Page 28 of The Fanged One

He came to guard us, her wolf said. He's standing watch.

He's sitting in the hallway like an oversized labrador, Linnea shot back.

Before she could open her mouth, Tor's door opened across the hall. Her brother stepped out in sleep pants and nothing else, his hair tied back at his nape. He looked at the wolf, at his sister in her pajamas, and tried to cough to cover up his laughter.

"I suggested he sleep on the couch, but he just turned into a wolf and ignored me," Tor said, as if that explained everything.

"He can't sleep in the damn hall, Tor," Linnea replied, folding her arms.

"That's something you have to work out with him. I have a mate that needs me behind my very soundproofed walls." He gestured at Fenris's hulking form. "Have fun dealing with that."

Behind him, Ciara's voice came from inside the room. "Leave them alone, Tor."

"Coming, kanin. Goodnight, you two. See you at breakfast." Tor winked at her and went to bed.

Linnea stared, dumbfounded, at his bedroom door. Tor had wanted to kill Fenris a few hours ago, and now he was suddenly cool just to leave them alone while he went and shagged his mate.

"Traitor," she muttered and turned back to Fenris. "There's a perfectly good, big couch just in there."

He stared at her and didn't move a muscle.

"You can't sit in the hall outside my door all night."

Fenris cocked his head a quarter inch and started to wag his tail.

"Acting like a puppy won't work. I see through this tactic."

Fenris only looked up at her with big, imploring eyes. Gods, he was so cute she wanted to rub her face against his ears to see if they were as soft as they looked.

Seems like it's working to me, her wolf whispered.

"You know what? I'm too tired for this." Linnea opened her bedroom door. "I swear to the gods if you snore, I'm kicking your ass out."

Fenris's shoulder brushed her hip as he padded past her into the room, leaving his scent on her that she had only just washed off. At least if he were a wolf, she wouldn't have to have any awkward conversations with him.

Linnea shut the door behind her and climbed into bed under the covers. She rolled over and looked down at the great black shape sitting by her bed in the dark.

"You're being very strange, you know that?" she informed him.

A slow shimmer of magic moved through the room, light as breath against her skin. The shadow of the wolf turned into a man.

And there goes my chance of zero awkwardness, she thought, wanting to pull the blanket over her head.

Fenris sat on the floor and rested his back on the side of the bed. A thin strip of streetlight through the curtains caught his bare shoulder, and the silver line of a scar curving over it. She could just make out his profile, the long blade of his nose, and the shape of his mouth.

"I know it's strange, but your presence comforts me," he whispered, husky and deep.

"It's fine, just weird," she said into the pillow.

"I… have trouble sleeping. I still can't really believe that I'm free. When I close my eyes, I'm afraid that I'll wake up and still be in the cave," he admitted, and the hitch in his voice made Linnea's chest ache.

She moved her hand out from under her blanket and reached down the side of the bed toward him. Her fingers found his hand and the rough calluses that were still on his large palm.

"That's shit. Is there something I can do to help?"

His mouth brushed against her knuckles. "Will you sing to me, little one?"

Linnea's fingers tightened on his. She had sung to him in her dreams and hadn't known if he could hear her at all. It had always been a tune that she had made up and used to soothe a baby or frightened pup.