Head Wolf

Chapter 16

Blenda POV

Arthur’s cloudy eyes threatened to rain. He sank to his knees and reached out his bloodied hand to pat Blenda's matted fur. Her skin tightened under his touch. With every leisurely stroke, her heart pounded faster, and her breaths shortened. Every fibre in her body screamed at her to run, but her paws were rooted on the ground, cold and numb. She never knew how to deal with emotions, and Arthur was a flood in the form of a man. It was hard to stay in control when she was drowning in his pain, in her yearning to comfort him but not knowing how, in what to make of today's happenings, in the reality of her actions that began to sink in. When his eyes met her wide orbits, she shuddered. Arthur came out of his trance and held her head between his hands as his lips stretched into a hollow smile.
“You look like you’re going to pass out.”
You bet, she thought.
“Come with me. You need to rest.”

The heat of his palms left her face as he stood to his full height, causing her to sway on her feet. She shook her head and fell into step with him, but he was far away in a world of his own. A world of memories she never knew, and in which she never existed.

Like strangers, they walked alongside each other. Him, an unapproachable fort with his stiff shoulders and uncharacteristic aloofness. And her, an ocean of questions and confusion and longing, building up into huge waves then crashing against her frozen surface.

Isn’t he a stranger after all? What do I know about him? We only met four days ago, and we spoke for what? Two hours?

Her chest tightened. She jeopardized everyone’s life because she trusted him, because he was her mate. And she left her friends again in the tunnels because of the mate bond.
This is not me.

Inside the tower, Blenda paced, lost in a vicious circle of confusion and frustration. She no longer knew if she was angry at him or at herself, if she wanted answers, or if she wanted to be left alone to sort through her feelings.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” The rasp in his voice told her of the lump in his throat and the tears he wouldn’t fight.

Her need to flee pricked her skin. If only she could get back home, to her mundane life where everything made sense, and where the only blood that ever coated her fur was of a goat or a deer.

Arthur's arms circled her midsection and lifted her to his strong chest. She flinched at the contact but didn’t fight him. He carried her up the stairs, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His dump cheek brushed against her face, and she whined.
God help me. How do I know him this well?

He placed her under the shower and pushed the door shut with his foot. The stream of warm water came down on her while she chased his eyes with hers but failed to capture them. He crouched in front of her and sunk his fingers into her fur. His face was millimetres away from hers. Her coat soaked with water, adding to the weight on her shoulders. The smell of his shampoo reminded her of the hint of peppermint she smelled on him when they hugged. On instinct, her forehead leaned against his, and she closed her eyes. Arthur's hands stopped for a second, then proceeded lathering her in slow circular motions. Taking a deep breath, he broke the contact. Blenda’s eyes flew open to find him looking up, blinking back his tears, but they kept rolling over the stubble shadowing his face.

This is not right.

Blenda threw her paws over Arthur’s shoulders and attacked his face with kisses. Her long, smooth tongue licked his tears. He ducked to protect his face, but fell back against the door. Blenda didn’t stop. She pushed her snout between his crossed forearms and licked whatever she reached: His ear, his chin, his cheek… anything, until she heard the sound she was looking for. Arthur’s heartfelt laughter filled the small space. Blenda sat back and tilted her head to the side with a wolfish smile on her face.