us. “But it’s not just that, baby.”
My eyes search his face, the dim light and the hood over his head casting shadows across his handsome features. Making him look as tired as I feel. “Then what is it?”
“There’s this ache,” he admits, pressing his free palm flat against the tanned skin of his sternum. “It’s constant. Even if I could ignore it, I wouldn’t want to. My wolf either. It’s what pulled him across state lines to find you. He couldn’t stand the distance between us any more than I can.”
My gaze drifts to his chest, to the place he touches like he’s guarding something precious.
I know that spot well. Where his still hums with something worth protecting, mine sits silent and hollow, nothing more than the yawning grave of where his bond used to live.
It’s where the rot began, the birthplace of my death sentence.
The memory of that night flickers through me, the faint swirl of flurries in the air, the stillness of the trees, the kind of cold that should have hurt but didn’t.
I remember laying there barely feeling the wind on my skin because the chill inside me was worse.
I’d already gone numb, frozen from the inside out, long before the little snowflakes ever touched me.
And then he found me.
His wolf.
Giant and threatening in a way that should have scared me.
But he’d been steady and warm instead. He pressed his body to mine, wrapped around me until the cold retreated.
It was the first real relief I’d felt since the rejection.
The first time I’d realized that Rennick’s nearness could quiet the pain.
I’d slept that night. Deeply. Peacefully. For the first time in days.
The thought slips free before I can stop it, instinct and need pushing past reason. “Can you shift?” I plead softly. “Now?”
His brows draw together, and his fingers flex on the side of my face. “Now? Here?”
“Yeah.” I nod once, steadying my voice. “Now.”
He studies me, the faint crease between his brows deepening. “Why?”
“Because…” I lean into his touch, his palm warm and settling against my cheek.
“I feel it too. The pull to be close to you.” It’s not a lie.
It’s just not the whole truth. I’m not ready to tell him that when he’s near, the sickness loosens its grip on me.
That my body quiets in a way it doesn’t when he’s away.
That his nearness is what’s keeping me alive.
So, I settle for this partial truth and pray it’s enough.
For now. “It’s always worse at night for me. It stops me from sleeping.”
Again. Not a complete lie.
I pause, reclaiming my lip between my teeth on how to best broach this next obstacle and still get what I need from him.
How to ask for his help but still not cross the line I’m fighting like hell to not cross yet.
Especially when the very mention of it—of her—still feels like hot blades to my chest cavity.
“I’m still struggling with it, Ren. You being promised to someone else.”
He opens his mouth, and I can already see it in his eyes—the same protest about Talis, the same insistence that she doesn’t matter. I stop him before he can start.
“Don’t,” I cut him off, lifting a hand between us, hovering close enough to his chest I can feel his body heat radiating from his bare skin.
“Whether you want to be or not doesn’t change the fact that you are.
” My throat tightens, but I push through it.
“Everything we’ve done…the way you’ve touched me, the creek, that morning in my room—it’s all tainted by that.
By her. It makes everything feel…like we’re doing something wrong. ”
He exhales through his nose, expression hardening. “You don’t owe Talis anything.”
Something sharp twists in me and my wolf bares her fangs at the sound of her name coming from his lips, but I swallow it all down.
“No,” I say quietly. “But I owe it to myself not to sleep beside a man who’s still technically engaged to someone else.”
He frowns, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“But your wolf…” I continue, watching his eyes narrow. “He’s always been loyal to me. He’s never once made me question where his devotion lies.” Rennick winces at this but doesn’t argue it. “I’ll share my bed with him.”
His brow lifts slightly, a mix of surprise and something looking a lot like jealousy flickering behind his eyes. “You want my wolf to stay with you tonight,” he utters slowly, “but not me?”
I smirk, the smallest spark of teasing finding its way through exhaustion.
“Correct. He’s already proven himself to be an excellent slumber party guest,” I joke, knowing Rennick will get the reference.
The faintest hint of amusement sparks in his expression as I add, “Do you think he’d be on board with it? ”
But he’s already moving.
“Sweet one,” he murmurs the moniker, the words low enough to make my stomach flutter. “He’s been dying to see you.”
He pulls his unzipped hoodie from his shoulders and holds it out to me.
My hands reach for it without thought, and the second the soft fabric touches my fingers, I know I won’t be giving it back.
It’s warm from his body, and the scent that floats off it—leather, vetiver, mint—wraps around me like addictive fog.
Something flickers behind Rennick’s eyes as he watches me clutch the hoodie to my chest, my fingers curling tight in the cotton. He knows it too. That this is mine now.
Good. Glad we’re on the same page, big guy, because if my omega throws a tantrum over this, neither of us is walking away with our dignity intact.
“Okay,” I nod, stepping back to give him space. “Then give him to me.”
It comes out more command than request, and the twitch at the corner of his mouth tells me he caught it. And that he approves of it.
He tugs the drawstring of his sweats loose, hesitating for a second, giving me the chance to turn away. I don’t. I lift a brow instead, daring him silently. His grin spreads, big, genuine, and possibly my undoing, as he slides them down his legs. He then holds them out to me like another offering.
I take them, pulse hammering, and try to keep my eyes up—mostly succeeding.
A heartbeat later, the air hums with the subtle pulse of power as his human form bends and shifts, bones reforming beneath skin until there’s a huge black-and-gray wolf with ghosty eyes standing before me.
He moves first, closing the space between us and pressing his massive head into my chest. The impact pushes me back half a step before I find my balance. My free hand buries itself in the thick fur at his neck. My fingers explore as he purrs, the vibration rumbling through my ribs.
“I missed you too,” I whisper, smiling when he lets out an answering rumble and licks my jaw. “Come on.”
He trails after me into my room, silent but for the faint click of claws on wood.
The big wolf leaps onto the bed in one smooth motion.
He turns in a slow circle before settling into a spot and lifting his head to look at me expectantly, like he’s waiting for me to catch up.
When I don’t, he flicks his tail once and lets out a small huff that feels suspiciously close to impatience.
I glance at the clothes in my hands. My practical side says to fold them and set them aside. But my instincts—my rising omega nature—disagrees vehemently along with my wolf. They want his scent close. Surrounding me. Comforting me.
Following an unfamiliar reflex and blindly trusting it to know what to do, I move to the bed and start weaving Rennick’s clothes into the blankets and pillows.
Is this… Am I nesting? The word flickers through me, making my stomach twist. My cheeks flush when I feel his attention on me.
Somewhere within the animal, I know Rennick is inside peering out, watching as I adjust and readjust until it finally feels right.
His wolf’s eyes track every movement too, patient and knowing, like he understands exactly what’s happening.
When I finally slip beneath the blankets, he shifts until his body molds to mine and his large head rests over my heart. His weight should feel like too much, smothering, but it doesn’t. It feels like relief. Like safety.
My fingers trace through his fur until the ache fades and the chill gives up. My eyes close, and for the first time in days, sleep comes easy.
If mercy exists, it’s here in this fleeting moment of peace I’ll bleed to be able to keep.