in reality. He could easily die without our connection.
When he whimpered and whined, wanting to be close to me, I howled my happiness to the stars. He had to run with me, followed me all the way back to his body, cradled there in my arms, and it was slow, rough going, a slog, but then he picked up speed, and I felt him getting stronger. Then he leapt home, tethered by the astral cord, into his body, eyes open, flailing, the machines chirping, letting me know he was alive and breathing. And the blood, his blood that had needed replenishing, he had regenerated that himself.
My mate would live, and I cried softly into his hair as, even in sleep, he clung to me.
I could barely keep my eyes open at the dinner table. When I nodded off, Avery helped me to my feet, making our excuses to our family, and walked me to our bedroom. It had been redecorated: black and white with deep maroon, forest green, and sapphire blue accents. He stripped me quickly, and I crawled, naked, into the warm bed, cocooning myself under the new cotton sheets and heavy quilts. He tucked me in, kissed my forehead—no one smelled like him—and promised to be right back. And so, happy but emotionally and physically exhausted, my brain shut down, and I was out.
And I dreamed.
I was falling. I was freezing and wet, pelted with hail as I dropped. When I hit the water, a cold, roiling sea, I opened my eyes as I sank. I could see a room in the deep, and then there was blood and a knife, a white wolf sitting in a pool of blood, staring at me with dead eyes. Avery was swimming toward me, reaching, but the current kept pulling him away, no matter how hard I swam.
I was sinking, drowning but still kicking as hard as I could, trying to rise from the darkening water. I was drowning, and my lungs screamed for air. I needed to break the surface—
“Graeme!” Avery yelled, and I heard him even though he was hoarse, like he’d been yelling for a bit.
“Avery!” I howled, scrambling to sit up, everything spasming at once, my entire body a rictus of pain, and then he was there, on me, his warm body covering mine.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed, hugging me tight, his weight on top of me so welcome, so calming, so settling that I inhaled deeply, making sure my lungs were working.
“You’re okay, baby,” he crooned, kissing the side of my neck. “You’re here with me, and everything’s okay. I’m all right, you’re all right, and everything turned out fine.”
Had I ever had any idea how much I would enjoy being called baby?
“It was just a bad dream, and sometimes, a dream is just a dream.”
Yes.
He cupped one side of my neck with his hand, pressed hot kisses to the other, and I realized, after a moment, that I was naked and so was he.
When I wrapped my arms around him, he shuddered, and I rolled us so we faced each other, chest pressed against chest, close but not on top of him so I could look deep into his eyes, that were shrouded with dread.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, using my thumb to wipe away his tears. “What happened? You were scared, and I felt your panic like it was mine.”
“I’m sorry,” he husked, “I didn’t mean to––”
“Tell me,” I demanded, needing to know, needing to protect him, whenever possible, from all things that could cause him pain. “I could almost taste your fear.”
His hands were all over me, couldn’t stop stroking up over my ribs, my chest, down my sides, mapping my skin with every graze of his palms.
“Avery?”
“I read Wade’s report, and Daw had a gun too, and…if Kat hadn’t been there, he could…he could have…killed you,” he said gruffly, swallowing hard.
“It was scary for both of us,” I murmured, my hand in his hair, savoring the feel of the silky strands on my skin. “But we came through. We both did.”
He laid his head down on my chest.
“Avery, I––”
“Shh,” he hushed me.
I smiled over how serious he’d sounded. “What are you doing?” I whispered.
“I’m listening to your heart,” he murmured. “It’s steady and it calms me and I like to be close to you.”
“I like being close to you as well,” I croaked out, my voice faltering with his nearness. “No great secret there.”