My heart racing, I back away from the wolf slowly. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “Everything’s okay.” I curse myself for bringing a wild wolf into my home. What was I thinking?
I move toward the center of the living room, distancing myself from the door and the wolf even more. Wildly, my eyes dart around the room as I wonder what I can barricade myself behind if needed. I peek at the wolf to judge his behavior. His teeth are no longer bared, but his hackles are still up.
“What’s the matter? I just want to go for a walk.”
He growls once more, low and menacing.
“You don’t want me to go on a walk?”
He barks and sits. He’s directly in front of the door, barring my way.
“But you let me go earlier to class. Why can’t I go out now?”
He stares at me with those golden eyes but doesn’t say a word. Of course he doesn’t. Of course he can’t. I shake my head and give an exasperated sigh before taking off my coat.
“There. Are you happy?”
He barks once more and dips his head, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he lowers himself so he’s lying in front of the door as if guarding it.
I shake my head. My heart is still beating rapidly and my hands are shaking, but I hang up my coat and the wolf makes no other aggressive moves against me.
“Guess I’ll do my homework since I’m a prisoner in my own house,” I grumble.
The wolf huffs.
After going through one of my textbooks to write some notes on what I was supposed to read in class today, I stretch and look at the time.
“Already so late, huh?”
I look out of the window and see the sun setting. It always sets way too early this time of year. I sigh. Guess I’m going to stay in tonight and spend time with my house guest. I already feel guilty enough for leaving him tomorrow.
Standing, I stretch and decide I’m going to take a shower before preparing dinner. As I head to the bathroom, I ponder what to make. The wolf doesn’t seem to like dog food, which is weird… Maybe it’s because of the sauce on it, but it’s still meat.
My clothes smell like the stables I cleaned earlier, and I shuck them off before turning on the water and getting into the shower. It feels so good against my skin, and I stand there, letting it cascade over me as I think about the wolf.
If I was a sane person, I would have him in a crate outside. No, if I was a sane person, I never would have approached him in the first place! I would have called someone instead.
But I couldn’t walk away, even knowing how dangerous it was. Would I want someone to walk away from me in the same situation?
Plus, the way he has been acting while here has been amazing—until his behavior this afternoon. Thinking about it now, though, it almost seemed like he was trying to protect me…
I almost wish he would stay. It’s nice having a companion to come home to.
Turning off the water, I get out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel before checking up on my guest. As I enter, he lifts his head from the ground. He has moved back into the living room and away from the door.
The golden hue of his eyes darkens as he stares at me, and his gaze drops. Is he looking at… I look down at myself and back at him. Is he looking at my body?
I shake my head and turn to head for the kitchen, not wanting him to see my slightly flushed cheeks. What the hell? He’s just a wolf. Why am I so embarrassed?
There’s some frozen lasagna in the freezer, and I take that out to heat. While the food is in the oven, I head to my bedroom to put on some clothes. I get dizzy and almost trip but shake my head and take a deep breath before heading out again. After getting over the flu last week, I’m tired of being sick.
Once the food’s done, I frown at what I’m going to give a wolf to eat but put the lasagna on two plates and grab a water bottle.
“Here. I assume you would just steal from my plate again so…”
I place his plate in front of him and pour him some water. He looks at me with his soft golden eyes and starts eating. I smile and eat as well.
I find myself unable to tear my eyes away from him as I eat. There’s something about him that has a magnetic pull on me. I try to pinpoint exactly what I’m feeling, but that’s when he looks up at me and stops eating. His snout is covered in tomato sauce.
The sight has me doubled over in laughter, and I get up to grab my phone. “I’m sorry,” I say. “But I have to get a picture of this!” I take a few pictures and he growls and lowers his head as if he’s embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat as I look at the pictures and laugh all over again. “Here, look.” I hold the phone up to the wolf, not really expecting him to gaze at it, but he does. He growls once more, then barks.
“Okay, okay.” I grab a tissue. “Let me help you with that.”
I clean his snout, still chuckling. “I might have to frame that to help me remember you when you’re gone.”
He growls at me, his eyes darkening. I ignore it and look at his now empty plate with a smile.
“I’m so glad you’re eating, though. Really. You had me worried.”
I pet his head and look at his stomach. He follows my gaze and whimpers.
“I know, but we have to take care of it.”
I grab the plates and put them into the kitchen before getting new bandages and returning to him. “Do you need to go outside before we do this?”
His eyes flick to the window, but then he returns his gaze to me. I shake my head. He has definitely been around humans before. He totally understood me.
When he doesn’t make a move toward the door, I sigh. “Okay, then. Let’s get this over with.”
I’m amazed by how well his wound is healing. The redness has lessened and the wound itself has almost closed up. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I had thought.
After I finish, I stay a while in the living room with him, watching a movie while lying on the ground. He rests next to me, and I swear he’s following along. Soon though, my eyes start drooping.
I dream a man takes me in his arms, brushes my hair off my forehead, and kisses me lightly. I can feel his soft lips. Only half awake, I turn over, feeling taut, warm skin beneath me and the sound of someone’s heart beating in my ear. Freezing, I gather my senses before rubbing my eyes while I slowly sit up.
My house guest shifts away from me quickly, and by the time I pry my lids open just seconds later, he’s sitting up with what can only be called a sheepish look on his face.
I study him for a few moments, wondering what he’s guilty of, but I’m too tired to make heads or tails of it. Turning off the TV, I pat my guest’s head before heading off to sleep.
