The crying did not stop all at once. It weakened slowly until Ruelle was left breathing unevenly against Lucian's chest, too exhausted even to lift her head.
Lucian said nothing.
One of his hands rested against the back of her head, careful to avoid the places where blood had dried into her hair, while the other remained around her waist. His body was unnaturally still beneath her cheek, but she could feel the tension that had never quite left him.
She winced when the fingers of her broken wrist tried to curl further and he pulled away.
"Let me help you up," Lucian offered, before helping her stand.
Her swollen eyes drifted towards the silver-black shape lying several feet away.
"He is stronger than he looks. He is our wolf," Lucian assured her and she nodded. But seeing the blood pooled around the wolf, she knew the creature needed to be healed.
