“Then it really doesn’t sound like it was your fault. What do we know?” I ask him.
He looks over his shoulder to the doorway, and when I turn my head, I spot Noah standing there. It was his voice I must have heard when I woke up; that makes sense now. He steps into the room so I don’t have to strain my neck to look at him.
“Once the firefighters got the fire under control, Oliver and I took a look inside to try and find the cause because nobody could find where the fire originated. Neither could we, but when we went up into your bedroom, I found a hex bag under your bed. I’ve sent it off to Orla to take a proper look, but our best guess so far is that’s what prevented you from waking up and escaping.” Noah’s tone is sombre as he explains, who could possibly want me to die in a fire? Cee leans forward and cups my cheek with his palm, kissing my forehead gently.
“The important thing is you’re gonna be fine. Oliver and Noah will figure out the rest, and then we’ll deal with it. You should try and rest some more, okay?” I nod, somewhat bewildered by all this information, but my brain is foggy. Every time I try to reach for a thought or a detail, it’s like wading through thick mud.
“Thanks, Noah,” I croak out before a horrible cough burns through my chest painfully. Noah dips his chin and leaves the room; his faint footsteps fade as he walks down some stairs.
“You look like you need some rest, too. How long have I been out?” I rasp.
“Three days. Longest three days of my life, honestly,” he replies. I doubt he slept a wink during that time; he must be shattered. When I shift over slightly and peel back the cover I’m under, he joins me on the bed. We lay side by side, and he brings my face to his chest, enveloping me in his arms.
“I need you to know that I willneverleave you, and I’m so sorry I let you worry about that for even a moment. When I think about those moments when we weren’t sure if you’d make it, I kept thinking I needed you to know I didn’t mean the stupid words I said. And I love you, and I’ll never stop loving you. And also, I have to die before you do because I’m never doing this again, okay?” His breath hitches, and he swallows loudly, choking down his emotions. My memories of the argument thatnight are blurry at the moment, but I know in my gut he was never really going anywhere.
“Okay, babe, you can go first,” I tell him, making a promise I can’t possibly keep, nor do I really want to. Ideally, the two of us will goThe Notebookstyle, curled up in bed, and peacefully die in each other’s arms. It’s unlikely, but I think we’re owed some luck at this point.
When I press my lips to kiss the hollow of his throat, he lets out a deep breath, and some of the tension leaves his body. Throwing a leg over his hip, I pull him in close and let the steady beat of his heart lull me back to sleep.
When I next wake up, I’m sprawled on top of Cee like a koala, and he’s awake, mindlessly running his fingers through my hair. I’ve no idea how long I slept, but I feel so much better. When I swallow, I’m still thirsty, but it doesn’t hurt my throat anymore, and when I take a deep inhale, my chest no longer rattles.
Something snags in my mind when I scent the air. I’m mostly just appalled that Cee let me sleep on top of him when I’m pretty ripe right now, but there’s something else. What the hell is that? Shuffling up on Cee's chest, I scent his neck, sensing a foreign new smell on him.
Why does he smell like that?
“Stop sniffing me,” he says grumpily.
“Why do you smell different?” I ask, feeling suspicious, but I’m not entirely sure of what. He doesn’t smell of another wolf. He still smells like Connor even; it’s just there’s a new scent layer, and I can’t pinpoint what it is.
“Um… we can talk about it later.”
Well, that’s an ominous response.
“How are you feeling? Do you want some water? A shower?” The subject change is not subtle, but I do want both of those things.
“Water please, then shower, and then there’s a lot of blanks you need to fill in.” Cee sighs in defeat, clearly not looking forward to that part but begrudgingly agrees.
The hot water pelting me in the shower feels amazing on my skin. I scrub my hands down my face and immerse myself under the large tropical shower head. There are several patches of skin on my arms and legs that are a light pink colour; the burns must have been horrendous for my skin to still be healing this many days later. I don’t think it’s really hit me yet; how close I came to dying.
Choosing not to dwell on those thoughts, I take a good look around the room. It’s a beautiful mixture of old and modern. Stunning hardwood floors with what appears to be brand-new bathroom appliances installed. The walls are white, but the bath and shower are against a wall of green subway tiles, contrasting nicely. I assume the place is Noah’s, but it’s certainly not his place in Edinburgh, that’s for sure.
“Who’s house is this?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Can we add this to the talk for after the shower?” Cee replies from where he’s perched on the toilet lid while I scrub every inch of my skin. He claimed it was in case I suddenly felt faint, but I’m feeling fully healed now, and I suspect it has more to do with him not wanting me to be out of his sight after what happened.
As much as almost dying in a fire sucks, I don’t remember a thing, and I have to keep in mind that if I was in Cee's shoes, I'd be a total mess right now. He pulled me from our burning home, unconscious and covered in burns. He didn’t even know if I was alive; that must have been terrifying for him.
“Oh shit, what about Magnus? Is Magnus okay? He got out, right?” I blurt, spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste down the shower drain after suddenly remembering our fur baby, and feeling awful I didn’t think to ask sooner.
“He’s fine; he’s downstairs,” Cee reassures me. A smile tugs at his mouth because he adores that little black cat. He takes the toothbrush from me and pops it in a cup by the sink. After I’ve rinsed off all the suds from the shampoo and conditioner, I turn off the shower, and Cee hands me a large, fluffy white towel to dry off.
Back in the bedroom, Cee pulls out some jogging bottoms, a t-shirt, and socks for me to wear.
When I step out of the bedroom onto the landing, I’m blown away. The bedroom and ensuite are on a mezzanine looking out onto a large open-plan home below. It’s simple and minimalist, but every single detail looks thought out, and it’s beautiful. At the other end of the house are floor-to-ceiling windows that look out onto rolling hills. Every single detail of this place is breathtaking and unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Yet, there’s also something so familiar about it.
As I make my way down the stairs, Cee follows and walks into the kitchen to put the kettle on. I perch on one of the bar stools pulled up to a kitchen island, and stare at my surroundings. When Cee turns to face me, something in his expression is self-conscious, but I can’t really fathom why.
Connor Kelly
