Page 15 of Found in Obscurity

Calm was good. Breathing was good. Kit felt like he could fully expand his lungs for the first time in forever. And it had been a long day. Long years.

Kit could feel the energy leaving him fast, that frisson that had sparked between them tapering off and sapping his vigor, leaving him tired beyond measure.

He got a good hold with his claws and settled himself in against Lorin’s tense body, molding his form around Lorin’s waist and tucking his tail in around Lorin’s back until he was all but covered by Lorin’s jacket and heat. He kept his snout pointed up into Lorin’s scent, letting that lull his eyes closed and relax his exhausted body.

Lorin would take care of him.

His mate.

Chapter four

Lorin

He was slumped backon the sofa, his head spinning with what had happened earlier. Every now and again, shivers would run through his entire body, making his teeth rattle and his muscles spasm.

He didn’t dare look at the other corner of the sofa. He didn’t even want to entertain the thought of it.

The shock of white he could spot out of the corner of his eye wasn’t his to entertain. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care. He had been so close to being given the answers, so close to getting help with something that had weighed on his shoulders for so long. He couldn’t lose sight of that now.

“It’s pretty cute.” His grandmother broke the silence and Lorin startled, his head whipping to the right involuntarily.

His eyes landed on a mass of white fur, paws sticking up into the air, a tongue lolled to one side, and a tail flicked over one of the colorful throw cushions. Sjena was giving him a curious look, beady black eyes focused and head tilted to the side.

It looked like a feather-stuffed pillow had exploded all over the sofa, and Lorin did not think it was cute. Not for a single second.

He also didn’t want to acknowledge the warmth settling into the pit of his stomach, fighting against the dread already there, pushing it out and trying to win it over.

He wouldn’t let it.

This wasn’t what he wanted.

“You said the chances were slim,” he said to his grandma, eyes still glued to the mess of white.

“I never said there were none, though.” She stood up and walked toward the sofa, crouching as best she could in front of the little fox and staring at it.

She extended one finger, the dark symbols on her skin, runic in shape and jagged around the edges, stark against the white fur she ruffled.

Lorin felt something ugly rear its head inside his chest. He didn’t want the fox touched by her. Protectiveness and possessiveness curled together in an eruption that wanted to spill forward. The hook in his chest, newly cemented and incredibly tender, yanked again.

He shook the feelings off, ignoring the pain and clenching his fists against his thighs to stop himself from reaching out and pulling the fox into his own arms.

“It wasn’t among the potentials,” his grandmother said, still looking at the fox, unaware of the tempest Lorin was trying to leash. “We’ll have to take it to be looked over. See if it’s healthy or if it needs something other than what we already gave it.”

Her words registered in Lorin’s head, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around them. They sounded final. Like it was a done deal that the fox was staying with him. He hadn’t agreed to that.

The fox’s paws twitched in the air once before it continued to sleep on, seemingly dead to the world.

“But it seems to be doing okay. Food, water, and warmth will help with most things. Poor little thing must have been out in the cold for a while.”

“It’s built for the cold,” Lorin said, just to be contrary. His grandma scowled and Sjena cawed.

“That doesn’t mean it deserves to suffer.”

Lorin felt guilt gnaw at the edges of his conscience. She was right. The little fox had nothing to do with the fact that Lorin was so against being a witch. It was following instinct. Doing what it was made to do. Lorin had no right to put the blame for his predicament on it.

And yet, he did his very best to. Because someone needed to be blamed and he didn’t have a lot of options.

“Trust you to just trudge over all protocol.” She huffed, and while it sounded every bit like the criticism she was so quick to dish out, there was also a glint in her eye that spoke of concealed amusement.