The truth is, wolf-men or not, I need them tonight. At this point, the idea of braving the wilderness alone is more than even I can handle. And after hiking for a few hours in the woods, I am grateful that they found me.
The one with a cocky face and a stubbly chin is Callum, they tell me. The one with the full beard, eyes with golden flecks, and a smile that makes me forget all about the past is East. And River has a smooth face, eyes are so blue they’re practically ice, and he walks behind me, at the back of the line, as we hike through the woods. I am not sure if he is my protector or the one who makes sure I won’t get away. Right now, I’ll take either if it means I make it through tonight alive.
“You okay?” River asks, his voice a soft hush against the stark night.
“I’m fine,” I say, though it’s a lie. My arm aches and my head spins. “No biggie, just a woman alone in the woods with a pack of wolves.”
“You can call me by my name you know,” he says, his pace quickening so he is right behind me. A chill covers my spine at his proximity. “And are you sure you’re alright? I can carry you the rest of the way.”
“Uh, thanks, River is it, but I’m good.” Truth is, though, the idea of River holding me, my face against his solid chest, sounds more than a little inviting. I’m unaccustomed to feeling safe and content. I can feel myself fighting against it already.
“You don’t have to put on a brave face for me, you know,” he says, reaching for my hand. “You can be yourself with me. With all of us.”
“Not sure you’re up for that. I’m a bit of a challenge, or so I’ve been told.”
“Hey,” he says, stopping, and forcing me to turn and face him. “Challenges don’t make me run.”
“No?” I ask, his hot breath so close to my mouth, and I wonder if the other guys even notice that we’ve stopped walking. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t scare easy. And besides, Remedy, it looks like you could use someone to watch over you.”
I don’t tell him he’s wrong, that I’ve been on my own forever, thank you very much- because there’s a hint of something gnawing at me. Something that whispers my name. Something that says maybe he is exactly right. Maybe, right now, I am against a rock and a hard place and these wolf-men are the soft landing I need.
They look at me like they could catch my fall. Hell, like they would brace themselves for whatever wreckage I might leave in my wake.
And god knows, if my life says anything, it screams disaster.
It feels good to hear River say that I don’t scare him. The idea of him watching over me causes a tingling to run up my spine. I have a compelling desire to stop walking all together and let him press his body against my back. I haven’t felt that in a long time.
Maybe in forever.
That need for someone to wrap their arms around me and not let go.
I swallow the emotions wanting to surface. I don’t do feelings. I don’t do tears. I don’t do heart-to-hearts.
But River doesn’t seem to care about what I don’t do.
“Hey,” he says, brushing back a loose strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear, his warm hand on the curve of cheek. “I know you aren’t asking for help, but I’m giving it. Okay?” Then he leans down and lifts me off the ground. Without missing a beat, he carries me toward his friends up ahead. My body stiffens, and he notices.
“I don’t bite, you know,” he says.
I snort. “Says the wolf.”
“Touché.”
I lean against him because really, it’s impossible not to. He smells like pine trees and sandalwood and – oddly since we’re out in the woods -- a used bookstore. Like well-worn pages and favorite passages. I could dog-ear him, run a pencil under his words, and return to them time and time again. He’s a stranger but he feels familiar. And right now, after the day I’ve had, I need familiar. Even if the familiarity is a fabrication in my mind. I need to feel like I am not alone in the world.
“I got you,” he says as if understanding all my unsaid things.
“Thanks,” I say under my breath, not trusting myself to say anymore. And when we get to their cave, tucked behind thick pine trees, my eyebrows raise. River sets me to the ground, and I look around the intimate space. “This isn’t like any cave I’ve ever seen.” My eyes run over the walls carved from rock, and am relieved to see a large pallet on the ground, covered in old, Pendleton wool blankets. Against a wall there’s a shelf with some basic food items—trail mix and bottles of water, jerky. East lights a lantern sitting on a small table. While it’s a cave, it’s a cozy one.