Chapter 51

Aurora’s POV

“No, please,” I beg the shadowy figure.

“It’s time to die,” the unknown man growls. His hands grip me by the shoulders as he shoves me closer to the balcony’s edge. My back hits the railing, and my feet come off the ground.

I try to scream for Thorne, but my voice doesn’t work. I claw at the man, my hands moving right through his shadow form.

“No one can save you now.”

I scream as my body tumbles backward. Air rushes around me, the ground racing toward me until… bam!

I bolt upright, gasping for air and whipping my head around to find the shadow man. He’s no where in sight and neither is the balcony. In fact, I’m laying in a large, soft bed and I’m not splattered on the grass beneath the balcony.

The soft light from the bathroom illuminates the room, and when I reach back, there’s nothing there. The sheets behind me are cold, meaning he left a while ago. Thorne left even after he told me that he would stay.

Turning over, I search the dark room for a sign of him, my eyes glancing over a large lump that’s in front of the door. I squint, trying to see through the darkness, and as my eyes adjust to the minimal light, I gasp.

The white furry mound is curled up in front of the door, laying between me and the exit. I’m trapped again, but this time, the creature blocking my exit is much larger and more dangerous than snakes.

I don’t move.

The wolf doesn’t either, though. He lays there, with his massive head resting on his paws and his eyes closed. It’s breathing softly, like it’s asleep, so that’s good. I don’t want to call out for Thorne, but I do look around again. Maybe he went to the bathroom.

Then, I remember the bathroom door is open.

When I turn back to look at the wolf, I realize he isn’t asleep anymore. Bright gold eyes glow in the darkness, and after a moment, the wolf lifts its head to look at me. Something about that golden gaze is familiar. I stare at the wolf, not moving in case he doesn’t like that.

Now that I think about it, the wolf itself looks familiar. Not just the eyes. Am I… a brief flicker of a memory comes to mind, and I remember Thorne’s wolf being white.

This massive creature is Thorne.

I push my hands beneath me and shift my body to a sitting position to get a better look at him.

The wolf chuffs softly, watching me as I move to sit back against the headboard. Then, he moves. The massive animal stands and stretches, and holy cow. He’s huge. Bigger than any K9 animal I’ve ever seen, even laying down, but now, he would reach my eye level while I sit on the bed.

He must be two or three times bigger than a regular German Shepherd dog.

He begins moving toward me slowly, watching me carefully. A sliver of fear trembles down my spine, but I don’t move.

When the wolf reaches the side of the bed, he stretches his nose out to poke it into my arm. He nudges me, the wet and cold feeling of his nose bringing a sense of calm with his touch.

This is Thorne, and he wouldn’t hurt me.

The fear from moments ago disappears when his nose nudges my arm again.

“Are you… were you keeping watch?” I ask, looking back at the door. I can’t imagine why else he would be laying between me and the door, like he was protecting me. The wolf nods, his head coming to rest on my thigh.

“I thought you left,” I tell him softly, my fingers moving on their own as I reach for him. “I didn’t know you were changed.” There’s something so comforting about Thorne even in this form.

He moves his head, tilting into my hand, and I realize I’m touching him. My fingers are running through his fur at the back of his head and down the side of his neck. His movement is small, but it opens my eyes.

“Sorry,” I mutter, pulling away, but I freeze when he stands again. I’m not sure what he’s doing until his front paws are up on the bed. He leisurely climbs onto the bed and lays down, facing me and taking up almost as much space as human Thorne.

I wait, unsure what to do when he looks at me. Like he realizes I’m not going to touch him again without permission, the wolf reaches his head forward, takes my wrist in his teeth gently, and places it on the fur at his back.

“You want me to keep petting you?”

The wolf nods again, and I find sinking my fingers into his fur is a bit odd while strangely comforting at the same time. I never thought I’d be petting a wolf, yet here I am. Touching Thorne has always calmed me down, but this is different.

It’s almost like it’s more potent. I’ve never talked to or touched anyone while they were in wolf form. Technically, he’s not fully animal, but still it’s strange. It also makes me wonder why he’s not in his human form.

“Are you like this because of the full moon?” I ask, “I didn’t think that it affected you very much anymore.”

Wolf Thorne merely blinks, and I sigh. The warmth of his fur and the soft tingle that spreads in my body chases away the remnants of my nightmare, and I feel myself beginning to relax as I wait for his response.

He makes a chuffing, almost laughing sound at the question, but he still doesn’t change back.

I know it sounds naïve, but I’m curious. Despite living in the pack for years, I don’t know too much about werewolves. My stepfather doesn’t really speak about being one, and he doesn’t really shift because of his disability.

Usually werewolves don’t like human interaction, so they’re not going around telling humans about their lives, shifts, and customs. I make a mental note to ask Thorne more questions when he’s back to normal, and a thought occurs.

“Is it because you’re worried someone will try to hurt me again?”

He nods.

“Thank you.”

The wolf chuffs and jerks his head at my pillow, his tail thumping twice against the mattress. I look between them and realize what he wants.

“I don’t know if I can fall asleep,” I tell him, “I had a nightmare.”

For a moment, we sit in silence and watch each other. I think he’s going to give it up, but after a second, he reaches down and pulls at the comforter with his teeth. I hadn’t realized I kicked it off and watch in silence as he tugs it over my legs.

Then, he looks directly into my eyes, as if trying to tell me something. He chuffs and thumps his tail twice again. When I don’t move, he growls softly and bites the hem of my shirt, pulling it.

“Okay, okay,” I mutter, laying down. “You’re bossy even in wolf form.”

A satisfied growl falls from Thorne as he finishes pulling the covers over me.

Once I’m tucked in, he settles back in the spot beside me and lays his head on my stomach. The weight is comforting, but the soft, rumbly purr that comes from him is even better. The sound vibrates through me, like a lullaby.

My fingers find his head again, and I allow his purring and his warmth to lull me back to sleep.