Page 46 of His Claim
I dragged my gaze away, cheeks burning, though no one was here to see me.
“This is all fucking crazy,” I whispered to myself, shaking my head. My whole life had been upended in a matter of days. I was a wolf shifter now. I had a mate. I had blood on my hands and still, somehow, I felt safer watching him sleep than I ever had in my life.
I leaned back against the cold wall, my knife across my knees, my eyes never leaving him for long. The cavern was quiet, the world outside forgotten for a few hours and even though everything was chaos, even though tomorrow might bring death,betrayal, or worse, for tonight, I kept watch over the wolf who had claimed me.
I tried to focus on the drip of water from the ceiling, steady and patient. I tried to let my pulse fall into rhythm with Varek’s breathing, slow and even where he rested against the wall, but my mind refused to still.
I thought of the cells. The endless white walls, the smell of bleach, the whispers in the dark. The way every knock at the door had made my stomach twist because I didn’t know if it was my turn to be taken and bred.
And now, here I was. No cage. No guards waiting to drag me away, but I wasn’t exactly free either.
I shifted against the wall, pulling my knees closer. The knife felt clumsy in my hand. I wasn’t a fighter. Not really. But I’d killed someone tonight. I’d torn out another girl’s throat.
My stomach lurched. I pressed a fist against it, forcing the bile back down. I couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not here.
The lantern hissed faintly, the flame dancing.
I didn’t realize my eyes had started to close until a warm hand covered mine.
“Mariah.”
My head snapped up. Varek was awake now, his eyes watching me closely. His voice was soft and still rough from sleep.
“You’ve been awake too long,” he said.
I shook my head, tightening my grip on the knife. “I said I’d keep watch.”
He eased the blade from my hand with practiced fingers, setting it aside. “And you did. Long enough.”
I wanted to protest, but exhaustion pressed down on me all at once, heavy as stone. My eyes burned, my limbs ached, every nerve still raw from shifting.
He stood slowly, his limp more pronounced now. Blood had dried dark down his leg. Still, he moved with certainty, guiding me toward the cot.
“I can sleep on the floor,” I murmured, my voice too small.
“No,” he said simply. He pressed a hand to my shoulder, urging me down. The cot creaked under me, the canvas rough but softer than the stone wall.
He tugged a folded canvas from the supplies and shook it out, draping it over me like a blanket. Then he crouched, adjusting the edges until I was tucked in, his big hands surprisingly careful.
My throat tightened. “You don’t have to?—”
“I know,” he cut in. His warm gaze met mine, softer now, but as cool and collected as ever. “But I want to.”
The words sank into me, unexpected and comforting.
He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. “Sleep, little wolf. I’ll watch now.”
A warm feeling spread through my chest at the sound of that.
Little wolf.
It shouldn’t have meant anything, but it did.
I turned onto my side, pulling the canvas tighter. My eyelids were heavy, my body aching for rest. Still, I forced myself to whisper, “Don’t leave me.”
His hand pressed gently against my shoulder. “Never.”
The steady drip of water from the cavern ceiling was the sound that woke me. For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was. The cot was rough, the canvas scratchy against my skin, the air damp and heavy with coal dust, but then I saw Varek sitting where I had been the night before, knife still balanced across his thigh.
