Page 129 of My Solemn Vow
“Calibrate.” She huffs. “Is that what we’re calling this?”
The question leads me to believe I’m making a little progress with her. “It’s an adjustment period. You’ll feel a little different for a while, and then it’ll become normal to you.”
Antonella doesn’t comment, but she does swing her gaze around the small space before looking back at me. “I don’t suppose you brought me clothes?”
“Several dozen outfits. New wolves tend to shred.” I nod toward the bags of clothes on the dresser and then, with my spoon, direct her to one of two doors in the cabin. “There’s a bathroom through that door.”
56
ANTONELLA
THE TRUST
Valor, or whoever packed my bag, had at least some idea of the things I liked or disliked. The soft fabric of yoga pants, T-shirts, and bralettes were a welcome sight over something rigid and formal.
It’s soothing to have something comfortable to put on when your insides feel disheveled enough to be a jigsaw puzzle. I’m unsettled, and my brain feels fuzzy.
I cried, and I’m not even certain I know the whole reason behind my tears, but everything feels so heavy. I couldn’t hold it in. Valor doesn’t deserve to see me weak, but I couldn’t stop it if I tried.
I don’t know how to act or how to behave. A little voice inside me saysFuck him, fuck this, fuck it all.A louder voice saysHe’s ours and he sees that now.
The shower in the small bathroom is in a clawfoot tub. I debate trying to clean up, at least the parts of me that can be scrubbed anyway. Instead, I dress and run my fingers through my hair until it lies moderately flat. Then I wrap it up into a small bun using the hair tie I found in the bag.
Valor is where I left him when I leave thebathroom.
The louder voice that I keep hearing, my wolf I guess, sighs.Our mate provided for us. He’s made us food again. He loves us.
He must be receiving a similar message from his wolf because Valor looks at me with one of those caring glances that he gives Kerrianne. He sets a bowl, dished up with food that smells delightful, on the counter with a fork tucked in it and cautiously slides it toward me.
I approach, eyeing the offering. It’s egg noodles with a protein, something that doesn’t smell like beef, and gravy poured over the top. Hesitantly, I raise the fork and take a bite. It’s delicious and not in the way all food tastes when you’re starving.
Valor whines and then clears his throat.
He wants us to like his offering.My wolf apparently translates.
I look up to see his eyes trained on me. They’re beautiful. The flicker of gold makes them a little more animalistic but beautiful all the same.
Because I’m petty and immature, I lie. “My wolf said to tell your wolf to fuck off.”
It sounds dishonest even to me, but Valor nods and then laughs, “I bet she does.”
I take my bowl and head toward the bed, feeling too awkward standing at the kitchen counter.
A few steps behind me, Valor follows. He drags over a small stool and sits on it, facing me where I sit on the bed, feet curled underneath me.
After a few seconds, he tries to break the silence. “Do you want to see a picture of your wolf?”
I still the fork midway to my mouth. “How long have I been out?”
“Well, out is a . . . not quite the right word.” He stumbles over that. “It was four days ago I turned you. It’s been four days since you were in human shape.”
I lower my bowl from chest height to my lap, scrutinizing him. “What have I been doing for four days?”
“Well, the first one you slept. Your body was healing, and the next two, your wolf was busy trying to exact revenge on your behalf.” He gets up and pulls his phone from his pocket before unlocking it and setting it on the bed next to me. “But when she was too tired to try and maul me to death, she let me grab some pictures.”
I hesitate at first and then pick up his phone. There’s a stunning gray wolf with warm eyes and sometimes a bloody snout. I flip through a few, forward and backward, looking again and again. Using two fingers, I zoom in and out on the photos, flicking between the nearly two or three dozen he took.
That’s us.My wolf encourages me to recognize the wolf as me. But I don’t remember anything about these photos being taken. I have no attachment beyond what the voice in my head is telling me is real.
