Page 57 of Finding His Fox

No matter how hard or how fast I ran, it always closed in on me, catching me every time. After that, the details would shift slightly, but it always had the same few of endings.

Sometimes, it would sink its claws into my shoulder, causing me to bleed out.

Other times, it would viciously tear Cal’s throat out. That one was the worst.

“Cal?” I called out into the empty room, my voice hoarse.

No answer. I listened intently and heard the clanging of pots and plates, and breathed a sigh of relief. Cal must be in the kitchen.

Stretching my hands across the bedspread, I reached for Cal’s pillow. I buried my face in it, inhaling deeply. Pine and musk—Cal’s smell.

That was right. We went back to Cal’s cabin after cleaning up the camp.

We were too tired to do anything else and decided to take a nap before making dinner plans.

I glanced at the watch beside the bed. 7 pm. My stomach growled loudly.

I made my way to the kitchen and found Cal standing by the stove, cooking in nothing but his boxers. Not a bad sight to wake up to, especially after a nightmare.

I came up behind Cal and, with a gentle touch, I began rubbing slow circles on his back, careful not to startle him.

I planted a kiss along his shoulder blade, loving the feel of his warm skin against my lips.

“What are you making?” I asked, taking a peek at the stove. It was a grilled cheese sandwich.

“Just a snack,” Cal replied.

He turned slightly to give my temple a quick peck before focusing back on his sandwich and expertly flipping it in the pan.

The smell of butter toasting on the bread made my stomach grumble again.

“For me?” I asked, a smile spreading across my face.

“If you want,” he replied, returning the smile.

I took a seat by the kitchen island and watched as Cal prepared another grilled cheese sandwich for himself while simultaneously keeping an eye on the one cooking in the pan.

I was mesmerised by the way his muscles flexed and rippled with each movement.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked after a while.

A low chuckle escaped from Cal’s lips.

“Believe me, I tried,” he said. “But you kept kicking me every time I came close.”

“Ha ha,” I retorted, pretending to be annoyed. “Seriously, though, did I… do or say anything while I was sleeping?”

Cal paused for a moment, focusing on finishing the sandwich he was preparing.

He carefully plated the first one and placed the second one on the pan before setting down the plate in front of me.

“You couldn’t sleep and kept tossing and turning,” Cal explained.

“You had just fallen asleep when I left the bed. Are you still having those nightmares?” He asked, his voice filled with concern.

I nodded, nervously picking at the crust of my sandwich.

“Yeah. Except it’s getting worse. This time, you’re there, trying to save me, but every time... the wendigo wins.”