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I squeezed the pillow harder, wishing it was Dom, knowing he would keep me safe. I shook my head at my own thought. I was pretty sure feminism had just taken a giant step back with that one thought. A knock on the door interrupted my internal castigation and I called, “Come in,” already suspecting who was at the door.
“Hey,” Wren said softly, the only volume I think she had as she eased inside. I pushed myself up from the bed, not saying anything as I waited for her to explain why she’d come to my room. She fidgeted for a minute, no doubt waiting for me to ask, but I stayed silent, and eventually she moved closer to the bed. “I wanted to check on you, make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” I replied automatically, knowing I wasn’t actually fine, but also that she couldn’t fix this newfound fear I’d developed. Part of me knew it wasn’t really Dylan I was scared of, but what he represented. Coming face to face with a full grown wolf charging me had forced me to confront how defenseless I was when it came to the wolves around me. It sounded pitiful in my own head that I wanted Dom here to comfort me and make me feel safe from the big bad wolves at the door, especially since he was one of the biggest. I used to think I could handle anything, until I’d come here and discovered there was more to the world than I realized.
Wren eyed me, but didn’t refute my statement. She wandered around the room, taking a similar path as Trent, and I started to wonder what was so damn fascinating about my stuff. She eventually made her way to the bed where I sat and took a deep breath, making me think she was going to finally say what was on her mind. “I wanted to know if you could explain again about Dylan’s….” Her voice trailed off as she glanced down at my nightstand and I arched an eyebrow, as she paled. Her fingers touched the creased picture resting on the nightstand, and I wondered what was so special about it.
“Are you alright?” It was my turn to ask as the silence lingered. “You mentioned Dylan?” I prompted and she nodded faintly, still staring at the photo like she’d seen a ghost. “Wren?” I said, starting to get worried, and when I touched her shoulder, she jumped.
“Oh,” she muttered, staring at me like she’d forgotten I was there.
“Are you okay?” I repeated, not sure what to make of her expression.
“Yes,” she answered, stumbling away from the bed and back toward the door. “I’m fine.” It was her turn to throw the words back at me and I had the impression they were just as false for her as they had been for me.
“You wanted to ask me about Dylan?” I questioned as she opened the door. She shook her head, forcing a smile.
“It was nothing.”
“Okay,” I replied, puzzled, but not willing to push the issue as she slipped out the door. “That was weird,” I muttered to myself as I dropped back onto the bed. I glanced at the picture once again, but the four faces smiling up at me soured my stomach further. I folded the picture so my mother didn’t show and went to the mirror above my dresser, putting the photo back where it belonged.
I knew I’d have to deal with her eventually, but it wasn’t going to be today, I decided, as I gathered a pair of pajamas. I’d started wearing a pajama set instead of a night shirt since Dom had taken up residence. I checked to make sure I had water by my bed and went to take a shower.
The hot water helped to relax me and as I tugged a brush through my hair I wondered what it was about the picture that had startled Wren. I figured it had to have been the photo because there hadn’t been anything else. Maybe it was the image of our family, back when we’d still been a family, which bothered her. I hadn’t missed the lingering glances between her and my Dad, and I didn’t mind. I wanted him to be happy. They both deserved happiness, which made my mother’s sudden reappearance even less welcome. If there was a way for her to screw my dad over, she’d find it.
I went to the bed, my mind reaching for the bond link by habit as I pulled the quilt back on the bed. The quick brush reassured me and I reached for my water, grimacing at the flat, warm taste of it. I settled under the quilt, wishing Dom was here. Considering everything that had happened that day, I was positive I wouldn’t be able to sleep until he laid down next to me. My breathing slowed as my eyes grew heavy, but something nagged at me as I stared across the room. My last thought as sleep pulled me under was that the picture was gone.
