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Like he did at those other wolves.
And now I’m totally confused, because why would he growl at me the same as he growled at those assholes who tried to hurt me?
Oh.
I nod at him. “Point taken,” I whisper.
I don’t know how he knew I was spiraling, but he very clearly just told me to knock it off and that I was only hurting myself by entertaining such thoughts.
I know he was right. Like, with my brain I know it, even if I stillfeellike I did this to myself.
Like I was asking for it.
He nods his big wolfy head at me and leans away, letting me know he’s about to move. I grab a nearby tree branch for stability and once he’s not supporting my weight, he walks behind me, butting his side into the back of my knees hard enough they give out.
My ass lands comfortably in the middle of his back, and I take the hint, rearranging myself on him like he’s a mini horse and I’m a short, injured Lady Godiva on side saddle.
He takes a few careful steps forward, making sure I’m balanced, and when he’s satisfied, we begin again on our trek toward the compound.
I let myself lean into Drago’s ruffed neck, arms on either side holding loosely.
And I don’t need rocks and twigs to stop my thoughts. My breathing slows and I just exist, breathing in his scent that smells so much like home, and counting the steps of his even gait.
One…
Two…
Three…
Four…
One…
Two…
Three…
Four…
No thoughts, no emotion, it’s just the counting and Drago’s scent.
A familiar voicefilters through my awareness.
“Jesus Christ! Is she OK? Did you carry her all this way?”
Can’t place it. Familiar, but not mine. Who is that? Doesn’t matter.
“Is she OK?” the voice repeats.
Drago moves beneath me, and it seems to satisfy the voice.
“Uh, OK. Go on in, I guess.”
Metal creaking, the front gate of the compound.
One, two, three, four.
One, two, three, four.
