One Step Closer
1003 Words
"Sod it!"
Seth watched helplessly as Edith stormed away from him. He wanted to stop her, to pull her back into his arms, but guilt held him frozen in place. He’d already f****d up enough—he wasn’t about to make it worse.
Then he caught it. A scent.
A wolf.
But not one he recognised.
His gaze snapped to the forest lining the road, his entire body going rigid. The night was quiet, too quiet. But there—just ahead—was Edith, walking alone, completely unaware of the danger lurking in the shadows.
A rustling in the undergrowth sent a jolt of adrenaline through him. He tilted his head, eyes flashing towards the sky. The full moon bathed the earth in silver light as his body began to shift. His skin prickled as tawny fur sprouted along his arms, his nails elongated into lethal claws, and his muscles stretched, doubling his size in an instant. With all four paws now planted firmly on the ground, he was ready.
[Over there, Seth!]
“Yeah, I see the bastard.”
Seth lunged forward, tearing through the night like a bullet. His wolf senses sharpened as he locked onto the figure ahead—a black wolf stalking silently towards Edith’s unconscious body.
The moment the creature leapt, so did Seth.
His fangs clamped onto the black wolf’s throat, dragging it down mid-air. They hit the ground with a thud, Seth pinning the intruder beneath him, a low, menacing growl reverberating through his chest. The bastard fought back, its claws raking across his side, forcing Seth to skid backwards.
The black wolf scrambled to its feet, baring its teeth, but Seth stood his ground, muscles coiled, ready to strike again. His amber eyes locked onto the trespasser. One more step, and he’d rip the bastard apart.
[He’s a lone wolf.]
The black wolf hesitated before making its decision. With one last glare, it turned tail and disappeared into the shadows of the forest.
The fight was over. But Seth wasn’t done.
[Why didn’t you go after him, Seth?]
“I need to check on her.”
Shifting back, he barely registered the way his shredded clothes clung uselessly to his body. He didn’t give a toss about modesty right now—Edith was all that mattered. Scooping her up, he carried her towards the car, his human form only slightly slower than his wolf’s.
Once she was settled in the back seat, he pulled on a spare set of clothes, slid into the driver’s seat, and floored it.
***
It was three in the morning when Edith stirred.
She blinked up at the white ceiling, her body heavy with exhaustion. Where the hell was she?
The sound of a door opening made her turn her head. Seth entered the room, a glass of water in hand.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Where am I?"
"My house."
Edith took the water from him, downing it in one go before handing the glass back.
"My head’s spinning… what time is it?"
"Three in the morning," he replied, switching on a diffuser in the corner.
The moment the scent hit her nose; she gagged.
"Ugh! That stinks—turn it off!"
Seth scrambled to shut it down, guilt flashing across his face. "s**t, sorry. Thought it might help you relax."
She wrinkled her nose, still trying to shake off the nausea, when another scent reached her. A familiar one. Comforting. It made her feel… safe.
It was him.
Edith leaned in, inhaling deeply, her face mere inches from Seth’s chest.
"What the f**k are you doing?" he asked, confused as hell.
"You smell good," she admitted, before realising what she’d just said. Embarrassed, she recoiled, shaking her head. "Forget it. I must still be delirious."
Seth smirked, clearly amused.
"Get some rest," he told her. "I’ll be on the sofa if you need anything."
"Why don’t you just leave?"
He chuckled. "This is my room, love. Where exactly am I supposed to go?"
She scowled, throwing the covers off and attempting to stand. Seth was on her in an instant, steadying her before she face-planted onto the floor.
"s**t, Edith, sit down. You’re in no state to be walking anywhere."
"Argh! You piss me off!" she snapped, but she was too weak to fight him.
Seth sighed, watching as she slumped back onto the bed, defeated.
Minutes passed in silence. Seth sat on the sofa, scrolling through his phone, while Edith tried to ignore the nausea creeping back up her throat.
Then she lost the battle.
"Seth—where’s the toilet?"
His head snapped up. "What’s wrong?"
"I’m gonna be sick."
He shot up from his seat, lifting her into his arms and carrying her straight into the bathroom. Edith barely made it before she was hunched over the toilet, heaving.
Seth knelt beside her, gently pulling her long blonde hair back. "Breathe through it," he murmured.
Once she was done, she slumped against the wall, utterly spent.
"I’ve been throwing up all day," she groaned. "What the hell is wrong with me?"
"Come on," Seth coaxed, helping her up. "You need to rest."
Too tired to argue, Edith let herself be carried back to bed. She didn’t even care anymore. Let Seth do whatever the f**k he wanted—she was too knackered to fight.
Seth tucked her in, making sure she was comfortable before stepping away.
"Don’t go," she mumbled.
He hesitated. "I was just gonna sit on the sofa."
"I said stay."
Something about the way she said it made his heart do a funny little flip.
"You do realise you claim to hate me, right?" he teased.
"I do hate you," she muttered. "But… being near you makes me feel… I don’t know. Safe."
Seth blinked.
'Well, f**k. That was unexpected.'
Slowly, he climbed onto the bed, sitting beside her. "Hmmm… Edith, are you asleep yet?"
"No. What now?"
Seth swallowed hard, his nerves suddenly getting the better of him.
"Can I touch your belly?"
- Writer
