Her soothing voice washes over me as she tells me what’s for dinner. It’s Chicken a la King, and it’s apparently not her favorite. I’m getting tired now, and the pain is getting worse.
I concentrate on her words and am surprised when she wants to share her food with me. She holds out her hand, but I can’t lift my head. When I try, a red-hot poker stabs searing pain through my stomach.
When I breathe to ride out the pain, I can smell the chicken she brings closer to my mouth. I also smell the delicate scent of her skin, and it calms my racing heart.
She’s right, of course, most dogs wouldn’t want to eat in a state like this, and I’m not hungry now, nor do I have an appetite, but I do, more than anything, want to get better.
The sooner I heal, the sooner I can shift, and then I can thank Kimberly for what she has done for me. It’s what drives me, now, to take the piece of chicken she offers.
Her hand is tiny compared to my muzzle, and I have a moment of panic when I take the small piece of meat from between her fingers. She’s nervous, too, and I look back up at her to reassure her that I won’t bite her.
The smile she rewards me with when the chicken disappears between my teeth was so worth the moment of panic. My heart does a little somersault, and I feel like such a good boy.
If I were able, I’d laugh right now. She’s got this way of making me feel better by just being herself. It’s incredible.
The chicken is tiny in my mouth, but I still struggle to chew it. Every move of my jaw hurts. There is a stabbing pain that runs down the side of my neck to my stomach, and I wonder what kind of injuries I have.
I keep chewing, though, because I need the strength and because it makes Kimberly happy. She’s already got the second piece ready for me, and I don’t hesitate to take it from her.
She keeps talking to me, telling me she has to get up early in the morning to help with the chores. They have many mouths to feed - Huskies - and it explains why she’s so comfortable around me.
The chicken pieces keep coming. My jaw hurts from chewing pressed to the floor of the crate. The pain in my neck is worse. I am so tired now, and I focus my eyes on her to keep them open.
When she’s finished feeding me, she eats the rest of the food quickly. Her pale pink lips slide over the fork with each mouthful, and I’m starting to feel like a pervert watching her eat.
My eyes droop. I let them because I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable while she eats, but the moment I hear the clink of the fork on the plate indicating that she’s finished, I look back up at her.
She smiles and reaches into the crate to stroke my muzzle. Her fingers are soft and gentle, and she shows no more hesitation. She trusts me now.
Kimberly gets to her feet and walks towards the kitchen door. Ice runs through my veins, and my heart hammers wildly. Where is she going?
I don’t want her to leave. Right now, she is my reason for living. She is the angel that saved me. My body screams in pain when I try to move. I lost sight of her, and I want to lift my head.
The pain is too much. Black crowds the edges of my vision, and a whine escapes my throat. My body goes limp, and I’m afraid I might pass out.
Kimberly is immediately by my side and talking to me. Her voice rouses me, and I listen, fixing my eyes on her to steady myself. Her gray eyes are so sad, as if she can see my pain.
I whine once more as the pain slowly fades, but I can see it breaks her heart to see me hurting. I don’t want to do that to her.
She’s done everything she can to save my life and make me as comfortable as she can. I will just have to suck it up.
Kimberly reaches into the crate and strokes my muzzle again. I want to wag my tail to make her happy, but it doesn’t respond to me. It frustrates me, and my first instinct is to growl.
Living only in my head with an unresponsive body riddled with pain is driving me mad. I’m scared I’m going to do something that will break the tentative trust Kimberly and I’ve built.
Her gentle fingers brush my cheek, and I blink. The soft thump-thump of my tail smacking the floor of the crate is like music to my ears. She did it! She is an angel.
Waves of exhaustion roll over me, and I struggle to stay awake. She seems to know, and she tells me it’s time to get some rest. I’m immediately concerned that she’ll leave me, but instead, she brings her bed to me.
How do I deserve someone like her? After what I did, I should not be this lucky. Kimberly is kind and gentle, yet she’s also firm and strong. I bet those Huskies out there recognize her as an alpha female.
The thought sends lightning through my brain, and I’m suddenly wide awake. Is that why she sets my heart racing every time she looks at me? Could it be?
I mentally shake my head. She’s human. There is no way our souls could connect. We’re not the same species.
Yet…I dwell on the thought a while longer as I watch her move the mattress alongside the crate. Most males my age have found their fated mate by now, but I’ve never even left Anchorage to look.
Kimberly slides beneath the blanket and makes herself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as a mattress on the floor can be, I suppose.
She’s real close, now, with her face right in front of mine. The crate’s entire front is open, so there is nothing between us. I wish I could reach out and hold her.
Instead, she reaches out and sticks her arm into the crate, placing her hand beside my muzzle. I’m immediately acutely aware of her scent, and my heart beats faster, again. I am so tired, in so much pain, but I don’t want to miss a moment of this.
She looks so peaceful with her eyes closed. Her face relaxes, and her pink lips part as her breathing evens. My angel.
My eyes droop again. I can not stay awake any longer. My body needs rest. I breathe in the scent of her hand beside me before I close my eyes, and I can’t get enough of it.
Before I can stop myself, my tongue flicks out and slides across her skin. It’s soft and warm, slightly salty, slightly tainted from the body-wash she used, but mostly it’s her unique flavor.
And, something else.
Electric tingling flicks across my tongue.
Kimberly opens her eyes wide, and we stare at each other.
Chapter 10
Even in the dark, the dog’s eyes are as blue as a glacier as he looks at me from his crate. My hand trembles beside his muzzle, and I can see the sheen of wetness where he licked me.
My entire body vibrates as my heart tries to return to a normal rhythm, and I try to figure out what just happened.
He just lies there and stares at me. Did I imagine it? I can still feel a slight tingling across my skin and the soft disturbance of air over my damp hand every time he breathes out.
He doesn’t lick me again, but he doesn’t look away, either. There is something in his gaze that holds my attention, and I notice, again, the unusual behavior of him looking from one eye to the other.
He really sees me. I almost feel as if he sees into me. There’s a warm tug deep in my belly at the thought, and I want to look away, but I can’t. He holds me prisoner with those blue eyes.
It’s almost unnatural. He’s only a dog. Is it because I saved him that he looks at me like this? Is it because I pity him that I am reacting the way I am?
With effort, I pull my hand out of the crate and stick it under my pillow.
“Sleep, now, silly boy,” I whisper.