Saint wrapping himself around me feels like a soft, heat-generating cloud. His scent is familiar and comforting. The only thing that would be better would be Bronx and my limbs entangled.

 

The morning light intrudes in the room and crawls across my face. | stretch sleepily and find that | have a stiff neck and a chill around me. Saint must have adjusted positions at some point in the night because his fur cocoon is not forming a barrier of warmth around me. | tug on my blanket to cover myself better but it doesn't budge.

 

“Saint, you have a fur coat, stop hogging the blanket," | groan. ’

 

A pair of strong arms creates a cage around me, as if by instinct, and pulls me close to a hard chest. The familiar light snoring of Bronx against my ear sets my heart alight. "Bronx?" | whisper disbelief. | roll over in his arms so I'm facing him. His breath hitches a little but he continues the slow rhythmic breathing of sleep. | don't know when he shifted, but he is naked under the blanket. Could he have shifted in his sleep and not realize it or did he shift and crawl back onto the cot with me?

 

Something about him seems different. | gently caress the scruff on his chin and give his jaw a gentle kiss. | look closer at his features. Even in a relaxed state of sleep, he seems like a weight has been lifted off of him. The furrow of his brow is slightly lessened, making him look a bit younger. “See something you like?" he smirks with his eye still closed.

 

“Bronx, oh my Goddess," | burst into tears. | can't help it. The stress of the events from yesterday and last night are released all at once now that I'm in his arms.

 

“Baby, no, please don't cry," he opens his eye and sits up, pulling me into his lap to comfort me.

 

“You left, | needed you," | sob as he wipes my tears and rocks me in his arms.

 

“Shhh. I'm sorry, Kas. | was an asshole in so many ways yesterday. I'm so, so sorry. | should have been there. | shouldn't have walked away. | was wrong. | hope you can forgive me," he says as he pushes my hair out of my face. He puts his hand on one side of my face and kisses my temple on the other side.

 

look away and he is gone again? | can’t let that happen, “Then we can go upstairs and talk where it's a little more comfortable.” “Alright, but | don't want to let you go right now. Give me a minute," he says as he pulls me tightly against his body and deeply breathes into my hair. | have to fight

 

back, the doctor is checking Bronx's vitals and says he can be discharged. | hand him his clothes and step out into the hall with

 

what triggered his condition yesterday,” he says with concern in his voice. “| understand, doctor. Thank you," | say

 

he asks. His face is full of curiosity and

 

| did,” |

 

amazing. If it is ever convenient, | would

 

sure the opportunity will arise at

 

smiles

 

moving around, the air of appearing to have an invisible weight

 

sofa, Baby. | just want to get some water.”

 

what Delilah said. | sigh at the thought of having to hold any information back from my mate, but | understand why she wants to speak to

 

kisses them. Bronx proceeds to tell me about how scared he was when | wouldn't snap out of my vision and how hot my hands got. He told me how worried he was about the people standing in the hall

 

Not just 0n the surface but deeper. A look of concern comes over his face when he describes his sudden shift, and how he wasn't able

 

to communicate with me. Like our connection is three quarters complete," Bronx explains. When I'm sure he's done, | reply to him, "Well, | know someone who is getting pretty good at healing

 

me, "I already discussed this with the doctor. I'm going to try to see if the wolf therapist can help him first. If he doesn't have any luck, then you can root around in my brain. Now it's your turn. Spill. What was

| remember them very well, ‘Saint killed me.’ | sigh deeply and avert my eyes, “I, um, Delilah asked me not to discuss it with you until she is able to speak with Lady Camille t0 try to find a way to stop it. And | think it is a good plan, Bronx. It's not that | don't want to tell you, its that it doesn't make sense to tell

 

Kas, th-the way you flinched when | tried

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