9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

L ash

At my request, Fang stops at my favorite darendells street food stand. I buy several of the burrito-like naga delicacies for each of us before we drive back to the WW HQ.

Zoya’s been so excited to have her pup back that she didn’t notice the four pillowcases full of clothes and toiletries I brought for her until I set them on the coffee table.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She’s over the moon, so happy to be safe and now she has her dog and her clothes.

I don’t mention that she’s still in danger of being found and possibly forced to go back to Max, or be thrown into detention by ICE.

“She smells like him .” Zoya wrinkles her nose. “We both need to take a bath.”

While she showers, I change my sheets. I have a feeling that at some point today, Zoya’s going to ask how she can repay me. I’ll be ready with my answer, which will be that she takes the bed tonight and I take the couch.

The bathroom door creaks open and Zoya emerges in a cloud of floral-scented steam. My breath catches as I take in the sight of her, cheeks flushed pink from the heat, damp brown hair curling around her face. She’s wearing black yoga pants and a casual blue tee that brings out the blue of her eyes. Her bruises are on full display, but they can’t mar her beauty.

She pads into the living room, Miska scampering at her heels, obviously thrilled to be back with her mom. A picture of Max kicking the little dog flashes through my mind. After what he did to Zoya, I wouldn’t put it past him.

The flowery notes of her shampoo threaten to make me sneeze as she settles on the other end of the couch from me.

“I should have told you to go ahead and eat. I just… didn’t want to smell a whiff of Max. Those darendells smell much better.” She eyes the foil-wrapped food with a smile.

“A naga specialty. Dig in.” I hand her one and she unwraps it.

“Little like a blintz.” She takes a tentative bite, her eyes widening. “Oh! Spicy, but so good!” She takes another, bigger bite, humming happily.

I grin, pleased to see her appetite is healthy. We devour the food in silence for a few minutes. Zoya sets down her darendell and turns to me, her expression quizzical.

“What did Courage mean when he said you held back?” She has her full attention on me, which tells me I’m not going to be able to shake her off the trail. Since she’s going to demand an answer, I might as well tell her.

“Wolven have a lot of wolf-like features— Earth wolves. Though we don’t share any DNA, we share some traits. The fangs, ears, and tail are obvious. Our wolf-like sense of smell and hearing aren’t obvious to others. Our non-wolf-like traits are our retractable claws and superior strength. Another less commendable urge is marking our territory with our… urine.” I cringe, knowing this will repulse her. It’s such a… primitive response.

“You mean piss? You pissed on Max’s things?” Her eyes are dancing with mirth.

“Well, no. It was all I could do to keep from whipping it out and…” My words die mid-sentence. “No. I didn’t urinate on Max’s things, though I wanted to.”

“Do you hear that Miska?” She pats her lap and the pup bounds up to be with her mom. “Lash almost did what Max used to spank you for.” She turns to me and some of her good spirits fade as she says, “It’s almost too bad that you didn’t.”

“Good to know. If I ever make a return trip, I won’t refrain.”

We’re both silent for a moment. Though I have no idea what she’s thinking, I’m enjoying picturing throwing all his clothes on the floor and pissing on them—gleefully.

“Lash.” She’s serious now. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. Rescuing me, taking care of me, rescuing Miska… I don’t know how I can ever repay you.

I wave a hand. “No need. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

She shakes her head stubbornly. “There must be something I can do. Maybe I could cook for you sometime? Or clean the apartment?”

“Zoya, you’re my guest, not my maid. Although…” I tap my chin thoughtfully. “There is one thing.”

“Name it.” She sits up straighter, eager to hear my request.

I point at her, then at my bedroom door. “You. Bed. Tonight.”

Her face falls, those beautiful blue eyes flare, and her mouth pops open to a shocked O. It’s only now that I realize she misinterpreted my order to sleep in my bed.

“No! I didn’t mean… I mean… You should sleep in my bed tonight alone .”

She blinks, recovers her lost calm, then laughs. “What? No, absolutely not! I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

“Why not? You slept on the couch last night. It’s only fair.”

“But it’s your bed! I don’t want to impose.” She twists her hands in her lap.

I reach over to still her fidgeting fingers. “Zoya, you’re not imposing. I want you to be comfortable. Please, I insist.”

She sighs, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.” I grin. “I can be very persistent.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll take the bed. But only because you’re being so annoyingly chivalrous about it.”

“I prefer ‘charmingly persuasive,’ but I’ll take it.” I wink and she laughs. The sound, warm and bright, arrows straight to my guts… and lower.

“Thank you, Lash. Really. For all of this.” She gestures around my shithole apartment as though it were Buckingham Palace.

“Anytime, Zoya. I’m just happy you’re here and safe.”

She leans against the couch, clearly letting her guard down a little more. Bit by bit, she’s allowing herself to relax in my presence. It takes everything in me not to scoot closer and wrap an arm around her. Baby steps, I remind myself. She’s been through so much. The last thing I want to do is spook her.

For now, I’ll content myself with the small victory of her taking the bed. And maybe tonight, I’ll impress her with my next-level cooking skills. After all, anyone can make an omelet, right?