Waking, the heat radiating from behind Ashlynn was familiar and comforting. Something she'd grown used to, all that time ago, but felt strange now like waking to a dream within a dream. Snowy mornings, waking to her cold apartment, in that moment where she tried to shuffle backward in an empty bed, reaching for a heat that wasn't there. This morning, two thick, powerful arms held her as if she would dissipate like a mirage in the light of day. Her bare skin pressed against his, her pale stomach contrasting with his tan, forearm, banded in thick black tattoos.
Stirring, she felt him shift in his sleep, behind her and she turned back in the pale moonlight to study his sleeping face. They were both weathered from the distance, she had put there. Dark purple circles had settled lines into his face. He'd looked a hundred years younger in werewolf years when she'd left him. Her hand traveled the space between them brushing the lines as if she could make them disappear.
Keeping him safe had been the only thing she lived for, but what kind of life had either of them been living. Meanwhile, she had done everything that woman asked. Even lived with her for a brief time, in order to train. The friction had been constant; they had argued incessantly.
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"How are you a relative of mine? All that power in your veins and you can't even cast a simple shield."
"I told you before, I have no interest in what you're offering. You can force me to abandon the man I love, you can even force me to cast, but you can't make me desire this, Grandma," I said, pointedly. Watching her youthful features draw to a glower.
With a snap of her fingers, Ashlynn's body went rigid. Her back arched uncomfortably, her wrists locked, as Blaire studied her. Suspended a mere four inches from the ground.
"Hear me, child. Until the day you surpass me, in skill, you are my pawn. So hate me, if it'll prove an incentive, but the wolf of yours will never be safe, so long as you refuse to become the kind of powerhouse that could rule by his side. After all I didn't know, your mutt was such a powerful alpha."
Ashlynn's gaze narrowed. "Thanks to you, that wolf is someone I can no longer claim as mine."
"Now, now," Blair said, putting her finger under Ashlynn's chin. "Everyone knows, that wolves mate for life."
A moment later, Ashlynn's ass collided with the ground with bruising force.
"Again," Blair commanded, barely giving her time to stand up.
Molten hot anger sank through her bones, as she raised her hands, and cast.
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Drawing back her hand, she pressed her face into his smooth chest, her cheek pressing against him, until his smell dominated her senses, as she wrapped her arms round him in turn. Closing her eyes, she let his presence comfort her. She would keep him safe, because if it meant keeping this moment, keeping this feeling safe. She would give everything to keep this wolf in her arms. To keep this feeling of home from slipping away.
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When Ashlynn woke up, the morning after the vampire attack. It was too the long slow pulsing beat of a heart monitor. Her mouth felt full of cotton balls, as she tried to swallow, but found a tube laced down her throat. She managed a moan, and a nearby orderly popped in to see her discomfort.
"Okay, Baby. Calm down. We're gonna take this out, hang on," the nurse said, kindly.
Minutes later, she'd her bed aligned upright as a nurse ran through the long list of damage she'd suffered. It was more convincing to say she'd dove from the top of a building, then been in a supernatural fight. Broken, cracked ribs. Bruises that ran continents up and down her sides. He'd fractured her femur. The strongest bone in the body. Her pelvis had a hairline fracture. Two broken fingers, and oddly a sprained wrist. She had no right to still be breathing. By anyone's estimations.
But, she'd gotten through surgery. So they'd left her in a protective coma. Trying to keep her body calm enough to heal, and ensure there was no swelling in her brain. Two weeks.
The room was covered in bocques. Fourteen to be exact. One for each day, she'd been asleep. She wondered who'd brought them. Not her parents, surely. But she didn't have to wait long to find out.
An hour later, the man she'd seen from the bar that night, walked in. His head low, as he fidgeted towards her. The man she'd watch, sprout fur.
Her pulse sped, but honestly, the volume of pain meds they had her on, just made her giggly. She wanted to panic, but all that came out was a whining giggle.
Fear filled his gaze. She could tell he assumed she'd finally lost it. It just made her laugh harder, till tears burned her eyelids. "What are you so scared of, puppy? It's not like I bite."
His eyes widened in shock, as she reached up and whipped away tears, tugging the iv in her hand. "I . . ." he looked down.
