The sound of Rynn changing the sheets filtered into the washroom, and I quickly cleaned myself up before returning to her with a wet washcloth.
Rynn had her back to me, but I could tell by her posture that she was annoyed, probably because I’d once again dodged a personal question.
“Here.” I held out the washcloth. “Water pressure isn’t great, which you probably know. Thought a washcloth would work better . . .” And now I was rambling. What was wrong with me?
Rynn spun around, and a pair of pants hit my face. “Put some clothes on! You’re hideous,” she hissed.
I chuckled. This felt more like familiar territory. She clearly wasn’t that mad at me if my nakedness made her uncomfortable. I tossed her the washcloth, then tugged on the pants.
She wiped off her lower face and neck before looking at her shirt with a grimace. The top half was stained red.
“It’s a lost cause. You can grab one of mine.” I pointed towards an armoire against the wall. Even though I didn’t visit all that often, these quarters were reserved for me only. It was always stocked with clothing and my favorite liquor and wine. I’d thought it was a waste, but Altair had insisted it was no hardship on them. Now I got to see Rynn in one of my shirts, so in this particular moment, I was extremely glad I hadn’t pressed the issue.
Even if it was somewhat laughable that Altair felt I expected accommodations like this when I’d spent most of my childhood sleeping on a dank, damp floor in the bottom level of our family home.
Wordlessly, Rynn walked over to the closet, tossing the damp washcloth on top of the ruined bedding. I’d need to dispose of those tomorrow before anyone saw them; otherwise, I’d have to answer a bunch of questions I had no interest in addressing.
Rynn yanked the closet door open a little rougher than necessary and pulled her shirt off, dropping it to the floor. I probably should’ve looked away, but I didn’t.
Rynn was built lean and corded with muscle. I’d seen her naked several times, usually when she raced back to the stronghold with Ryker hot on her tail and shifted to scream at him. Those two seriously hated each other. In those instances, I’d been too amused by the insults they’d hurled at each other to pay too much attention to her physique, but looking at her now, as the muscles rippled over her back while she grabbed a shirt . . .
When had I developed a fetish for back muscles? I frowned. Warrick. This was definitely his fault.
Desperate for a need to think of literally anything else, I opened my mouth. “It’s basically down to your knees. You can take your pants off.”
Rynn shot me a look over her shoulder. “You wish.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can we go back to bed now? I’ll deal with all that in the morning.” I waved at the pile of bloody linens.
“Fine.” Rynn stalked back to the bed and settled onto her side.
I had to bite back a laugh at how much sulking she’d sunk into her movements. It was even more amusing because I knew she didn’t mean to do it. She was just being herself and wearing her heart on her sleeve.
Or rather, my sleeve. I really did like how she looked in my shirt.
I slid under the covers and tried to get comfortable. It was rare that I slept in clothing, and I didn’t like it one bit, but I knew Rynn would say something if I took my pants off, so I did my best to deal with it. We lay there for a few uncomfortable minutes, both of us feigning sleep.
The third time she twisted under the covers, I broke.
“I don’t like to talk about personal things with anyone.” The words leapt out of my mouth before I could think of a better way to phrase it. A way that wasn’t so . . . straightforward. Normally, I liked to wrap my meaning in pretty words, but instead, I’d just thrown myself out there. “It isn’t a reflection on you or our situation,” I explained, as if that would help things when my mind was still a mess.
“The situation of you lot being trapped with me and me being trapped with you? And we’re all supposed to just make the best of it?” Rynn asked tightly.
“Yeah,” I rasped, “that one.”
Rynn rolled over onto her side to face me. “I said I was fine with how things were, and I meant it. I’ll . . .” She trailed off. “I’ll deal with it.”
Alarm bells started going off in my mind. “Deal with it how, exactly?”
“You’ll be the first to know.” She smiled at me sweetly. “But we don’t tell each other secrets, Bastian. I won’t ask about yours anymore, but don’t ask about mine.”
“Fair enough, I suppose,” I said, even as I absolutely planned on figuring out what she was up to, because Rynn wasn’t the type to just take something and accept it. She’d fought like all the hells not to come to our pack, and now that she understood fully what her situation was . . . she would fight against that too.
She would lose. There was no winning in Lunaria, just different shades of losing, but that wouldn’t stop my dear from trying.
Still, it had been nice falling asleep with her before my nightmare.
“There might come a day when you hate me,” I said slowly. When Rynn arched a single eyebrow at me, a small smile spread across my lips and I amended my statement. “Hate me more than you already do.” She nodded, the corners of her mouth quirking up in amusement, and I continued, “There also might come a day when you do something that makes me wish I had finished what my nightmare started.”
