15. Avery
Avery
T he moon was out, and that was weird, because when I was dragged into the house, it was raining.
But now it was clear, everything bathed in blue tones, and the long grass to the right of the meadow I was in fluttered in the crisp breeze.
I could smell the earth, fresh moss, balsam and cedar, and even a campfire in the distance.
It was soothing, and I wanted to curl up beside one of the trees and close my eyes.
I needed to rest.
The problem was, something was moving at the edge of the field. I wasn’t alone, and so instead of just dropping to the ground like every muscle in my body told me to, I moved toward the sound, lifting my muzzle to scent the air, trying to catch a whiff to identify the presence.
I was stunned when an enormous dire wolf, gray and black with traces of silver in his thick coat and on the tips of his ears, stepped from the tree line. He stared at me a long moment and then bolted toward me.
Running would be a mistake. He was bigger, stronger, faster; he’d be on me in seconds and take me down if I did anything but stand my ground.
Growling, threatening him, would also be a mistake.
To try and make myself small but not vulnerable, capable but not antagonistic, seemed like the best answer.
When he veered off at the last second, running by me, crashing into the long grass and disappearing out of sight, I was surprised.
I could hear him charging around, doing zoomies like my stupid cat did at three in the morning, and when he popped out a second time, just his head before he was gone again, I realized that perhaps he was mad.
Wolves didn’t play with others they found in their territory; they killed them. So what was with him circling me in the grass but not attacking?
When he shot out of the grass again, running by me, he hit me. He didn’t do it hard, he didn’t hurt me, but the force was enough to tumble me to the ground.
Getting up, I growled, and when he flew by again, he nipped my ear and then tugged on my tail. The next time, I shot away from him, because he was fast, but I was agile, could turn faster, and so dove forward and nipped his back leg.
His balance upset, he rolled into the grass, out of sight, but then shot right back out to face me.
I snarled.
He crouched down, and when I took a step forward, he lunged and caught my nose with his wet tongue.
Stunned, I stood there frozen as he got closer, nuzzled his nose into my ear, under my neck, and then moved so he rubbed up against me, and waited.
When he took a step back, I mirrored his movement, stepping forward, wanting, for whatever reason, to stay close. I would not be separated, though I didn’t understand why, so even when he turned and sped away, I ran too. After only moments, I was keeping pace with him, running at his side.
We ran fast over the forest floor, crushing fallen leaves under our paws, crossed through small streams, the shadows that would have normally made me wary causing no hint of concern because this beautiful, fearsome creature was with me.
When we found a second meadow, smaller and covered in thick, sweet grass, he veered into me, knocking me off my feet, rolling me over and over until I came to a stop, lying on my back, paws in the air, staring up at the stars.
He flopped down beside me, head on his paws, staring at me.
Rolling to my side, I stared back at him, and he lifted his head, amber gaze holding mine as his pheromones engulfed me and I breathed in his incredible scent.
Oh. Yes. That was why. This was the reason I couldn’t be separated.
My mate. I was staring at my mate.
Rolling over, whimpering, I crawled forward and rolled again to my back, offering him my throat, crying for him.
Biting my neck, he kept me still for a moment before he nudged me forward, wanting me to run. But I was so tired, and I just wanted to rest.
He rose to leave me, running forward and then circling back, and when he did it a second time I got up, even though it was hard. Everything hurt, my body was so heavy I could barely lift my paws but…I had to follow. I had to be with him.
Whining for him to stop only made him run faster, and I fell, a lot, and it was hard to get back up, but he waited only a moment, so I had to catch up.
I felt as though I were running through mud, and I slowed, but he was there, just ahead, so I pushed on, needing us to stay together.
It was strange, but he smelled like a promise.
He smelled like a warm den, and I had to keep going so I could curl up beside him when we got there.
It felt like we ran for days, and gradually my paws weren’t sticking in mud anymore. I could lift them easier, I had traction, and I felt a surge of speed, and he called for me, and I ran and ran. And flying forward, I leaped from the forest floor and dropped—
“Avery!”
There were lights everywhere, and my chest was on fire, and I screamed and flailed because I was terrified. It had been quiet and dark and serene and—where was my mate?
“Stop!”
The yell was like thunder, and everyone froze, no one touching me as Graeme was hovering over me, looking terrible and beautiful at the same time.
“Turn off the light,” he ordered, and with a click, everything muted, got quiet again. “There, love, calm down, just breathe for me.”
I concentrated on in and out, looking up at his puffy red eyes, wondering what in the world was going on.
There was a nurse, I saw her out of the corner of my eye as my head rolled, and I saw an IV bag and all the monitors before I turned my head to see Graeme again.
“Come sleep with me in the den.”
Yes, somehow that seemed imperative, such a simple request that called to something primitive in me. I didn’t even care if anyone heard my whimper, I just wanted to curl up beside my mate. When he bent down and hugged me, I could finally breathe.
My eyes fluttered, and it took me a second of blinking to realize I was looking at a window with rain beating against the glass.
Beneath the window was what looked like a wide padded shelf, and stretched out on that was my mother.
There was a crocheted blanket covering her—one my grandmother had made—and she was fully dressed, except for her Duck boots on the floor near her.
Closer, sitting in a recliner, was my mate, head back, eyes closed, holding my hand even in sleep. He looked so good, so warm, so strong, so much like home that I rolled sideways so I could stare at him.
Turning my head, I saw Kat at the end of my bed. “You have a light step,” I told her, because I’d had no idea there was anyone else in the room. It wasn’t that I just hadn’t noticed her at first; I had missed her completely.
She nodded. “So I’ve been told.”
I noted her expression, how soft it was when she looked at Graeme, and then harder when she met my gaze. “You have something to say.”
“I do.”
“Please.”
“There has to be a compromise.”
“Of?”
With a quick tip of her head, she indicated Graeme. “You want to keep all the freedom you’ve always enjoyed even now that you’ve found your mate,” she apprised me coolly. “That’s impossible.”
I’d been thinking about that myself.
“He, being an alpha, would prefer complete submission.”
“Yes.”
“Equally impossible.”
“Agreed.”
“He’s a smart man. He knows, logically, that it is precisely your independence he finds so attractive.”
I took a breath. “What do you think?”
Slight smile from her. “I appreciate you asking me instead of telling me to go to hell.”
“It’s concessions, isn’t it?” I asked her. “On both sides. I have to impose my own limits on myself and be mindful of how I’d feel if the roles were reversed.”
“Yes.”
“And he?”
“He will understand,” Graeme said, and I gasped and turned to him, finding him standing now beside my bed, “when you cannot call in the middle of a situation, and will try not to lose his mind. He will work at having faith.”
I lifted my arms, and he bent and filled them, hugging me, but not nearly tight enough. “I won’t break,” I husked into the side of his neck.
“That has not yet been validated,” he assured me. “You were shot once in the shoulder and twice in the chest.”
I was? “How long ago?”
“Two days ago.”
Jolting in his arms, not wanting to let go, afraid to ask more questions but needing to, I took a breath. “Wade?”
“Everyone is alive.”
“Not Lucas.” I would grieve his loss.
He scoffed.
Letting my hands fall from around his neck, I tipped my head back and looked up at his face. “Graeme?”
“Lucas was gravely injured, and he lost quite a bit of blood, but once he shifted to his wolf and then back, just as you did once the bullets were removed, the healing could begin.”
“How did he have the will to shift with so much damage?” I baited him, because of course I knew. There could be only one answer.
“Because I’m so happy to see you, I’m not even going to yell.”
I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him. “You saved Lucas by ordering him to shift for you.”
“It was done for you,” he replied flatly. “I knew it was what you would want.”
“You knew it was the right thing to do because you’re such a good man,” I murmured happily, loving his hand in my hair and the other rubbing circles on my back, and the kiss on my forehead. “Now, tell me everything from the beginning.”
“I will,” he mumbled, hugging me before he collapsed back down onto the recliner, put his head back, and closed his eyes. “As soon as I can think again.”
I turned to look at Kat.
“He has not left your side once in two days. Three hours ago your doctor came in and pronounced you healed. We just had to wait for you to wake up. Then, and only then, did he close his eyes.”
“Don’t make me sound like a saint,” Graeme groused at her. “I’m not…that…good.”
His breathing was slow and even in seconds.
“He is now, and has always been, one of the very best men.”
“I know,” I assured her. “He saved me, didn’t he?”