The Beast World Resets

Chapter 9

The morning light seeped into the small hut where Colette had been staying with Apollo. The villagers had offered it to them as a temporary shelter while they helped with the illness that had ravaged the tribe. Colette stirred from her sleep, her long silver hair tangled from the restless night. The cot beneath her creaked slightly as she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

She glanced over at Apollo, still curled up in his own makeshift bed, his snake-like tail wrapped loosely around his waist as he slept. He had grown so much since they first met, becoming her eager apprentice in medicine, always at her side, ready to help. Colette smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she stood and quietly left the hut.

The air outside was cool, the village just beginning to wake. She could hear the soft sounds of villagers moving about, their steps slower, more deliberate, after the week of sickness that had swept through. While many had recovered, the fear of more deaths still lingered like a shadow.

Colette's thoughts wandered to Curtis as she walked toward the village's well. It had been three days since he'd returned from his self-imposed distance. She had given him space, a chance to decide whether he truly wanted to pursue her as his mate. His hesitation had been clear from the start, especially with the weight of her mission in the beast world hanging over them both. She understood his frustration—he didn't like uncertainty, and neither did she. But Colette needed him to choose for himself, without her pressuring him.

Curtis had been around ever since, watching from the edges of the village. His presence was palpable, but his approach hesitant. He had yet to speak directly to her about what was bothering him, and Colette, patient as always, had allowed him the time he needed.

As she reached the well, she began pulling up a bucket of water, her mind drifting to the villagers. The illness was slowly receding, thanks to the isolation measures and the water purification they had introduced. But there was still work to be done. A few of the patients had improved, but some remained feverish, and Colette knew she couldn't let her guard down yet.

The soft sound of slithering reached her ears before Curtis even appeared. She didn't need to look up to know he was nearby, watching her from the edge of the village as he had done every day since his return. She could feel his presence—warm, intense, and conflicted.

Curtis had always been protective, but lately, that protectiveness had taken on a sharper edge. She had given him time, space to think, and yet he lingered, as if unsure of what to do next.

Colette sighed softly, setting the bucket down beside her. "Curtis," she called out, her voice cutting through the morning quiet.

There was a pause before he finally slithered closer, his red eyes catching the early light. His tail twitched behind him, betraying the frustration he had been holding back.

"You've been watching again," she said, turning to face him, her pinkish-grey eyes meeting his.

Curtis's jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm making sure you're safe," he muttered, his voice low and slightly defensive.

"I appreciate that," Colette replied, her tone calm. "But I gave you space to decide what you wanted, Curtis. Did you think I would disappear on you?"

Curtis's eyes flashed with something unspoken—possessiveness, frustration, maybe even fear. "I didn't want you to think I didn't care," he growled softly. "But it's not that simple."

Colette took a deep breath, stepping toward him. She understood. Curtis wasn't used to uncertainty, wasn't used to being kept at arm's length by someone he cared about. His nature as a feral had always been to claim, to protect, to possess. And she wasn't making it easy for him.

"You're frustrated," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I get it. You're used to being the protector, the one who's in control. But this isn't just about you or me—it's about what we're both facing here. You have to decide whether you can accept that."

Curtis's tail coiled tighter, the tension in his body visible. "You gave me space, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with all of this," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't like not knowing what's going to happen. I don't like not being able to protect you when you need it."

Colette's heart softened, her hand reaching out to rest gently on his arm. "I never asked you to leave me behind, Curtis. I just need you to trust that I can handle myself when I have to. That doesn't mean I don't want you here with me."

His red eyes met hers, the intensity in them flickering with uncertainty. "You say that, but I can't help feeling like I'm not enough," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice taking Colette by surprise. "You don't need me the way I thought you would."

Colette's gaze softened further. "Curtis, this isn't about whether I need you or not. It's about us figuring out how to work together. I need you, but not in the way you're used to. I need you to stand with me, not in front of me."

For a long moment, they stood in silence, the weight of her words sinking in. Curtis's body relaxed slightly, though the tension hadn't completely faded. He was still grappling with the idea of stepping back, of letting Colette lead when she needed to.

Finally, he sighed, his tail loosening its tight coil. "I'll try," he muttered, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice. "But I'm not going to stop protecting you."

"I don't expect you to," Colette replied with a faint smile. "Just trust me, Curtis. We're in this together."

The day passed in a blur of tasks and quiet conversations. Colette and Apollo worked tirelessly to tend to the remaining patients, checking their progress and administering the herbal remedies they had prepared. Curtis, though still brooding, stayed nearby, watching over them with a protective eye.

By midday, Colette found herself back at the hut with Apollo, both of them preparing more herbs for the tonic they had been giving the sick. Apollo worked diligently, his eyes focused as he ground the herbs into a fine paste.

"You're getting good at this," Colette remarked, smiling at him.

Apollo beamed with pride. "I've been learning from the best."

Colette chuckled, ruffling his hair affectionately. Apollo had become like a little brother to her, his eagerness to help reminding her of her own determination. But as she watched him work, she noticed Curtis standing at the entrance of the hut, his eyes fixed on them.

There was a tension in his posture, a flicker of jealousy that Colette couldn't ignore. She sighed inwardly, understanding that this was a delicate balance. Curtis still struggled with the idea of her sharing her time and attention with someone else, even if that someone was Apollo.

She stood and walked over to him, her eyes meeting his. "Are you going to help us, or just watch?"

Curtis's gaze softened, though the frustration hadn't entirely faded. "I don't know what to do with him," he admitted quietly. "He's not... like us."

Colette's smile was gentle. "He's learning. Just like you did once."

Curtis's red eyes flicked to Apollo, then back to her. "You care about him."

"I do," Colette said, her tone unwavering. "But that doesn't change how I feel about you."

For a moment, Curtis's expression wavered, the possessiveness giving way to something more vulnerable. He didn't reply, but Colette could see the understanding slowly dawning in his eyes.

As evening fell, the village settled into a quiet calm. The worst of the illness had passed, and the patients were finally showing real signs of recovery. Colette sat by the fire outside the hut, her body tired but her mind at ease. Curtis sat beside her, his presence comforting despite the lingering tension between them.

"You did good work today," Curtis muttered, his eyes focused on the fire.

Colette smiled softly, leaning against him. "So did you."

They sat in silence for a while, the crackling fire casting flickering shadows across their faces. Colette closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment of peace. For now, the crisis had been averted, and the village was safe. But deep down, she knew that the journey ahead—both in her mission and with Curtis—was far from over.