My throat felt tight, thumping with my heartbeat.
What could I even say to him? I couldn’t lie. I promised myself I wouldn’t do that to him—which spoke volumes in and of itself. Normally I had no issue lying to mortals if it helped me get my way. But it was off-limits with Leveret.
Which meant the only thing I could tell him was the truth.
“Because I like you,” I said.
Leveret’s eyes widened slowly. “You do?” he breathed.
I was convinced my confession would frighten him, or that he’d assume I was joking—but this was Leveret. His sweet, honest personality made him think the best of me.
Did I evendeservehim?
I cleared my throat. “We should—“
“I like you, too, Animus.”
The words stopped me dead. I couldn’t move except for the rapid beating of my heart.
He took my hand—the one resting on his knee—and put it back.
If it was physically possible, I would’ve passed out.
Instead, I stared at him, not knowing what to say. I was horribly aware of the fact that I was shaking.
Leveret’s brow furrowed in concern as he regarded me. “Are you cold? Here.”
Before I mustered the capacity to speak, Leveret shifted into his hare form and pushed his lithe body against me. His fur was warm and impossibly soft to the touch, like running my hand through a cloud. As Leveret snuggled into me, his body heat seeped into my core. It felt like my soul itself craved his warmth, his touch.
I could’ve cried. He tried to warm me up because he thought I was cold. He didn’t realize I was trembling from frayed nerves, wild excitement, and deep anxiety.
Because as hard as I tried, I couldn’t stop myself from falling for him.
Eleven
Leveret
Animus smelled very good.
I cuddled as close to him as possible, my fur brushing against his side and my long whiskers grazing along his upper thigh. My nose twitched contentedly as I inhaled his wonderful scent. I couldn't find the words to describe it. It wasn't like any smell I'd experienced before. Instead of smelling like a real-life thing—like how Uncle Nero smelled like sea salt, or how Bear smelled pleasantly of oil—Animus smelled like a concept.
Fuzzy images formed in my mind as I breathed in.
The dying embers of a once crackling fire. Smoke tendrils dancing in the air. Relaxing around the campfire, curled up safe and warm.
He smelled like… home.
But how could that be? We weren't at my home. I was far from the pack's territory. And it wasn't like Animus smelled like the grove. His intoxicating scent didn't remind me of the proud trees, or the long grass swaying in the breeze or the delicious clovers.
His scent was a different kind of home.
I couldn't get enough of it. I leaned my head against his thigh and sniffed him.
Animus was still. Then he slowly raised his arm and stroked my back. I sighed, enjoying the feeling. I arched my back into his palm as he petted me from the back of my neck to the base of my fluffy tail.
"Pet my ears," I mumbled.
Animus's voice sounded different than usual. "You want me to?"