Blood & Wine

23 | Dasher

Iris laid on her stomach, head resting on her arms. Her eyes were closed, but I knew she was awake. I knew it in the same way I knew I was awake, and she was not a dream, and this was not something I had desperately concocted in my head to hide my feelings from myself. I just knew.

I watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, the small twitches of her lips as she tried to stop smiling or laughing. We were supposed to napping—apparently, when female werewolves weren't in heat or during the full moon, they liked to sleep. Mora, Jessi, and Irene, the only other female werewolves I had come across so far, were all in asleep downstairs. With the exception of two teen werewolves, all the other men were down at Club Lust.

Stroking her hair, I wanted to look at my phone. Neither Calla nor Eden had called me—and it hurt my feelings. With time to cool down on my side, and the expulsion of anger during that fight with Fynley, I felt... clearer.

Enough to know that I was wrong, that I did done Eden dirty, had betrayed Calla for someone I didn't know that well.

That did not change how consumed I was with Iris, though. I just needed to... get a handle on it. Get her out of my system.

I also needed to go back home. To my Coven. Staying in Fynley's house was not an option. We'd kill each other. I also couldn't stand to look in his face. He smelled like Eden, and, last night, injuries and all, he had fucked Iris all night. She hadn't protested, and she sounded pleased—in fact, I was sure she had sought him out, and while I couldn't be mad at her, I was furious at him.

He had no decorum.

"You worry so much, Dasher," Iris said softly, intertwining her fingers with mine. Her hand was soft, and she smelled like sandalwood and... something else I couldn't place my finger on. But not Fynley. "What is it now?"

No frustration in her voice, but genuine care.

I blew out a deep breath. I could stay here for days, watching her nap. She always stretched before she got into bed, opening her arms wide. She curled her toes when she climbed in the bed, rubbing them against the blankets. And she didn't like to sleep alone—before me, she slept with either Fynley or Irene. It disgusted me tithing Fynley shared this bed with her, but then she said Fynley never slept anywhere but his room, including when he slept with her.

"Well?"

I blinked. "I'm sorry, I was thinking about something else." I washed all thoughts of Fynley away. He had tried to kill me yesterday, and I had the bruises and bite marks to prove it—but he looked much, much worse. I didn't kid myself by thinking I had actually bested him. There were many times he should've just snapped my neck or ripped my heart out, and he hadn't. It didn't make sense why he didn't hurt me. "What did you ask me?"

She opened one eye to look at my face. Whatever she saw made her sit up. "I asked you what were you worrying about now?"

"Now?" I smiled at her. I had a lot of worries, a lot of things to deal with, and I didn't want to disappoint anybody—my dead mom, my dead fiancee, my Coven, Iris, myself, the Moon Goddess. She had given me the Gift of Three and for what? I was squandering it, shacking up with a beautiful woman that belonged to someone else. What were her words? I had a lot more to learn about being a witch and a werwolf, yet I had foregone the Coven for the pack.

No, no, for Iris.

Her lips turned up, even as her eyes remained closed. "Yes, now. You're always worried about something."