Page 18 of Big Bad Wolf

Then back at the chamber pot.

“You cannot be serious.”

He sets it beside the nest like a man delivering a solution to a completely reasonable problem. I guess, to him, he is. He doesn’t want me to go outside, and he obviously doesn’t have a toilet in here, but he just provided me with the next best thing.

I rub a hand over my face. “Let me guess. You’re not going to turn around to give me privacy, are you?”

“Wolf watches. He will keep Red safe.”

Of course he will.

To be fair, I should be more embarrassed than I am to hike up my dress, squat over the pot, and let it go. The stream lasts so long, the tinkling sound as it hits the empty pot is a little humiliating, but I meant it when I said I don’t bother with shame. Between peeing myself and returning to Blackmoor stinking of urine or using a chamber pot, it’s a no-brainer which one I’m picking.

No-brainer, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m all that happy he refused to at least turn around…

When I’m finally done, I do my best to drip-dry before figuring that’s a lost cause. Letting my dress fall down so that I’m as decent as it’s possible to be, I put the lid on the pot, then nudge it away from me with the side of my boot and scowl at him.

“Now what?” I ask. And then, because it’s bad enough I’m still wet and not in a good way, I focus on something else. “How do I wash my hands?”

Wolf takes the pot. “Wolf will be right back.”

Then he’s gone, ducking through the front door and out into the darkness beyond.

I stare after him for a moment, gaping at the open door.

He didn’t… did he? Like, he didn’t just walk out the door and vanish, leaving me the best opportunity to make a break for it since I was brought to the cottage?

Yes. Yes, he did.

I’m heading for the open door before I can think better of it. I don’t know where the cloak is after he removed it from me before our nap earlier, and if it’s in that magic drawer, I don’t want to waist time trying to figure out how to make it work for me. I’ll deal like this. On the plus side, I have boots which should make it a whole lot easier to put some distance between Wolf and me.

Jesus Christ, he’s fast. I’m not even halfway across the small room before he’s returning, kicking the door closed behind him with one of his huge ass paws.

I stop on a dime, scurrying back over to the nest before he can guess that I had escape on the mind. Completely oblivious—though I doubt that’s the case—he carries a small brass basin in one hand. The chamber pot is nowhere in sight, as though he swapped it out for this basin, and when I see what’s inside of it, I understand why.

Well, no. I understand why he has it. I just don’t really understand why he went and retrieved it…

Wolf brings it over to me, setting it down on the floor beside the nest. He gestures with a claw until I’m looking at a basin full of cold, clear water.

“River water,” he says. “Red can clean her hands.”

Because it would be a massive middle finger to Wolf’s attempts to take care of me to refuse, I drop down to my knees and dip my fingers into the basin. I jolt notably, shivering almost instantly. The river water is fucking freezing, but it’s clean, and I’d rather shove my hand into its iciness than think I’m walking around with pee on my fingers.

Wolf crouches in front of me while I do it, close enough that his knees nearly brush mine, watching with the same intent focus he uses when I eat.

And that does it for me.

“Why?” I ask before I can stop myself.

His cocks his head. “Why what?”

“This.” I flick water from my fingertips and gesture vaguely between us. “The food. The water. The…” I nearly say ‘piss pot’ and decide I probably shouldn’t. “Everything.”

He looks honestly confused that I have to ask.

“Red is Wolf’s mate.”

That isn’t the first time he’s called me that since I woke up beside him earlier this morning. He seems to take it for granted that I know what it means—and I’m chronically online with a fan fiction habit, so I think I do—but what does that mean to Wolf?