Chapter 5

-Trynnian-

I bite my lip, trying to push the images of the werewolf covered in my loved ones’ blood out of my mind. Kit’s not going to hurt me, calm down. He makes no move, so I ask again. “Are you going to shift?”

He shakes his head slowly, and I raise an eyebrow at him. “Why not? It would help, wouldn’t it?” He nods, before gesturing at me. “I don’t want you to leave though.” My heart squeezes, and I look away, but he can probably already see the blush in my cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could stay with you shifted, but- I can’t. I’m scared,” I mutter to myself. His eyes meet mine, and guilt threads through me. Kit isn’t that wolf, and he looks more scared than I do, but I’m just not ready for that yet.

Yet? Am I already thinking I’ll be alright near a shifted wolf?

“You said you hated werewolves. It makes sense, we’re monsters to you.” I bite my lip, and this time I taste copper. “I’m sorry. I know not all werewolves are...like that, but I- I had a bad experience. And you’re the only other wolf I’ve met since then.”

He nods, smiling gently, despite his still-shaking hands. “That’s fair enough. Let’s just sit here and talk then. I’ll calm down eventually anyway, it’s just...the memories are still raw,” he says quietly, and anger flares in me again.

I look down, so as to not scare him again, but I feel so angry at the prison guards who hurt him. He’s this massive, buff werewolf who’s terrified of even saying something wrong. Whatever they did to him, it was effective. Extremely psychologically effective.

“So, tell me a bit about you. What do you like and dislike?” I say eventually, once the anger has left my eyes. Or at least, I assume it’s gone because Kit doesn’t look scared like he did last time. “I like kittens,” he says shyly.

Didn’t think macho werewolf with a blush because he likes kittens was my type, but wow ok. That’s somehow adorable and hot at the same time.

I clear my throat, hoping it’ll clear my thoughts also. It doesn’t, and I keep thinking back to when we kissed a few hours prior. I hadn’t even realised I’d threaded my fingers into his hair at the time, but thinking back, it was so soft.

Oh crap, now I want to kiss him and touch his hair.

“Kittens? If I ask my mother for a cat, we could definitely get one,” I say absentmindedly. Kit’s face lights up, and the sight sends a flood of warmth through me. To think, I would’ve never experienced this if I had gone through with the whole ‘I want nothing to do with you’ thing.

Laughing, I smile at him. “You’d like that?” He nods enthusiastically, before blushing again. “Sorry, it’s just- I like them. I always got teased because of my name and my love of small animals.” I blink, before realising he’s literally called baby animal.

A giggle escapes me before I can even think about it, and I grin at my husband. My husband. “I think your name is lovely. And I like cats too, they’re so cute, although I’m a bit more of a dog person myself.”

Kit’s smile falters, before sliding off his face completely, to be replaced with a grim one. “Not a wolf fan though.” His words stab into me, and I glance away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, retreating back into the bed even more.

“It’s fine. We should probably get ready for dinner,” I say, standing up abruptly. Kit nods, but doesn’t move. When he catches me looking, he shrugs. I could’ve sworn he winced as he did, but his wrists probably hurt.

I hope it was just his wrists, but something niggling in the back of my mind told me it wasn’t.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” he says quietly, and it takes me a moment to realise what he’s referring to. “Oh - we need to change out of our wedding suits. I’ll find something for you to wear.”

He nods gratefully as I dig through my wardrobe, looking for something formal enough for dinner with my family, that would also fit Kit. Eventually pulling out a pair of trousers my mother had given me which never actually fit and my largest shirt, I leave them on the bed for Kit.

“I’ll change in the bathroom, you can have those,” I explain, grabbing some items for myself before shuffling into the bathroom. After a sufficient amount of time, I knock on the door to let him know I’m coming out, before entering the room.

I can’t stop the laugh from escaping my lips, and I smash a hand to my mouth to contain the sound. Apparently, Kit doesn’t mind, however. He clears his throat, a small smile on his lips. “So the shirt’s a bit too small,” he says sheepishly.

A bit is an understatement: his biceps are bulging out of the sleeves (which I must say, I enjoy the view of), the buttons look ready to fly off the front if he so much as breathes, and the fabric is stretched to ripping point.

When I finally recover, (not from the laughing, that stopped once I began checking him out) I explain that I’ll get one from my brother. He’s beefy, so hopefully his shirt will actually fit Kit. When I return to the room, shirt in hand, I stride over to the werewolf, handing him the shirt.

He smiles gratefully, murmuring his thanks, before I realise I should give him some privacy. I turn too quickly, in an effort to hide my now-burning cheeks at the thought of him shirtless (God I’m already so far gone). I manage to slip on the smooth wooden floor, and topple over - right on top of Kit.

We land with a grunt on the floor, and the embarrassment is killing me, until I notice Kit’s face screwed up in pain. I quickly get off him, apologising as I lend him my hand to stand up. I keep my eyes on the floor, feeling like shit for hurting him on day one, when I notice a mark on the floor.

“Huh?” I lean down, before realising the mark on my floor, is blood.