Within you I found home

thirty three

        "YOU ALREADY KNOW," YOU SAID TIREDLY.

        Was there any point in repeating it? He didn't want to know your version – he wanted to know the version Aerilyn had told him.

        "Tell. Me." He gritted out, gaze cutting to yours. He looked as exhausted as you felt. Stressed. Lost, almost—but his eyes gave him away. No matter how furious he appeared, you could still see your Nico underneath it all.

        "Jessa came to me on the twenty-sixth day of the eleventh month. Said she found a pup in the woods." You were pleased to find her name didn't hurt as much as before. . .and that made you feel fucking awful. Like healing from her death was a betrayal of your friendship. "He was curled up in the base of a tree. It was raining. He was cold. Breathing too slow. I didn't think he'd make it. . .and had he been a regular wolf, he probably wouldn't have."

       Your voice lacked emotion, which upsets you. It was a night which changed your life for the better. You treasured it. But having to speak of it that way—to someone who was picking it apart and analysing every word in search of a lie—left a bad taste in your mouth, and you resented Nico for tarnishing such a cherished memory. The beginning of your and Mith's story.

        "That's not possible." Nico's jaw ticked, eyes hardening. "That's the same night we lost him. Aerilyn was at least two days' travel from where you claim to have found him."

        You bit out. "Then, maybe, you should be asking her why she lied."

        Nico stood abruptly, the force of it sent the chair sliding backwards with a screech. He crowded you, eyes levelled with yours as his hands cupped the arms of your chair.

        "I have already spoken with her. Again and again. And Again. What do you think I've been doing for the past two days?" he growled. "I've picked apart her story more times than I can count. I probably know the events better than she does now. There are no hiccups. No changes. No inconsistencies. She's telling the fucking truth."

        Your throat tightened to the point of pain and tears of frustration formed behind your nose.

        "So am I, Nico!" you didn't mean to shout those words at him, but you did, your anguish getting the better of you. You lowered your voice and said it again, softer this time. "So am I."

        His eyes searched yours, lips pressed tightly together. A harsh breath left him, knuckles turning white on the arms of your chair.

        "Baby," he whispered, voice tight. Pained. "This isn't looking good for you." He swallowed before pleading, "Give me something to work with here. I can't help you if you don't."

        Your heart fluttered, and while his sudden lack of anger confused you, it wasn't unwelcome. It gave you hope.

        "Nico, please." You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. "I – I didn't do this. I don't know why she recognises me and I don't know how to make you believe me." You sniffed, a hiccup in your words. "I'm so fucking scared."

        For a moment, Nico pressed himself into you further. A harsh knocking of heads. Your noses brushed and kiss me fluttered through your mind, because if he kissed you, then maybe everything would be okay.

        Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and growled, "Stop. Fucking. Lying. To. Me."

        You run cold. It was not what you expect him to say. You pulled back, eyes wet, your brows pinched, and oh—that expression was back on his face. The furious one. Had that all just been an act? Was he playing you by acting as if he was on your side?