The Found One

Chapter 22

Izzy POV

Rowan didn't return for a long while. Izzy didn't know where he went, but a little voice in the back of her head told her that it wasn't far. She refused to move from where she had crumpled on the bathroom floor, instead she reached and pulled the towels down form the bar overhead. Curling into a small ball on the cold smooth green tiles, she let the tears fall. Shivers slowly started to cover her, goosebumps breaking out over her skin; still she refused to move, to seek comfort.

She was lightly dozing, her head pounding and throat sore, when the bedroom door open, her heart thundered in her ears as she forced herself to remain still. She wasn't afraid or scared, knowing that even after everything that happened, everything between them; Rowan would not allow anyone to enter that room, to get to her. The thought crashed into her, bursting over her bleeding heart. How can I still trust him after everything? What is wrong with me? He's nothing to me! Nothing but a monster! New tears pricked her eyes behind her closed lids as she listened to her own lies over and over. It felt like her whole life was a lie.

She heard him sigh from the bedroom, eyes taking in the empty bed she refused to lay in. His feet whispered across the floor, walking towards the bathroom, a low string of curses coming from under his breath as he took in where she lay curled in a tight ball; back pressed tightly to the porcelain of the tub, the few thin towels tucked around her offering only minimal protection and comfort. Even with her eyes closed, Izzy could picture his fingers running through his silver hair, how it would catch in the soft light of the moon, how his lips would tighten in frustration and distress.

She couldn't help herself from jumping as the blanket settled over her, her eyes flying open. His face was hidden in shadows so she couldn't make out his expression as his hands gently pulled the thick duvet over her. But his voice was soft and deep, "Just sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

Her eye lids felt gritty from exhaustion and the hours of crying, she didn't think she could speak so just nodded her head, letting her body relax. This time she didn't react as his strong hands lifted her head, replacing the scratchy folded towel with a soft pillow. She sighed in contentment.

Satisfaction and relief radiated from him as he cocooned her in the warm thick blankets, checking and double checking to make sure no more of her exposed skin was pressed to the icy coldness of the floor, or left uncovered to the chilled air.

Feather light fingers ran over her cheeks, her hair, urging her to succumb to the tiredness in her body as he whispered. "I'm yours Madeline, and I'm never leaving you again."

.

.

Waking up she was disoriented before the day before came racing back. Pain lanced through her heart, although, now instead of a fresh wound it was the dull throbbing pain of a festering sore. With a sigh she lifted her head, taking in the evidence of their battles the previous nights. Her fingers probed her throat, wincing as she irritated the sore, tender spots.

Looking around the mess of the bathroom, her hand flew to her mouth, fresh tears filling her eyes as she stared. Her mind went blank, and then something as small and fragile, as it was tender and warm, flickered to life in her chest. A small sob escaped her as her eyes took in where at the door of the bathroom, laying across the threshold a physical barrier to the space where she slept – lay a wolf.

Her eyes ran over his fur, silver and grey, shining in the morning light spilling from the picture window beyond. He was massive, solid and strong, his head rested on his front paws, ears twitching slightly as he listened to sounds she could only guess at. His silver eyes open, and watching her.