Werewolf Compilations novel Chapter 88

It has been almost a week since I've seen James and I can't help but worry. What if he's never coming back for me? What if it was all a lie? I can't die here alone. I just can't. These last few days I've put all my eggs in one basket. Tonight I sit in bed, waiting like the past few nights. My tiredness has been scared off by excitement and anxiety and a thumping heart.

After another hour, I can't help but lay down. As much as I fight myself, my eyes can't help but close—I'll open them abruptly once I feel myself falling asleep—but soon I'm oblivious to everything around me. I am submerged in a dreamland.

It feels like only a few minutes later when there's a gentle hand on my arm. At first, I think that I'm dreaming something incredibly realistic, but when my eyes open and the familiar shadowed corners of my bedroom appear, I immediately look up. James is sat on my bed, looking down at me. He takes his hand off of my arm and says quietly, "I'm sorry for waking you."

With my brain still asleep, my eyes roll to the small clock on my bedside table from when I was thirteen. It's a retro, pink, ugly clock whose smoldering digits tell me that I've been asleep for almost an hour. I then peer back to James and blink a few times before slowly sitting up in my sheets, not registering anything. "You're here?" I mumble, rubbing my puffy eyes.

"Yes. I'm sorry I had to come so late."

His voice wraps around me like ribbon. "That's okay. Are we leaving now?"

"No. Not tonight," he says softly. "I should let you get back to sleep."

"No," I protest, sounding more awake. "I'm fine. Don't go." He nods, but before he can speak, my tired mind finds it best to bring up the things that have been bothering me the past few days. "Why did you do it? Sleep with her, I mean."

James looks off at the open window. "I don't know anymore," he says then looks back to me. "I'm sure it was to make myself believe that I didn't need you. To forget about you. To stop thinking about you. To force myself to believe I could be with someone else."

I rest against my headboard and bring my knees to my chest, not willing to let go of the warmth in my bed. The open window allows the cold bleed inside. James seems to notice this because he gets up to close it. "Can you?" I ask.

He slides the glass down and turns to me. "I can't forget about you. I can't get you off of my mind." He nears me and sits back down.

"Can you be with someone else?"

"No," he breathes out. "I can't."

Satisfaction fills me. "I want to go back to your pack. I don't want to be here."

"Is it really so bad?"