Page 26 of To Keep A Wolf
Nervous, I rub a hand absently over my abdomen, and Levi’s gaze flicks to the motion.
He frowns. “Those herbs are strong. They’re going to make you queasy for a while.”
“What kind of herbs?”
“Aconitum. It works like an antidote to the venom. It binds the toxin in your blood and helps eliminate it quickly.”
I snort. “I’ve got the eliminate part down.”
He offers a weak half-smile. “You’re alive.”
“Barely.”
His smile drops. “Mac.”
He looks like he wants to hug me. Or maybe even kiss me. My memory flashes to the truck bed where he held me close and cushioned me against every bump and dip in the road. My heart cracks as I realize he’s doing the very thing I never did for him. He’s forgiving me.
“I don’t deserve this,” I whisper, my eyes filling with hot tears.
They spill over, streaking down my cheeks, one after the other. Sin after sin. Wrong after wrong. Failure after failure.
Levi softens, and it’s the softness that breaks me.
I let out a sob and then choke another one back. He picks me up, pulling me into his arms until I’m curled into a ball against his hard chest. I ignore the discomfort of my own body and, instead, focus on the comfort of his. He rocks me, soothing and whispering and patting my hair. He doesn’t try to stop me from crying, which is good because there’s no holding it back even if I wanted to.
By the time I can breathe again, his shirt is tear-stained, and my cheeks are flushed. But I’m a bit lighter. Able to breathe again.
I also have no more excuses.
Slowly, I pick my head up off his shoulder and meet his eyes. My cheeks burn with shame as I force the words up and out of my throat.
“Levi, I’m so sorry.”
Saying it out loud brings the threat of more tears still.
“No apology necessary,” he says.
His response brings me up short, and I blink up at him.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says.
“I rejected you,” I say, confused and determined to convince him how horrible I’ve been. “And didn’t tell you what was coming. The deal I made—”
“You saved me,” he says, cutting me off. “You did what no one else could. You stopped Kari and saved my life. And you did it without unnecessary bloodshed between the packs. I owe you my life, Mac.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I say, but my argument feels weaker now.
He smiles. “Are we fighting about whether we should be fighting? Because there’s a certain irony in this moment, and I just want to point out that I didn’t start it. For once.”
I swat his arm, and he grins.
“You’re impossible,” I tell him.
“It does feel impossible,” he says quietly. His smile drops away, but his eyes still sparkle with something. “You and me. Here. Back in this van.”
Butterflies dance and dip in my stomach as I think of the last time we were here.
“It’s like we get a do-over,” he says.
