“Okay, a lot,” she concedes. “Just don’t judge us too harshly. We’re not monsters.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Her smile dims a little, but she doesn’t take offence. She plops down beside me on the bed like we’ve known each other forever. “So. Three years alone in the woods, huh? That must’ve been wild.”
I shrug, fingering the soft fabric of the shirt she brought. “Better than being caged.”
She nods at that. Doesn’t push. Just sits with the statement for a second before trying again. “Can I ask how you did it? Living all alone out there?”
“I wasn’t always alone. I had a pet squirrel named Pip. He kept me company for a while.”
“Oh my god, that’s adorable! A pet squirrel?”
“Yeah. Until my wolf ate him.”
Her eyes widen. She opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again. “That’s… tragic?”
“I cried for a week. Mostly because he was delicious.”
She bursts out laughing, and despite myself, I join in. It feels good. Strange and unfamiliar. Rougher than it used to be. Less practiced. But real.
“But in all seriousness,” I say, my voice softening, “I did cry for a week.”
The laughter fades into a quiet that doesn’t feel empty. The first comfortable silence I’ve shared with another person in years. Weird as hell, but nice.
Heavy footsteps. Darius reappears in the doorway. “What do you want for dinner, Blue?”
Without missing a beat: “Mashed potatoes, chocolate pudding, and Diet Coke.”
He nods and turns to leave, but I’m not done.
“Darius.”
He stops. Looks back.
“Why are you being nice all of a sudden?”
He shrugs. “We’re always nice.” I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or genuinely delusional.
“Nice would be letting me go or at least letting me shift.”
He shrugs again. “Nice would also be staying with us.” And then he’s gone.
Lily grins, nudging my shoulder. “Damn, girl. You’ve already got those alphas wrapped around your little finger.”
I scoff, rattling my chain. “Yeah. I’m clearly running the show here.”
After Lily leaves, I examine the clothes she brought. A few t-shirts, a pair of jeans, and underwear still in their packaging. I lie back and close my eyes, but I can feel my body worsening by the minute.
An hour later, my skin turns clammy. My muscles seize and cramp. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I can’t wipe it away because my hand is shaking too much to lift.
My breathing goes shallow. The pain moves from my muscles into my chest, heavy and crushing.
I try to call out, but my voice comes out as a rasp. I don’t have the energy to shout. Don’t have the energy for anything.
“Shit,” I mumble, sliding off the bed and sinking to the floor. The chain feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. “This is bad. Really bad.”
I try one more time. Nothing. Not even a sound that would carry past the door.