Page 62 of (Sur)real
“Will he?” I asked angrily. “Why are we doing this alone? There were werewolves not far from us. You could have called out to them and asked for help as soon as I told you the Urbat were coming.”
“We don’t want to risk more lives,” Winifred said, not looking up from her work.
“But it’s okay to risk mine and Clay’s and everyone else’s in the group? Why are we less important?”
“You’re not less important,” Sam said firmly.
I ignored him.
“If those humans wouldn’t have shown up, we’d all be dead, and everything we have done would be for nothing. Is that how you want this to end? You expose the existence of werewolves and Urbat to the entire world then die and leave the werewolves without a single leader or Elder?”
Winifred’s stitching paused.
“Because that almost happened. We can’t fight this alone, Winifred,” I said. “I know you heard Olivia say the same things Bethi’s been saying. The world will burn, and humans and werewolves alike will all die anyway if we fail. Who are you really protecting?”
Clay squeezed my hand, and I felt his worry and love brush my mind. He didn’t like it when I talked back to the Elders. Whether they liked what I had to say or not, though, they needed to hear my words.
“How did you know how to call those humans to come to our aid?” Winifred asked when she resumed her stitching.
My frustration boiled. Instead of addressing the real issue, why she didn’t call all the werewolves, she wanted to focus on that?
“I didn’t know. It just happened. I was desperate.” The scene played again in my mind, and I looked down at Clay’s beautiful, furry face. He watched me closely, his warm brown eyes missing nothing. His fingers squeezed my leg gently.
With the last knot tied off, Winifred straightened with a sigh.
“That’s more stitches than I would have liked to put in. But, given the uncertainty of what might happen next, a few extra will hold it better if you need to move.”
My heart sank at her words. More? I didn’t want any more. I wanted to leave and never look back. I wanted a place where Clay and I could hide from the world and just be us.
“Thank you, Winifred,” Clay said. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will. If you do need anything, either of you, let me know.”
I nodded numbly and watched her leave. Sam gave us a long look and picked up his bag.
“Henry, grab those pizza boxes. These two could use some quiet time.”
The door closed behind them, and Clay and I found ourselves alone for the first time in a very long time.
“What you’re feeling is killing me,” he said softly.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. I am. I’m sorry you’re suffering because of me.”
“Because of? No. We’re a team. We suffer together.” I leaned over him and gently brushed my lips to his. He tilted his head, giving me better access, and I deepened the kiss.
My heart thrummed excitedly, like it did every time he touched me. Only this time, I understood how close I’d come to never being able to kiss him again. To touch him. To make him mine in every way.
Reaching over him, I gently trailed my fingers down his bare, muscled chest. The hair tickled my fingertips. He groaned and lifted his hands to cup my face, turning a heartfelt kiss into a passionate one that curled my toes.
Clay owned me. He’d wormed his way into my life until he’d become such a part of it I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to live without him again. I poured all that feeling, all the desperation, into our kiss. He growled softly, and I knew he understood.
My head spun when I finally pulled away.
“I don’t want to wait any more,” I whispered. “Life is too short to hesitate.”
He groaned and tried to sit up. The effort ended with a grunt and him on his back next to me.
