The Fenrir Saga - Part I

Chapter 41

Henry

We were just finishing breakfast when Trevor froze, probably being mind-linked by Vile. As he unfroze, he sighed, and I looked up at him.  

"You alright?"

He nodded begrudgingly.

"B is still out, and I need to go watch her," he said, looking down. "I mean, of course, I want to, she is my friend, it's just-"

"You also want to watch Vile."

I glanced sideways at Annie and Skylar to see if they had noticed our conversation. They seemed indifferent, and I made a quick decision.

"I can watch her if you want to. But don't tell anyone."

His eyes snapped up at me, and he mind-linked back.

"You sure?"

I nodded.

"Sure. Just don't tell Annie."

He gave me an amused smirk and mouthed a thank you before he excused himself and left for the Ironwood pack camp.

I deliberately slowed my eating, and when everyone had finished and got ready to go to the arena, I pointed at my food and said I would catch up. I waited to ensure my friends left before I gulped down the food, sprinting on the back lane towards the Ironwood camp. Trevor waved to me from one of the small tents, and I sneaked in from the back.

"You sure?" he said hesitantly.

"Sure. Now hurry, or you'll miss the fight."

He darted off, and I moved the curtains hanging in front of the entrance to the side and walked inside. The room was quite comfy, with two beds on each side of an armchair angled towards the bed B lay in. Some racks for clothes, a small desk, and some chairs completed the picture.

B still had warpaint and her suit but was tucked under her bed cover. I sat in the armchair and rested my elbows on my knees, leaning towards her bed, studying her face.

It did annoy me that I had never really seen her face upfront. She had always had a scarf, sunglasses, wounds, or, in this case, war paint on whenever I encountered her. At the restaurant, she hadn't worn anything, but she had also refused to look at me, meaning that not even that time counted. For some reason, the fact that we never had any eye contact made me feel like I hadn't met her for real. 

Still breezing, just doing this as a favour to my friend, I reached to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear—a friendly gesture for sure. No one wants hair in their face when they sleep. My fingers were inches from that stray blonde hair when she moved. I froze. Both hoping that she would and that she wouldn't wake up.

She didn't wake up. She moved from the side to her back, kicking the cover half off, exposing part of her thigh and leg. She still had her wrist protection on and some shoes. It bothered me that her legs were only hastily dried off, as blood, sand, and dried sweat were still visible. Slowly and deliberately, I removed both her wrist protection and her shoes. I was careful not to touch any skin. It was a friendly thing to do. No one wants to sleep with shoes on.

I tucked her under the covers again and was about to sit in the armchair when she moved to the side.

"Mmf."

I froze. Nothing more happened, so I sat down again, resting my elbows on my knees and leaned forward towards her. The strand of hair had once again fallen over her face, and once again, I reached out to tuck it behind her ear. This time, though, just as my finger touched the hair, her eyes opened. They widened in terror, and she jerked back, crawling up to a sitting position, back against the wall with her knees protectively in front of her. I pulled my hands back and held them up in front of me in surrender.