Golden (Book 1 of the Golden Series)

Chapter 62

Realising that all the splinters are out of his hand, I stand up, dropping them into the bin as I grab a dark hand towel to clean his skin. I wait for the water to turn warm before I run it underneath, letting it soak up.

How was it that I felt so safe around someone who I know could rip me apart without a moments notice? It wasn't because I wasn't afraid of werewolves and this entire supernatural world that I'd fallen into, but because under all of it he was still just a man.

And he was a good man. Far better than any that had already been in my life.

I sit back down beside him and lift his hand onto my lap, cautiously wiping away the blood as I prepare to assess the cuts left behind.

When I take the towel away, however, there are only faint scratches - the only indication that anything ever even happened.

I chuckle under my breath.

So, there's my answer to how quickly they can heal.

When I look back up I jump slightly upon seeing Trent's eyes watching me. Gone was the blank expression and now it mirrored my own - amusement at my expense.

"I didn't think it was that quick," I explain, a little embarrassed as I drop his hand. "Still getting used to this werewolf thing."

"Well, it has been a hell of a day for it."

It takes me a second to realise that Trent is actually speaking and not only that but making a joke and I can't stop my smile from widening.

"Yeah," I agree quietly, "That's true."

We're silent for a minute while I fold the towel aimlessly, the sound of the fan above us the only noise.

He waits for me to speak, to ask.

"You told me that it was reckless for me to step in front of you earlier," I start, the golf ball in my throat staying lodged for the time being, "and now I know it's because you thought you'd hurt me like you hurt Lou?"

When I look back at him, there's no sign of panic or anger on his features, just pure acceptance, like he already knew what I was going to say.

"Yes."

His answer is short and barely a whisper but I hear it, a confirmation that settles the worries I have about asking the burning question that's fighting to jump off my tongue.

"Then why?" I ask. "Why did you stop?"

The corner of Trent's mouth curves into a smile, the glow in his eyes only building as he gazes at me, unwavering.

"Do you know that day in English class, before we were sat together? You turned and looked at me from your seat because you felt me staring?" I nod, remembering the way I had blushed. "You grinned at me and that was the first moment in my life that my wolf and I agreed on something - that you were utterly perfect."

Oh sweet Jesus, was he trying to make me melt?

"When I'd met you outside I was so confused because of Matt and the way you were with me, that I thought I might be wrong. That you weren't my mate and I just thought you were beautiful, but when you looked at me that time and I saw the way your cheeks coloured and your breath hitched, God Elle," he shakes his head slightly, clearing his throat. "If you'd have asked me to I would have died for you right there. No questions asked."

He shrugs, his own fingers tracing the lines on his palm.

"That's when I knew for sure that you were everything I could have ever dreamed of - and more. For the first time in my life, I wasn't trying to hold back my wolf or my own thoughts, they merged as one and that thought was you. Completely and utterly - you."