I’ve given him nothing and he risked his life for me. Nash was incredible. No, I didn’t watch the fighting, but I heard enough to know he took on all those wolves without backup.
He was fierce and powerful and strong.
And he doesn’t want me.
I sit on the rock and feel sorry for myself until I suddenly feel his warm body next to me. I peek over and see him sitting on the rock by me. He scoots over until our sides are touching, then he rests his chin on my head. Nash wraps his arms around me and I melt into him.
That kiss.
The way we kissed was so perfect.
I want more.
I don’t know why he’s holding me, but I don’t want to move. I just want more of him, all of him.
“You don’t want me,” I whisper. I instantly regret saying the words. They sound so needy, so whiny, but they’re true. He pushed me away. He didn’t want me.
“I want you,” he says, but I don’t know what to believe. “But you’ve had a long day, baby. I don’t want to take advantage of the state you’re in.”
“I’m not in any kind of state,” I protest, but I know he’s right. My heart has been broken and pieced back together all day, all week. And the truth is that I don’t know if I can hold myself together much longer. I’m missing everything. Everything I valued, everything that was a part of me is gone now.
Grandmother is gone now.
I’m never going to see her again.
And I almost died. I almost vanished. I was almost horribly raped and tortured and hurt.
And Nash saved me.
I’ve been crying for awhile when I finally notice the tears streaming down my cheeks. Just as quickly as they appear, Nash kisses them away. His mouth is soft on my skin. His hands play gently with my hair as he kisses away each bit of pain I’m feeling, each little hurt, each part of my mind and my heart that’s been broken beyond repair.
When I stop crying, he picks me up and carries me home. Then Nash, my sweet, wolfish roommate, puts me to pet with a kiss on the forehead.
“Things will look better tomorrow,” he promises.
But I’m not so sure.
12.
Red
I wake up and stretch, wondering why I feel so sore. Then it all comes back to me.
Yesterday I was almost murdered.
I hop out of bed and find Nash standing naked on the front porch.
“Don’t you ever wear clothes?” I ask, joining him. I’m naked, too, but I don’t mind. He’s seen me naked plenty of times. It’s nothing new.
It’s too early for me, but I’m wide awake. Birds are chirping and the forest is full of noises and sounds.
“Why would I do a silly thing like that?” Nash raises an eyebrow, turning his attention to me.
“Modesty?” I shrug.
He just laughs. Grams told me once that shifters are notorious for being unaware of their own nudity. They have to be. When they learn to shift as teenagers, they often struggle to control their shifts. This results in a lot of ruined clothes and a lot of embarrassing situations. By normalizing nudity, no one is embarrassed when someone has a mishap.
I always kind of thought it was just a story, but it makes sense to me now. I wish the human world were like that, too.