Calex

"Let her sleep," Flynn huffs. "She can eat once she's rested."

As much as I don't want to agree with him, he's right. She may have healed from her physical ailments, but mentally, she's exhausted. Three attempts to wake her is evident enough, and the food should keep for a few hours. Each time, she would mumble something incoherent under her breath and roll over with a soft furrow of the brows. I'm still trying to get over it; I've seen others in passing and the off chance of company, both parties sleep in the strangest positions, snoring, and wearing odd facial expressions. But not my little female. She's still beautiful bundled up under the thick blanket on my bed, emitting soft breaths, and soaking it up.

"I want to lay beside her," he groans, flopping down.

Staring at her from the doorway a moment longer, I release a long sigh. "Me too."

With a sharp turn, I exit the room along with the cabin altogether before the urge to act on it sinks in. If it weren't for the state she's in and the feelings she harbours toward me, I would wrap her in my arms and never let go.

Placing a palm over my chest, I stop short. This new desire leaves me queasy, in a surprisingly good way. I didn't think I would feel it again, not this intense. Who would after being in the front row seat to something horrendous, opening your eyes to the world not being butterflies and rainbows. Christ, I wish I could just bury my nose in her hair, to get drunk in her scent while each lock splays across my pillows.

The sweet thoughts turn grey, fading to the back of my mind as the notion of her shift filters in. The second it's over, she'll disappear and never think twice about me.

Nothing will change—

"Calex, snap out of it. Our Mate will come around," Flynn assures, blocking out my opposing thoughts. "For now, you have to focus on giving her a comfortable first shift; show her she's wrong about you. That should get your foot in."

Again, I hate to agree, but he's right. I can't shift this feeling burrowing in my chest, or how it makes me feel vulnerable, twisting my stomach until the urge to vomit follows. Sucking in deep breaths, I wait for it to subside, but it only thins out into something else. Hope. And Flynn can sense it too as he snorts, lowering his head to his paws. All of this because of my little female. Maybe it's a good thing I don't have a name; if I hear so much as a syllable of it, I'm doomed. I can feel it in my bones.

"Why don't you prepare the blankets?" he insists, but it's not pushy like before. "Remember the plan."

The plan. It's all I can think about, especially after his encouraging words. Since I put her down to rest, I've triple checked the meat to make sure it had been wrapped in fresh leaves that had been doused in water. I even stoked the fire to keep the cabin warm for if she were to wake before the transition. In between the two tasks, I peeked in on her to make sure she wasn't having any problems during her sleep, and I'm grateful she's getting some rest.

"We're not going to lose her, I can feel it," Flynn pipes up, and that alone sparks the glimmer of hope within my chest.

Flynn's determination is enough for me to know he holds an air of trust for her. After the event thirteen years ago, Flynn has never let anyone close to us, or the other way around if he so much as sniffed the putrid scent of deceit. Considering there isn't any doubt with her chips at the weight on my shoulders. Since the moment I saw her, I could feel an aura of warmth around her, and within a few hours of watching her, I could tell she's resilient and kind.

Maybe if things went differently back then, things could've fallen in place already.

Huffing out a breath, I pace to the cabin, delaying the time I'll see her peaceful features and the hurt it brings with the thought of her wanting to leave. Focusing on the task at hand, I delve into the basket brimming with furs and blankets I've accumulated over time and scatter them across the floorboards in the sitting room for her to feel the warmth of the fire. Using the thicker furs for a base and the thinner ones for the boundary, I finish it off by rounding it with blankets.

"It looks like a nest."

My chest puffs out in pride as I stare down at it, imagining her wolf writhing and snuggling deeper inside for warmth, releasing a contented chuff, and relaxing. Glancing over my shoulder at the bucket of water, I tick it off my mental list before taking my leave, resisting the urge to check in on her on the way out.

"I'm sure she will appreciate this," he starts once I begin roaming the expanse of the grass in front of the cabin for any sticks I may have missed that could catch her during transition, and patches of mud she might slip on.

"I hope so," I whisper aloud, scattering a handful of leaves over a bare patch in the grass.

Peering up at the darkened sky, I shake my head and adjust the leaves. It's hard to tell if the day going by slowly is a good thing or not. Positive: she doesn't have to go through the transition, prolonging the discomfort she'll experience. Negative: she'll search for any possible excuse to leave.

Shit. When I'm convinced I've pushed it to the back of my mind, it manages to wiggle its way in again.

"You're doing good, Calex; all we can do is wait," he states, and my feet jerk to a halt.

Those familiar feelings return, leaving me useless when the thought of stopping for even a second crosses my mind, and something new. Responsibility. And it's suffocating. Being responsible for the rogues is a walk in the park, this however, is different. I have to—want to make sure she has everything she needs, to protect her, to teach her. They know what is expected of them, and I have to keep the balance. The last time I remember such a thing was when they were ready to learn the basics of hunting—

No. I'm not going there.

So far, there hasn't been a strong aura of her wolf. There was a flicker of her earlier, and I was surprised when she ushered her human side to rub against me. I'm curious about the idea, but it was only a fleeting moment. Flynn is bent on the idea it was to show we had no ill intentions, and that's a suitable answer to satiate my concerns. It's understandable for her to remain absent, her host is weak along with her mind, and both need to get their strength up to start syncing. She should come out in the next forty-eight hours, and I hope our Mate likes her. She could do with the bond of a wolf to accompany her.

Collecting a stick off the ground, I throw it toward the treeline. "Did I lay out the clothes?"

"Yes."

"Do you think the patrol around the perimeter left a strong mark?" I press, chucking another stick to the side.

There's a snort. "It should have, you ran around it twice," he deadpans. "You missed one."

Spotting it, it ends up with the others. "Thanks. Have I—"

"Calex, you need to stop. If you work yourself up like this, you're not going to do yourself any favours, let alone our Mate. This is nothing like what happened with your—" I lease a growl, and he returns a small one in response. "Them. Focus on our female in the now, not the future."

Straightening my posture, I inhale deeply through my nose, then release it as a lengthy exhale, allowing it to take my frustration and worries. Rolling my shoulders, I adjust the pile of leaves to cushion the main portion of her shift. If Flynn has confidence after everything that's transpired with our female, then I'll take some of it. I'm not going to let this opportunity slip by.

I'm about to thankhim when an ear-piercing scream cuts through the clearing.