Eve

"I'm back?"

Peering down at myself, a large grin spreads across my face as I stare at my fingers.

I'll never complain about their coordination ever again.

Throwing myself backward onto the pillow with a giggle, I freeze. His scent is empowering, a glowing neon sign I'm in his bed. Again. I'm smart enough to know he put me here, but the questions why and when come forth. I can't imagine him carrying me as a wolf to his bed, let alone tucking me in. Logical explanation, I changed during the night and he came through. For the second time, I can't help but wonder where he slept.

My gut twists, and those overwhelming emotions flood in like a tidal wave. Turmoil, gratitude, and distrust. This time around, I strangely hate myself for distrusting him after all the effort he's put in for me.

My stomach howls, and the familiar wave of hunger sifts through. It would be rude of me to help myself to his food, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind a measly sandwich. At least, I hope he won't.

Speaking of, where is he?

After last night's conversation, I thought he would be up and ready to take me back, not up and ready to leave me unsupervised. Blowing out a breath, swinging my legs over the side of the mattress, I hop to my feet with the intention to investigate, only a fresh pair of clothes folded at the end of the bed catch my eye. Holding them up for a better inspection, a waft of his scent hits me. A shiver runs down my spine, then a trickle of heat shoots to my face at the idea of wearing another man's clothing.

Glancing down at myself, I shriek, catching slithers of skin between the cracks in the material. 

I guess there's no choice for it now.

Now that I'm on my feet, I'm amazed with how refreshing my body feels; no discomfort, pain, or new additions like an irreversible tail. It feels like me, only a little stronger, and more well rested than it had been since this nightmare started.

Twisting in glee, I relish the feeling before taking the time as a free bird to scrutinise his room. I can't help but 'huh' at it. It's surprisingly tidy; tucked in the corner is a basket with a stray blanket, a tiny table sits beside the small double bed, and the bed itself doesn't appear to be a problem but has seen better days. Dropping my line of sight to the misty brown fur rug sleeping at the foot of the bed, I'm stuck between if it's real or not, and if so, what animal it could be.

Knowing if this were my place, I would like a visitor to be respectful—even if it is semi against my will—he should have the same treatment in his. That can be my thank you.

Shuffling around the bed, I make sure the sheet isn't crinkled and pulled taught over the mattress before lining up the corners of his blanket the best I can due to the slight difference in inches. With a nod of approval, I spin on my heels and exit the room.

Entering the neighbouring room where sleeping originally had been the plan, the furs and blankets I slept on remain in their pile near the fire which is on its way out but still manages to emit warmth. As far as I'm aware, this must be the first time it's on the verge of fizzling out, this place never seems to be cold.

Continuing the investigation, there aren't any blinds or curtains in sight, and floorboards cover the expanse of this place. To my astonishment, there isn't a sitting room or kitchen, but there is a bathroom full to the brim with essentials, most of it being medical care.

Aunt Josephine would love this, minus him not having a sitting room for her to watch her own reruns of The Walking Dead, or the kitchen where she could cook her famous muffins. The happy thought puts me on the brink of tears, and my best plan to take my mind off it is to go on a hunt for what this guy does to pass time around here.

And nothing. Nada. Empty.

Abandoning ship, I slip inside the bathroom, thankful for the lock. I've seen the power of these guys, so I doubt a lock would be the best barrier if I decided to be defiant and shut myself away and keep his toilet hostage.

It's hard to bring myself to strip out of my clothes even though they're wrecked, because it feels like I'm chucking a piece of my old life away, and I don't know when I'm going to see my own clothes again, let alone my home. When I do, I'm horrified at the state of my underwear, and my pants fall straight off my hips. Knowing there's no way to salvage them, I return my attention to the bra that's hanging off one shoulder. Sliding off the best strap, I keep the band around me while tying the shreds at the back together for extra support. After a few jumps and jiggles, it remains in place to my relief.

His shirt is huge on me, yet it's comfy, and I'm glad to be wearing looser joggers with my current situation, but I have to tie the drawstrings tight to keep them on my hips.

Unsure of what to do, I hide the knickers in my old clothes and slide out of the door, making sure to shut it behind me before setting them in a neat pile by the furs.

This is going to get humiliating fast, I need proper underwear—

The front door swinging open with a thump startles me, and my first weird instinct is to inhale the air, and the smell wafting up my nose doesn't match my brief helper's. The only thing they have in common is the doggish note to it, other than that, this person's odour is like the woods and vanilla. Forcing myself to remain still at the time was a good plan, but the second the floorboard creaks by the entrance, I can sense he's planning to enter. For some reason, this guy is being cautious, eradicating any thought of it being my helper, but signalling he could be lurking nearby.

Whirling around, my breath catches. I wish I could lie and say this man isn't handsome, but my underwear—if I had any—would be smoking. Although, as much as I hate to admit it, my helper is still the winner. I know if Aunt Josephine was still here, she would have a great time debating about it. As if reading my thoughts, he cocks his head to the side with the faintest quirk of the lips before scrubbing a hand over a cleanly shaven jaw.

He's definitely bigger than me, perhaps the same height as the other guy if not shorter, certainly not as broad, and his hair is tamer; it's not as long on the ends, it has a slight shagginess to it and ends just behind his ears. My helper's is rougher and ends at the nape of his neck. Both of them share the 'I've got enough hair to run your fingers through' vibe, and this one wears his hair higher than his eyebrows while the other sports it a little closer.

Trailing my gaze toward his face, I freeze at the sight of piercing blue eyes staring back at me.

Swallowing my nerves, I raise my chin. "W-who are you? I'm sure y-you're not supposed to be here."

Where the hell is he?

Taking a lengthy step inside the cabin, my pulse jumps in response. Mirroring the action so I have the room behind me in case I have to hop back, I don't dare to break eye contact, and he cocks a brow in response before inching closer. Biting the bullet, I break the contact, internally screaming when no visible exit comes to me other than a shut window in the room behind me.

There's an audible inhale before it's released as a deep growl. "I came for you."

Bracing myself, I squeeze my eyes shut, hearing rushed footfalls.

Please don't let him take me!

There's a menacing snarl before there're miniature thuds followed by a gust directly in front of me. Squinting, I dare a peek, and my mouth falls open on a gasp at the sight of my helper standing protectively before me with another raspy growl.

"You stay away from her!"

The darker haired man returns the tone, eyes blazing as he attempts to stare the other guy down, only, I think my helper is more intimidating even though the intruder makes me want to pee myself. Being in a room with two of those creatures is all it takes to bring the fear back, and it engulfs me as tears trickle down my face, recalling the events of that night. One to start, one to finish—

"Did he hurt you?"

Shaken, I shake my head. "N-no."

He stiffly nods, still not turning over his shoulder to meet my gaze.

Did he hear me just now? I didn't mean to share it if he did, but that would mean. . .

Staring at the back of his head with wide eyes, I'm snapped out of my thoughts when the trespasser speaks. "I came for the female; as a newly transitioned wolf, it is in her best interest to come with me, and since I don't trust your capabilities, it should be her only interest." Risking a look around my helper, I meet his eye before they flick to the man he's addressing. "Considering your offences, I wouldn't make things worse by putting up a fight—"

"Jax, I suggest it's better for us to leave the female," another voice interrupts. The floor creaks from the new entry, and when I make another appearance from behind my new protector, there's another guy. "We might be wrong this time."

Unlike the other two, this one doesn't wear a hard exterior purposefully. He has soft features, a firm but gentle jawline, and fluffy toffee hair that lightly dusts above irises that remind me of chocolate. When he notices me staring, he offers a kind smile that shockingly takes the edge off the terror I was feeling moments ago. Blushing, I duck behind my helper.

At least I know the darker haired one of the three is called Jax.

The man protecting me snaps, "You can't have her, she's mine." His head shifts to eye both of them. "I told Kaden I would attend a meeting, now get the fuck out of my cabin."

"And I said not without the female!" the one called Jax fires, taking a defiant step toward us.