Page 58 of House of Crimson Cloak and Silver Teeth

He smiles and it’s beautiful in the moonlight. “Thank you.”

What the fuck for?

I turn onto my side, facing away from him. It’s easier this way and less tempting. Behind me, Garrett shifts closer. I feel the warmth of him through both our shirts. Before I can protest or pull away, he presses against my back and wraps an arm around my waist.

I go absolutely still.

“What are you doing?” My voice comes out strangled.

“Keeping warm. Told you I was cold.” His breath is warm against the back of my neck. “Is this alright?”

No. Yes. I don’t fucking know.

My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure he can feel it. Every nerve in my body is screaming alert, danger, too close. But underneath that, something else. Something that feels almost like... safety.

“Wolf?” His voice is quieter now, uncertain. “If it bothers you, I can move.”

“No.” The word comes out too fast.

“This is fine,” I say, forcing my voice level.

He relaxes against me. I feel some of the tension drain from his body. We lie in bed with neither of us moving. I’m acutely aware of every point of contact. His chest against my back. His arm around my waist. His knees tucked behind mine. His breath on my neck.

Garrett’s body heat seeps into my back. He smells good, like sandalwood mixed with that fancy soap Kitty would spend half a month’s pay on.

“I’ll kill them.” His voice cuts through the darkness, quiet and deadly. “Whoever did this to your leg. I swear it.”

The vow catches me off guard. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

He laughs softly against my back. “Everyone deserves someone willing to fight for them.”

His persistence should annoy me instead it makes warmth bloom.

Garrett’s breathing evens out completely and I know he’s asleep. I try very hard not to notice how right this feels. How the sound of his breathing makes this tiny room feel almost like home. His arm stays wrapped around my waist, resting there like it belongs.

Maybe it does.

That’s a dangerous thought. Dangerous and completely foolish. But I let myself think it anyway. My eyes start to drift closed despite my best efforts. The exhaustion I’ve been fighting for days finally catches up with me, dragging me down into darkness. Garrett’s arm tightens slightly around my waist in his sleep, anchoring me. I hear him murmur something too quiet to make out.

The last thing I’m aware of before sleep finally claims me is the warmth of his body against mine and the strange, terrifying, wonderful feeling of not being alone.

Chapter Eight

Morning light and the scent of baking bread pull me from sleep. For one confused moment, I don’t know where the hell I am. Then I remember.

The village. The inn. The bed.

Garrett.

He’s still pressed against my back with his arm around my waist, breathing soft in sleep. We’ve shifted during the night. My hand has somehow found his where it rests on my stomach, fingers loosely intertwined.

I should move and extract myself before he wakes and this becomes awkward. But I keep listening to him breathe, feeling more rested than I have in years. I slept through the entire night. For the first time in a long time, I fell asleep without watching for the knife.

And nothing bad happened.

The moment stretches. Perfect and peaceful.

Garrett stirs and makes a soft sound. His arm tightens briefly before he seems to realize what he’s doing. I feel him freeze, feel the moment he becomes fully awake and aware of our position.