REINER
After our little match, Becky had fallen asleep between my arms: her convalescence was really tiring her out, and the shifting rehab had definitely knocked her out for good, draining what little energy she had left.
Her head was resting on my chest, and every now and then, she’d nuzzle it: I might have never had to deal with a mate going in heat, but I’d educated myself on the matter in the last few weeks, and my wolf had recognized out of instinct those behaviors. She was scent-marking me – making sure every other female knew I belonged to her, and her alone. Her estrus might have slowed down a little since her surgery, because her body was redirecting all of her strengths towards healing, but it was still there, inevitable and approaching.
The couch we were on, and on which w
