Turning Point ✓

18 | long haul

*

Adele slept for hours. With no-one to kick her, no-one to tug the blankets and leave her to freeze, she slept as though she hadn't closed her eyes for a week, hardly moving a muscle when she was too tired even to shuffle unconsciously. The room was the perfect temperature, the heat conducive to a full night's sleep, and her head felt clear when she awoke.

She rose at the same time as Ainslie, their doors opening in perfect synchronisation, and Ainslie's mouth formed an O of surprise that matched her wide eyes when she saw Adele come out of Caleb's room.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Adele, if I'd known you guys were sharing I would've slept in the little bed!" Her hand flew to her mouth, her cheeks going pink.

"We didn't share," Adele said, ducking past Ainslie to fetch her dressing gown from her room and to scuff her socked feet into her slippers. Ordinarily, she couldn't bear to sleep in socks but last night – that morning, rather – she had been too exhausted to care. Her coffee buzz had come crashing down hard, knocking her out for the night, and it was already midday. Midday had been and gone a quarter of an hour ago.

"Adele?" Ainslie called over her shoulder when she got to the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't know you have a dog ... you have a dog?"

Adele glanced over Ainslie's shoulder and laughed when her eyes fell on the white wolf curled up on the armchair, his head and his tail spilling over the arms. "That's Caleb, you idiot. He must've shifted last night. It would've got cold in here."

"Oh. Oh my goodness. I didn't even think," Ainslie said with a laugh, hitting her forehead. "Hi, Caleb. You're so cute! Like a big fluffy dog."

A rumble began in his belly and Adele tutted.

"Don't call him a dog. He doesn't like that," she said, scratching his head as she walked past to fill the kettle. Ainslie perched on the chair, idly stroking Caleb's thick coat, and he nuzzled her arm with his wet nose before he lazily licked her wrist.

"You know," she murmured, "that would be really weird if you did that when you're a person."

"He's thanking you," Adele said. "I need to thank you too, Ains."

"What for?" She looked up, her face the picture of innocence.

"You saved our lives yesterday."

Ainslie frowned. "How? I went to bed way before you!"

"I didn't know about the bunker." Adele tipped homemade coffee grounds into a pan, enough for two mugs, and hot chocolate into the third mug for Ainslie. "If you hadn't found it, God knows what would have happened. Creighton searched the place. You saved Caleb's life, and probably mine too. I owe you one."

Ainslie beamed. "Oh, no you don't," she said, playing with Caleb's ears. He didn't seem to mind at all. She was part of his pack, after all. "You've saved my life a million times. It's about time I gave you a break from being a rescuer."

"I'm serious, Ains." She crouched down to light a fire, dislodging the ashes in the grate to make way for a fresh load of logs. "If Creighton had found Caleb, he would have killed him, and I wouldn't put it past him to have killed me too." It ached her mind to think about yesterday, the way Creighton had treated her as though she had spent her life wronging him, as though she was a burden he wanted shot of.

"Well, he didn't find him," she said, dropping to her knees to wrap her arms around Caleb. Big and soft, he made for a perfect hug as a wolf, even if he couldn't return it. "And he's not going to." She sat with her arm around him, looking up at Adele with her pale doe-eyes. "Kind of hard to believe this big softie's the same guy. You're such a cutiepie!"