Bearly alive

20

Roman

We didn’t have a very long way home, but since I didn’t want to ask Stella to shift into her lycan, we obviously took longer. And by the time I see part of the house peeking through the trees, thanks to streaks of light that start trickling in, I am ready to welcome the warmth that awaits inside. Tired is an insulting understatement for what I am right now.

“Cute.” The vampire declares as we approach my property. Of course, no one asked for her opinion, yet I do somehow feel proud that she didn’t start with something offending in regard to my sanctuary.

“I’m not going to lie, this isn’t quite where I pictured you living, but also this is exactly where I pictured you living.” She waves to my house. “Is this your primary residence, or…”

I ignore Autumn when I notice that Stella remained an extra step behind. I open my mouth to question whatever game she’s playing when it hits me that she somehow managed to get out of the house despite the exits being electrified. Despite my warning.

Part of me doesn't want to scare Stella, so I don’t say anything. Instead, I carefully approach the normal looking front door, and gently push it open. And yes, what I expected was for the damn thing to just fall to the ground. I can feel my eyebrows furrowing and my forehead creasing when it doesn’t move an inch. It almost looks intact and dare I say, locked.

Stella appears next to me, her expression sheepish. I watch as she bends down and digs under a patch of grass. I didn’t even notice the slightly raised mound of grass that didn’t quite match the rest. Then, to my complete astonishment, she produces the key. My f*****g key, keychain and all.

“I figured you wouldn’t like it if I left your front door unlocked.” The keys dangle between the two of us, yet I’m too f*****g stunned to move. Like in a trance, I follow Stella’s movements as she fiddles with the lock and gets the door open, clearly still nervous under my gaze. Bypassing me, Autumn waltzes right in, her fingers feeling for a lightswitch where most people would expect it, by the entrance. The only reason I start moving to get inside is because I don’t trust the blood sucker, and I nearly bump into her.

“Move.” I growl and reach to finish up the job she clearly isn't qualified for, and try to turn the lights on. I flick the switch before Stella could finish what she started to say.

“I think the fuse box needs looking at. I didn’t want to risk it, so I took them all off before I noticed the lever.” She stammers. My insides turn again in a funny feeling.

I don’t say anything back even though I’ve figured out Stella enough by now to know she needs some sort of acknowledgement that I’m not mad at her for disconnecting the electricity in the house. f**k, if anything, I’m impressed. As in really impressed by her craftiness, but also by the huge security flaw I lived with for the past couple of years. It only took a scared, little lycan to nudge me a peg or two off my high horse.

I quickly took care of the power and came back to the living room to explain to our, my, new unwanted guest / employer the house rules.

As if reading my mind, Stella, freshly wearing one of my not so fresh shirts that I dumped into the laundry hamper Goddess knows when, is already making the sofa into a bed. It’s not a pullout, but I must say it doesn’t look half bad right now. I could definitely use the rest so much that I would have fallen asleep on those fallen rocks and still managed to find a comfortable position. This is why this looks bloody inviting. I have to make sure I don’t fall into a deep sleep that might make me prone to my nightmares, but I can still get some rest.

The rules for Autumn are simple. I barked at her the usual don’t f*****g touch anything followed by the obvious don’t go outside without my knowledge or permission. Her acknowledgement was as I expected, a childish eye roll and a mock salute. But despite all that, the deeply rooted fear that still shines in her eyes tells me she heard, understood, and most importantly will do as I tell her if she’s keen on staying alive and not getting a second shot at that stake piercing her heart.

I gave her my only spare bedroom, which has previously been occupied by Stella, and she disappeared inside with no further comments or complaints. Suits me just fine.

“I’ll just go and take a quick shower. The same still applies to you. Got it?” I narrow my eyes at a gulping Stella. She’s been exceptionally quiet, not that she was very chatty before, but it is almost like she is making herself invisible. Only providing a little help when and where is needed, without as much as having to ask her for it. As I climb into the shower in my room, I allow my mind to dissect that trait of Stella’s. I’m too tired to shut that down before I come to a conclusion I might not like.

I suppose it’s the way she had to be in the pack she grew up in. There is no diplomatic way around it. Stella was practically a slave while living there. From what I’ve learned since I met her, I've become more and more convinced that I can’t even begin to imagine the horrible things she must have lived through. And the thing that sparked something in my chest is the realisation that she doesn’t think it was that bad, that it could have been worse. Or at least that’s what she acts like. But f**k me, there’s always something worse, that doesn’t minimize the horrors happening though.

Finding some clean clothes to cover myself with, I grab a pillow and rush out. I must have taken longer in the shower than intended. Downstairs is dark, only a small lamp in the corner of the kitchen casting a soft light, just enough for someone that might come downstairs for a glass of water, not to trip considering they would probably be half asleep. I shake my head as if saying typical Stella.

I can hear these tiny, calculated, huffs and puffs from the direction of the sofa. I surprise myself when I make my steps light like a ghost and approach the sleeping form that’s curled up under a thin blanket. I almost curse out loud when I notice it’s another sheet, not an actual blanket. Stella looks so frail, dirt still smudging her skin and hair.

It occurs to me that I never did voice the new sleeping arrangements plan out loud. If I did, Stella would have waited for me to finish showering before taking my room.

A pang of something irrational - feeling foolish - stabs my chest because I thought Stella made up the sofa so I can sleep. Instead, she did it for herself. I know, totally irrational, but this tiny creature has been messing up my thoughts since the second I laid eyes on her. And despite what my bear is trying to imply, she can’t… I can’t. I made damn sure that there will never be another Emily. That there will never be another pain like that.

A silent battle pounds inside my head. Despite my better judgement, I end up holding my breath as I carefully insert my hands underneath the sleeping form and gently lift Stella up from the sofa. She nuzzles against me and clings to my neck, her breathing morphing into a sequence of three sighs. It matched the way my stupid, jagged heart started to beat faster at the close contact, at the way it feels right holding her.

I dismiss the ridiculous ideas that come to mind, and begin the short journey to my room, which is where she will be sleeping until I figure out what’s our next step. Her next step. Or until I get rid of Autumn. Whichever comes first, because I’m ready to take a f*****g break and just get back to quick, easy, clean jobs of having to eliminate one fucker that pissed off the wrong person before collecting my pay and moving on.

Much too soon, and I boil with rage inside for thinking that, I’m back in my room where I ease Stella off into the huge bed. Memories of what happened the last time we were both here flash inside my brain like sirens, and I feel that guilt weighing me down again. It’s all my bear, I know he’s trying to force his feelings and beliefs on me, and frankly, I don’t know who I’m more pissed off at. Him or Stella for sparking all that.

After leaving my captive safely tucked into my bed, I rush out of the room as quickly and as silently as possible. I thought I could just go back downstairs and pretend this moment of weakness, vulnerability or whatever it was from me never existed. Unfortunately, as soon as I turn around after closing the door, I notice Autumn looking at me. She’s leaning casually against the wall, her arms crossed around her chest and an eyebrow arched higher than the other.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I was just going downstairs to grab something to drink. Stayed for the sweet moment. Despite what you must think of me, I’m a sucker for romance.” She whispers in a sing song kind of way.

“I’m fresh out of blood bags. Go back to your f*****g room.” I hiss and turn to leave, feeling like a kid that got caught stealing. And not in a cool, bragging rights kind of way. Unfortunately, it’s the I have a weakness and now someone knows, way.