by Susan Bliler
Browning some burger on the stove for the spaghetti he was making for dinner, he was doing math in his head. Between leftovers and the food stores they should be fine for about two weeks. He knew they wouldn’t have to wait that long, though, because War would send the cavalry when Tallius didn’t return. It might take War a week, but he would eventually send someone to look for Tallius. Help would come and Tallius was both happy and disappointed about it. Yeah, Mira needed to see a healer, but he’d really been enjoying his time with her. Taking care of her felt like breathing. It felt natural, it felt . . . right!
Setting the table, he put out salads smothered in ranch and cherry tomatoes, the last of their fresh produce. A basket of baked garlic bread stayed warm under a towel while Tallius covered the spaghetti and waited for Mira to wake.
Tallius was pretty good at approximating when she’d wake. They’d gotten into kind of a rhythm, and every time it drew near the hour he knew she’d stir, he felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. Yeah, Mira did that to him, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.
A moan from the couch had him wiping his hands on the kitchen towel hanging off the oven handle before he crossed to the living room.
Mira’s body arched in an almost stretch that told him she was still sore. Even knowing she wasn’t a hundred percent didn’t keep his eyes from going to where her breasts strained against the thin soft material of her jammie shirt. Wanting her to be comfortable, he dressed her in the PJ set he found in her suitcase. It was a lavender satin number that consisted of silky pants and a . . . what did women call them? He didn’t know, but it looked like a girly version of a muscle shirt but with thin straps and frilly shit across the chest area. A chest area that drew his attention as he greeted, “Morning.”
The hands rubbing at her eyes stilled and then lowered. “Morning? Did I sleep that long?”
“No,” he rushed out, jerking his eyes up to hers. “It’s dinner time, I just . . .”
Pursing her lips at him, Mira griped, “Don’t scare me like that. For a second I thought I was getting worse.”
She made to sit up, but Tallius quickly rounded the couch and stilled her by resting his hands on her shoulders.
“We need to talk.”
He knew the seriousness of his tone startled her because she relaxed back against the couch and blinked up at him expectantly.
“I dug out your suitcase today and hung some of your clothes by the fire to dry. When they were ready, I dressed you.”
Mira glanced down at herself.
“You’re not healing, Mira. The bruising on your back is . . . Fuck, it’s getting worse instead of better.”
Looking back up, she paled at the admission.
“And I can’t scent your wolf,” he continued.
When Mira looked away, he knew.
“She’s gone, isn’t she? You knew? Why didn’t you say something? What’s going on? And I want the truth!”
Mira still wouldn’t look at him, but confessed, “My wolf is claustrophobic. Being buried like we were . . .”
“Fffffuck!” Tallius breathed. “She’s gone into hiding, hasn’t she?”
Sadly, Mira nodded. “She’ll come back. It just takes a while.”
“You need her!” he snapped, and then inhaled sharply to calm himself. Yelling at Mira wasn’t going to help anything.
“If you’re tired of taking care of me . . .”
“I didn’t say that!”
“I can’t force her to come back.”
“I know.” But Tallius buried a frustrated hand in his hair and fisted. “You shoulda told me.”
“Why?” Mira finally looked at him. “There isn’t anything you can do about it. Neither of us can do anything. I have to wait her out. She’ll be back.”
But there was doubt in Mira’s tone that had Tallius’s heart constricting painfully. His wolf had never abandoned him before, but they’d also never suffered such severe trauma that there’d been a need for it. The realization that something so heinous had happened to Mira that her wolf was prone to hiding enraged him something fierce.
“Who did this to you?” He’d meant the question to be casual, but the deep snarl in his tone gave away his fury.
At first, Mira said nothing.
“Tell me,” he demanded. “Who did this to you, Mira?”
Reluctantly, she admitted, “When I was thirteen my Aunty Marnie was coming for a visit. We weren’t FourClaws. Me and Mom and Dad were on our own. Dad was a lone wolf, so we didn’t have the protection of a pack, just him. We lived alone up on the mountain, so when Aunty Marnie called and said she was coming, Mom was so excited.” She smiled sadly. “Her excitement was contagious. Me and Mom baked for days. We cleaned the house and put fresh linens on my bed for Aunty. Dad laughed at us. He called us busy little bees, but he was excited too, I could tell. He cleaned up the yard real nice and planted some flowers lining the walkway. He even built mom a firepit with a bench that wrapped around so her and Aunty Marnie wouldn’t interrupt his TV, he said. Mom was so proud of our house. We were working ourselves to exhaustion every day, but we slept so good at night.” Her smile faded. “We slept too good. They came one night for no reason. We woke to pounding on the door. Mom hid me in the closet. She was vicious in her command for me to not leave the closet under any circumstances, so I didn’t. I listened as her and my father went to war with the other misshapes. Dad died protecting us both, and mom lived two hours before she passed too. When Aunty Marnie finally arrived I was still in the closet.” Heaving a sigh, Mira shook her head. “If she hadn’t have come . . .” Her words died off. “Aunty was married into the FourClaws. She took me back with her, but I never really fit in. Just like I don’t fit with the Fury.” Quietly she whispered, “I don’t fit anywhere.”
“How long?” Tallius growled, and when Mira looked up at him, he saw that she knew what he was asking. Still, he demanded, “How long were you in that closet, Mira?”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“The fuck it doesn’t. How long?”
Silence filled the room before she reluctantly admitted, “Six days.” Her voice broke when she whispered in a tone full of shame, “I hid for six days like a fucking coward. I didn’t even come out when I knew my mom needed me. I could hear her making noise, but I was too afraid. She bled out on the floor, alone, while I hid.”
Tallius watched as grief wrecked her beautiful face. Tears filled her eyes before she blinked and spilled them down her cheeks.
“I stayed in that closet while my mom died, and if I would have had the courage to . . .”
“Don’t say it.” Kneeling beside her, Tallius gathered Mira into his arms and breathed into her hair as her shoulders shook, “Don’t say it. Don’t even think it. Don’t you ever think it again,” he commanded. “You were a kid, Mira. A fucking kid! None of that was your fault. Not the attack, not your dad dying, and not your mom dying either.”
As Mira sobbed in his arms, the scent of her guilt and grief nearly buckled him. And he got it now. He finally understood the true depth of what the WG attacking her FourClaws had done to her. Their attack had dredged up her past and had probably fucked with her wolf. Ever since they’d taken down the FourClaws, he’d felt guilty for that look on Mira’s face as she’d watched him put down her Beta, but now it was overwhelming in its intensity. He’d done more to her than just demolish her pack and show her his monster. He’d traumatized her, and with the strength of a thousand suns he wished he could take it back. He wished more than he’d wished for anything in his life that he could go back and undo what had been done.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed as his arms tightened around her. “I’m sorry for all you’ve had to endure and for all that’s been done to you. I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you. I’m sorry, Mira. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Mira cried harder and had Tallius making promises he had no business making.
“I’m gonna keep you safe,” he vowed. “No one’s ever gonna hu
rt you ever again. Not me, not enemy packs, no one. No one’s gonna touch you. I’ll make sure of it. I promise.”
Turning his head, he planted a kiss on her tear-stained cheek and then held her until Mira’s crying slowed. She was sniffling when the pungent scent of roses drifted up from her and filled his nose. Body tensing, he felt Mira’s do the same.
Pulling back, he cupped her face. Tear-soaked lashes blinked up at him.
“She’s back,” Mira breathed in awe.
Nodding, Tallius used his thumbs to wipe the tears from Mira’s cheeks as he smiled, “I smell her! It’s beautiful!”
Unable to stop himself, he pulled Mira back into his body and hugged her up tight, careful of her bruised back and relieved that her animal had finally come to help.
Chapter 11
Mira didn’t know why she’d admitted her sins to Tallius. A thick film of shame still clung to her from the retelling of the worst of her. Tallius now knew the things about her that she didn’t want anyone else knowing, and yet telling it to him had felt right. Still, it didn’t keep shame from searing her cheeks as she wondered what he really thought of her now.
Chasing a black olive around her plate, she was too afraid to look at him. She didn’t want to see any judgment on his face. Things between them felt different now. She’d cried in his arms and had bared her soul, and whatever she’d expected from him, it hadn’t been his support and understanding. It left her feeling vulnerable and raw, and part of her wished she could take back the admission. She’d shown him just how weak she really was, and it was humiliating. She was a fucking Beta, and her showing him her vulnerability felt like exposing her throat. Weak, weak, fucking weak. At least her she wolf was back. Mira was sure she’d only returned because Tallius had coaxed her out with his hollow promises, but it had worked, and that’s all that mattered.
“You know how I told you I abandoned digging your room out to do mine instead?”
She nodded without looking up.
“It wasn’t for selfish reasons, pretty wolf. Once I uncovered your suitcase, it got my wheels a spinning.”
She still didn’t look at him.
“There’s a tub in my room.”
Mira’s head snapped up, and Tallius smirked.
“Yup,” he popped his lips on the p. “How does a hot bath after dinner sound?”
Without hesitation, Mira beamed, “Heavenly!”
Tallius chuckled. “Good.” Pushing his plate away, he stood jerking his chin at her almost untouched food. “Finish up, I’ll start running water.”
Alone at the table, Mira watched the broad expanse of his back as he stalked toward his room. His muscles pressed into the soft flannel shirt that clung to his wide shoulders and tapered down to a trim waist. Dropping her eyes lower to admire his ass for a moment, she had to force herself to look away. He was a beast of a man. It made sense that he was the WG Beta. They were a legendary pack with the most ruthless and feared Alpha ever. Their Beta would need to be a badass as well, and Tallius certainly fit the bill. His mere presence was massively dominant. It made Mira a little jealous. She’d never have the reputation that he did. She’d never be admired or feared the way he was, but that wasn’t what made her envious. No, what had her almost resentful was the fact that a man like Tallius probably never knew fear. Cemented the way he was in the WG, she knew he’d earned his spot, which meant he was battle born. Nothing would be handed to a man like Tallius, and nothing could scare a man like him either. It sucked because Mira was scared all the time. She hated it. She hated feeling like she didn’t fit in. It felt like she was always waiting for the other shoe to drop and made her unsteady. She tried to hide it as best she could, but she knew Aydin felt it too. He kept telling her that because their pack was newly formed, it’d take a minute to get settled, but she knew the truth. She’d never find her feet with the Fury just like she hadn’t with the FourClaws. Mira didn’t fit anywhere. She was destined to be a lone wolf, just like her father had been.
She didn’t know how long she’d sat there thinking, but it had to be a while because she blinked and then Tallius was towering over her with a frown on his face.
“You didn’t eat.”
Glancing at her plate, she struggled for an excuse. She was hungry, but dredging up the past had slaughtered her appetite.
“Maybe after a bath I’ll be hungry.”
Tallius’s nostrils flared, but if he scented the lie he said nothing. Bending, he scooped her up and carried her to his room.
“I can manage.”
“You haven’t been on your feet in days. I got you.”
Something about those last three words, though, had trepidation seeping into her like the dark stains of a toppled inkwell. She tensed in his arms, and Tallius must have noticed because he stopped just outside of his room and glanced down at her.
Angling her chin away, Mira stared into his room as she concentrated on throwing up walls. She’d revealed too much to Tallius tonight. She’d bared her soul and then spent the whole time he’d been running her bath thinking about how she would never fit anywhere. This cabin was doing weird shit to her because all of tonight had been out of character and left her feeling unbalanced.
“Mira?”
His voice drifted over her like a warm blanket, and she realized she was growing too comfortable around him. She was getting too used to letting him care for her; she was starting to see him differently. Yeah, she’d always thought he was handsome in that powerful, aggressive way of his, but now she was noticing other things too. He was patient and careful when he needed to be, but he was also strong and unyielding in an almost clumsy way that told her that sometimes even he didn’t know his own strength. Thinking of him differently had her seeing him differently. Before he’d just been merely handsome, but now, now she had difficulty keeping her eyes off him, and it was a mistake. Once healed, she’d be back at the Fury battling up-and-comers who didn’t agree with a female being Beta. She’d have to fight, most likely for the rest of her life, if she wanted to retain her place in her pack. Going all doe-eyed and feminine here wouldn’t help her there.
Still not looking at him, she ordered, “After my bath, I think it’d be best if we don’t touch again.” Swallowing thickly, she forced out, “Once your scent is off me, I’d like to keep it that way.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Tallius’s nostrils flare an instant before she scented the rage emanating from him. He was pissed. Good. They were enemies after all and it was high time that they both started acting like it.
Half expecting Tallius to argue, Mira was surprised when an explosive sigh left him. Some of the tension left his rigid frame with the action as he clipped out, “Fine,” and carried her through his room and into the bathroom.
***
Tallius knew what Mira was doing. She was trying to go all hard, to reset boundaries. She was throwing up those goddamn walls he’d worked so hard to knock down. He wanted to rage against it, but he wouldn’t. He’d give her this, for now, but only because he was still reeling with self-loathing at the realization of what their attack on her pack must have done to her. He hated himself right now. No, hate was too soft a word. He was so fucking disgusted with himself that it was shredding his insides with an intensity that had his stomach clenching. Regardless of what Mira thought of him, Tallius was a protector. His wolf was too, and knowing they’d contributed even an ounce of the horror he’d scented on her had his gut twisting so badly that he wanted to puke. He saw himself as a hero, but Mira saw him as a nightmare . . . her nightmare, and now Tallius felt doubt rising up inside him. He didn’t know if there was any coming back from this. He didn’t know if Mira would ever to be able to see him the way he wanted her to.
Settling her on the lid of the toilet, he stood to his full height and thought he hid his wince, but Mira must have seen it.
“What’s wrong?” she snapped, eyes zipping up and down his frame.
“Nothing.” He reached for a towel from the cabi
net over her shoulder, but Mira caught his wrist.
“Are you hurt? Where? How bad?”
Hard eyes landing on her hand, he growled, “You said no touching.”
She released him and he instantly regretted it.
“Why didn’t you say something?” she snapped. “You should have told me that you’re hurt.”
“I’m not hurt.” He jerked a towel out and set it on the sink. Turning to face her, he eyed the blanket wrapped around her. “You need help undressing?”
“No!” she bit out immediately, but when he turned to leave, she barked, “And don’t change the subject.”
Near the door, Tallius bristled. “I ain’t hurt, woman. Now take your damn bath. Wouldn’t want my stench polluting your delicate sensibilities longer than necessary.” He slammed the door behind him as he left. In the hall he felt guilt bite hard. Mira deserved her space, and she’d sure as hell earned every ounce of her mistrust. Yeah, he was mad, but he was mad at himself.
Chapter 12
Nestled up to her shoulders in a tub of steaming water topped with foamy bubbles, Mira was trying hard to enjoy the experience. It was hard. She felt guilty for telling Tallius she wanted his scent off her. She felt bad for being mean after he’d saved her and then taken care of her. Mostly, she felt embarrassed for dumping fourteen years’ worth of trauma at his feet. Not only was it not his fault what had happened to her when she was thirteen, but it was also none of his goddamn business. Still, she’d laid it all at his feet, and now, sitting in the tub, she wondered why. Had she been hoping to scare him off? Maybe if he saw just how fucked up she was, maybe if she dropped her defenses, he’d see what she was hiding behind the curtain and run. But he hadn’t run. He’d held her and consoled her with a tenderness that had Mira lifting dripping hands to cover her face.
God, I’m a fucking mess!
A knock at the door had her dropping her hands and covering her boobs.
“You alright in there?”
“Yeah,” she called. “Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”