Page 26 of Cold Moon

I had to bite back a smile at Linden’s super lack of subtlety. Because no one who was owed money turned around and paid that kind of rent for someone in their debt. I hoped Dante had no idea how much rent could be, and followed along.

But we were there. Darn it.

“Do you, um, want to watch some TV or something? Just for a while?” I asked, hopefully. “I’m a little wound up, and I could use a chance to relax.” It was diplomatic of me, I thought, to refrain from saying that I was wound up from what had happened to Dante’s clothes and not the run, but I managed.

He gave a little wolfy nod and led me to the front door, nudging the mat aside with his nose to reveal a key. He took me inside, to the living area. Then he slunk behind the couch and shifted, hiding the lower half of his body behind it. “There’s some food in the fridge if you want. I’m, uh, gonna go put some clothes on. Be right back.”

I poured us both glasses of water from the tap, pulled the carrot sticks out of the fridge, and got back in time to find him coming out of the bedroom in sweats and a shirt.

He gave that adorable shy smile and motioned to the television. “I don’t really know anything about it. I mean, what’s good or anything.”

I grinned. “Well then, you’re in luck, because I am an expert on useless late-night television.”

15

Dante

The late-night talk show hosts were pretty funny, the laughing audience making it seem like Skye and I weren’t alone in my apartment. But we were, and I couldn’t help feeling like I was taking advantage of his kindness, stepping out of line with what his pack would allow.

Skye wouldn’t be there if my clothes hadn’t been ruined. It wasn’t the end of days or anything, but those were new clothes I’d bought over the weekend, and I hadn’t bought many. I’d worn them to try and make a good impression with Ridge. Now, Skye felt like he needed to keep an eye on me or, what? Some hopped-up Grove alpha would come looking for trouble?

I wanted to tell him I could handle it, that it was just those alphas’ illogical impulses pushing them to protect their pack, and I couldn’t even blame them for it.

Truth was, I didn’t know if I could handle it if the Grove pack decided to turn on me. I didn’t think Alpha Grove would run me out himself, but if every other alpha in the pack wanted me gone, I didn’t think he had any reason to advocate for me to stay.

I wasn’t even sure why I’d want to, except that I had nowhere else to go, and when Skye and I sat on the couch, he pressed against my arm, all warm and firm.

I’d seen swathes of his pale skin that night, even though he’d seemed shy about it. It looked delicate, like he might bruise easy, but it was creamy white and glowed in the moonlight. His eyes as a wolf were every bit as bright as they were when gleaming behind his glasses.

When I thought about leaving him, my wolf whined, scratching at the walls I’d built around it to try and keep the beast under control while the rest of my pack spiraled. But in this one thing, the wolf wasn’t wrong. I didn’t want to leave Skye Johnson behind.

Didn’t want to take him from his pack either.

For a while, we munched on carrot sticks. The water was cool and refreshing, easing the heat of shame that’d built in my chest at having my things ruined—then at not standing up for myself after it happened. It’d always been dangerous to stand against my father, against any alpha, but that didn’t stop the swell of disappointment that I hadn’t done more.

After a while of sitting in silence, pressed against each other, I lifted my arm and draped it across the back of the couch. That was all it took for Skye to breathe in deep. He leaned over, burrowing into the warm spot under my arm, toeing his shoes off and curling his legs up on the couch.

He fell asleep with his head on my chest, the corner of his glasses pressing into me. There was even a little wet spot on my shirt. The run must’ve really taken it out of him.

For a long time, I sat there quietly, watching television with the volume down low, afraid to move and wake him up, considering my options.

Waking him up and taking him home would mean making him walk on his own two feet. It wasn’t too far to the center of town—a walkable distance—but I wasn’t sure exactly where he lived. While I’d been at the clinic, he’d said something about an apartment above a hardware store, but I wasn’t familiar.

Or I could carry him, but clearly, there were wolves in the Grove pack who didn’t want me around. Walking around late at night, especially when everyone was keyed up from the run, was asking for trouble. I didn’t want him nearby if I had to defend myself. Hell, with the Reid pack decimated, there was a chance Skye’d be safer walking on his own through Grovetown than with me.

There was no way I was sending him out there on his own, and if I didn’t decide what to do soon, we were both going to end up sleeping all night on the couch and regretting it.

But I’d only slept in the bed in the apartment for a couple nights. I wasn’t paying rent, so it stood to reason that the bed—the whole damn place—was as much the pack’s as it was my own. There was no reason Skye couldn’t make use of it in a pinch.

Gently, I eased out from under Skye, ignoring his soft protest. Normally, it would have been easy to do, because when I slipped my arm under his knees, the other curved around his back to support him, his head rolled against my chest and his nose tickled my neck, but my stitches had pulled in the shift. The muscles in my shoulder were still knitting back together.

But Skye was light and I managed.

The light in the bedroom was off, but with wolf eyes, I didn’t bother turning it on. There wasn’t much in the room to trip over—my clothes all in the drawers of a dresser, the little nightstand, and the bed itself. I pulled back the bedding and set him down carefully.

“Whaddaya doing?” Skye asked, turning his cheek into the pillow even as I pulled the blankets up over him. I slipped his glasses off and put them on the table beside the bed.

I smiled at his fuzzy dark hair spread across my white pillowcase, his sly pink tongue darting out to lick the corner of his mouth.

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