Chapter 68
I hurry back into the communal hall, expecting all h ell to break loose.
Aaron remains standing. He looks tense.
Has he always been so big, so imposing?
He’s huge and muscled and, da mn it, he’s handsome. His eyes light up when he sees me. Then he does a quick skim of me from head to toe as if to make sure I’m okay.
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
It’s more than I can say of my brother’s packmates. Er, my packmates.
At least four males are sprawled on the floor.
No one looks seriously injured, which is a blessing. But there are busted beer bottles and glasses. Poker chips and playing cards scattered around like confetti.
Fighting here. Now.
That’s a bad, bad idea.
“Seriously Aaron!?”
He tucks his hands in his pockets and looks sheepish. “They started it.”
James snorts. He’s across the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
“I expect this of him,” I tell James. “But you know better.”
He frowns and looks suitably chastised.
“Walk with me, Aaron.”
“Where are you going?” Liam asks.
Marla stands beside him. Her arm through his. They aren’t blocking my way into the main portion of the house, but they are a unified front standing before me.
“I’m going to my old bedroom. I need clothes. Is that a problem?”
He shakes his head. “No. No. Of course not.”
“If you need clothes, I can bring you some,” Marla offers.
She’s all bo obs and probably a size three.
Even weak and dying…I’ll never be that skinny.
Aaron moves until his shoulder brushes against mine. He does this a lot, I’m realizing. He uses touch and nearness to …affect me. His wolf does it too.
“It’s this way,” I say, leading him out of the main hall.
One of my first priorities is going to be cleaning that mess. I’m kind of horrified at how they’ve let this place go, but maybe that is to be expected. A bu nch of guys. No Luna.
I try not to be judgy about it.
We go up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway. My father’s room is on the opposite side of the house. My m om had a craft room and a nursery in this wing. She wanted more babies. I had a younger brother, but he died in an accident. I don’t think she ever got over that.
I’m not sure that ‘replacing’ him with another child was the answer, but I stop that chain of thought instantly. Families are meant to grow. People are meant to love. Even in the face of death, the living…they have to keep on living.
I’m saddened, acknowledging that I’ll probably never have a baby of my own. Maybe it’s a blessing that mo m and dad died first, that they won’t have to bury me.
I push open the door to my old bedroom and freeze.
