Jennifer’s POV
I woke up to the softest sound—like a low rumble, almost a sigh.
The morning light spilled through the thin curtains of the cottage, and when I turned my head, there he was. The wolf. Massive, black as night, silver eyes steady even in his stillness. He was lying near the door, not curled up like a dog but stretched long, proud even in rest, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that strangely comforted me.
For a moment, I froze, breath caught between fear and fascination. The memory of the night before rushed back—the wound, the way his body had trembled under my hands, the way he had allowed me close enough to help. I should’ve been terrified. Every instinct told me so. And yet, I wasn’t.
I eased myself out of bed, my feet touching the cool wooden floor. He lifted h
