29. What you not gonna even pretend anymore?
I watch them both. They don't speak to each other, but I can tell they've established some kind of understanding. The understanding being: neither of them is trying to kill the other. At least not now.
My eyes drift to the leader's hands as he works, the way he moves with such careful precision. His own cuts have almost closed up completely. I breathe out softly in relief, and his eyes flick up to mine for just a moment before returning to his work.
I watch those steady hands work, the smooth confidence of each movement. Why can't I look away? There's something almost—
"Communicator, can you hand me the bandage?"
"Yes," I answer without thinking, pulled from my thoughts by his deep voice.
But when the stranger's gaze returns to me, an uncomfortable feeling spreads through my chest and I find myself completely unable to move, my feet planted firmly on the ground.
This wolf is different from the leader—less controlled, more frantic, almost... feral.
When I don't move, the leader turns, still holding the disinfectant in one hand and some bloody cloth in the other. He watches me, patient, like he has all the time in the world.
No demand. No command. Just... waiting.
The stranger shifts slightly, probably expecting him to order me forward. But he doesn't. The silence stretches. I take a breath and force my feet forward. One step. Two. My hand shakes slightly as I reach for the bandages.
The stranger snarls, "You trained her well.'"
I stop in my tracks, the bandages still clutched in my hand. My eyes snap to the leader, waiting for his reaction.
His entire body goes still. His eyes fixed on the stranger now.
Then he turns to me. He looks almost... well, there's no other way to put it... he looks bored.Then he takes the bandages from my still-frozen hand, his fingers brushing mine briefly.
"What do you want me to do?" he asks, and I look at him, perplexed.
"What?" I blink.
I have no idea what he's talking about.
His eyes stay on mine, completely serious.
"He insulted you." A pause. "I can make him stop, or I can keep patching him up. Tell me which."
I get goosebumps on my arms. Not because of the stranger's gaze on me, but because of his words, because of his choice. He gave me a choice.
He shifts slightly, angling his body between me and the stranger as he asks again, "What do you want me to do?"
"I..." I glance at the injured wolf, then back at the leader. The way he pronounced the word stop leaves me to imagine what he would do, but I don't want to find out. I don't want to be the cause of more violence.
"Keep helping him."
The leader nods once, like that settles it, and turns back to the wolf.
The stranger's eyes dart between us, and I can see him trying to process what he's witnessing.
"Thank you," he murmurs to me, then turns his attention back to him.
The stranger is still staring at me, but it's different now. Less predatory, more... calculating.
"She's really got you on a leash," he mutters, low enough that he probably thinks I won't hear.
The leader doesn't even pause in his work.
"What, you're not going to even pretend anymore?" the stranger presses.
"Why? What's the point? We both know she does," he replies casually.
And just like that, the stranger's mouth snaps shut. I freeze.
She does.
He said it so casually, like it's just a fact.
"We'll stay here a few hours," the leader says, not looking at me. "You need sleep."
"I'm fine—"
"You're swaying on your feet."
Oh. I am.
He gestures to a corner where someone's dragged in what looks like old blankets.