Thorn (Werewolf) ✔

Chapter Fifty

I wake up to the sounds of birds singing, which was my favourite sound in the morning, but even more so now that I can hear them so delicately. My naked body is pressed into Thorn's and we're curled up within the quilt. Last night was so perfect that I don't want it to end. I'm excited about England but I'd prefer to just lay here with him, within this quilt, for the rest of our natural lives.

I move my thumb against his shoulder that is coated in large freckles. I press my nose into it, inhaling the faint scent of dried sweat. I was wrong. This is the moment that I want to remember above all others.

Thorn starts stirring, his hands reaching out of the quilt to stretch. His eyes open softly and they drop to mine. I smile at him.

"I love waking up next to you," he says, pulling me closer against him. "I'm going to love it even more when we finally have our own double bed."

"I don't know. The ground is underrated."

"That's because you haven't spent a century sleeping on it."

"True."

"That damn bird has been around for months," he growls. "I wish he'd change his song."

I listen to that bird's sweet and poetic song for a moment and I don't know what Thorn's talking about. I love it. It's relaxing.

"I'm going to miss hearing it in a morning."

"I'm not."

"That's because you have no heart." I grin before reaching my lips up to kiss him.

I was only going for a soft, morning kiss but the moment it happens, it's like we can't control it. Our lips ignite fire that spreads to every corner of my skin. I pull on his hair as he kisses my throat.

"We should probably get going," I say difficulty. "The others will be wondering where we are."

He makes a face of disappointment. "Fine."

I kiss him one last time before I roll myself onto my stomach to push myself out of the quilt. I lift my head, my body tensing as I meet the faces of a dozen wolves at the line of trees. "Thorn."

Thorn panics and swings himself around. I sit back, wrapping the quilt tighter around me to form a barricade between my skin and the sharp teeth of the predators that are walking closer.

"It's okay," he says. "Just stay still."

"I thought you said they were afraid of your scent?"

"Not this pack. They're friends of mine."

The wolves walk right over to us, they seem calm and curious. They stay back while a light-grey wolf fearlessly comes up to Thorn and rubs her head against his. I freeze as she turns and looks at me, she presses her nose into my cheek and I look away as I gently pat over her matted fur. I've never experienced anything like this, it's incredible.

"Do they know?" I say.

"Of course they know. We smell a little bit human to them but not enough for them to attack. Most of them are scared of us."

The wolf backs away and walks over to her pack, I watch after them in amazement as they run off together. Thorn is frowning, as though they were saying goodbye. I guess I'd need to experience an entire century in these woods to bond with wolves the way that he does.

"I guess we'll have to come back one day and visit them," I say.

He frowns again. "No wolves in England."

"You sure about that?" I grin at him until he laughs.

The laughter drowns out and I glance at the camp sadly. It's beginning to feel real now. This little place has brought me so much happiness over the weeks. It healed me in ways that I can't ever repay it for. It gave me the courage to face my fears—to face the wild. Now I'm prepared to face the world.