Coldsnap: The Billionaire Alpha's Fated Pregnant Princess (GL)-Chapter 346 - I Did Walk Five Hundred Miles, But Tonight Won’t Walk Five Hundred More

Chapter 346: Chapter 346 - I Did Walk Five Hundred Miles, But Tonight Won’t Walk Five Hundred More

The phone buzzed to life against my palm as I crossed into the city limits. Stumbling slightly on the uneven sidewalk edge. Glaring at it like it wanted to start a fight. My feet? Were sore. And I did not need that.

> Actual pain, even with werewolf resilience. Hundreds of miles on foot in a day is too much. Wasn’t I supposed to be taking it easy? <

I was so concerned that I’d even checked | Matron’s Monitor | three times in the last hour. Including when I’d dressed... behind a gas station dumpster. In jogging clothes that clung awkwardly from the damp evening mist.

Chimes made me wince, when I saw who they were mostly from. Messages were waiting from me. I kept walking, squinting at the screen through gritty feeling eyes.

K: [Are you okay today?]

...at around noon. Right before I left the city. Had already turned off my phone.

K: [Citra, can you tell me where you went?]

...at around 2PM. She must have been informed I’d slipped her security detail.

K: [If you have a problem with the wolves I assigned to you, I can replace them.]

K: [If it’s space from me after last night, I understand. But please answer.]

My steps slowed as I registered the hours-long gap... before the final two messages. From 4PM to 11PM. I can only imagine *when* she actually engaged in stewing over herself as a problem, or for how long.

> Silly clingy wolf, it was less than a day. Police reports can’t even be filed the first 24 hours or something like that, isn’t it? What? A myth? <

Not entirely sure where Vrika got that impression of information, but confirming the spirit was right on my browser... with thumbs that kept smacking the wrong symbols... well, if she really wanted to mobilize a search she would not involve police anyway. Just her pack.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog making everything about that feel too significant. Whether there are Rimecoat out and about looking for me or not doesn’t change that I need sleep.

The warehouse makes the most sense. The electrician would arrive early, if the other days were any indication. To test the solar panels. And I’d need to *mysteriously* move the first container outside before they got there.

"I don’t think I’d make it in time if I had to wake up and sprint from my apartment."

Plus there was quick to eat food on the shelves, even if not as nice as a warm meal. And that made my legs move just a little quicker for the first five minutes. Before taking a break against a cool concrete wall from my complaining lower back.

When I finally reached the place, I nearly missed the scent. Underneath the usual industrial smell of metal and concrete. Recent. Within the last few hours. Crisp snow and iron, right up to the door.

> Kyrie. <

I pushed inside quietly before following the trail in the air. Right to the office, with my jumbled storage. A bit of light spilled from the slightly open door that my fingers nervously paused on.

Soft, steady rhythm from her breaths meet my energy spent enhancing my hearing. Peeking in stealthily, I see she has climbed over things to get to the bed I was going to use. And she was asleep.

On my side of it. She took over mine. Even though she had configured and adjusted... *hers* already that time I’d made her nap. With her phone plugged into a charger, screen still glowing like it had been used recently beside her.

> Perhaps she just turned off the ’screen timeout’? I did think of doing that before. <

Still, this wait hadn’t been entirely spontaneous. She’d planned to potentially stay here. Brought her own charger. Settled into the middle of my things with clear intention.

I stood there all wobbly longer than I should have. Looking at white hair spilling across my pillow while Vrika’s tail wagged gently in my soul. Happy with this outcome, but pleasantly reserved.

She wore a similar set of casual clothes from when I left, though I’m sure she has not worn the same ones all day. My fingers fumbled with my own outfit before I could talk myself out of the simplest solution.

Off came the top, then the pants. The underwear was a line I won’t cross this evening. Even before Tolerance was affecting me, sleeping in nothing was just preferred. I was too tired to overthink or construct elaborate reasons why this was okay.

The bed was right there, I’m right here. Facts that I rely on as I climb onto her side. With its wrong settings. She doesn’t wake as I flop. As I make small groaning sounds.

The firmness was wrong. I could get back up, make a bunch of noise connecting the power. Adjust the settings back to my preferences.

Except that would require moving. And thought. And energy I simply didn’t have. But I am *not* happy with this arrangement.

> It can’t be helped, then. <

I pressed closer, my front aligned with her turned back. One arm draping over her waist. Because there was literally nowhere else to put it. After squeezing onto a too-small slice... of queen-sized mattress.

My hand fingers splayed slightly against the soft fabric black shirt covering her stomach. And my head loomed over as I tried to get my other shoulder off of the other side of the bed. Her phone screen caught my eye.

Still showing her last... messages. Not our thread. But with a handful of telling exchanges. That it is quite rude for me to be looking at by absolute accident like this.

Claire: [Her phone is back on, in the city. She seems fine based on traffic cams.]

Sweet Wolf: [Thank you.]

Claire: [Are you going to come back to the tower now? Should I send a driver?]

Sweet Wolf: [...No. I’m happy where I am tonight.]

My throat made weird sounds as I processed... that self user nickname. And I guess the last message. Being happy here, after keeping some sort of vigil for me. Choosing jumbled apocalypse supplies over her penthouse, over comfort, over everything else.

She stirred because of my suddenly too awake fingernails clawing at her stomach. A soft sound that might have been a word, name, or might have been nothing. But her hand that had been under her cheek found mine.

Curling around my fingers gently but securely.

> Sure. You get comfortable and happy. At my expense. I’ll remember this debt... <

Whether accusing Kyrie, whose sleep went undisturbed, or the black wolf... whose blue eyes were closed... well, it’s clearly Vrika. Laying with its paw over a phantom, translucent representation of a white wolf ’plushie’. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The silly creature is clearly showing off how it learned to *make* comforting things in my soul for itself. Just making itself home in my things. Both of them.

But even as I thought that, my neck was already relaxing. My forehead bumping into her neck. And I was too tired to be properly alarmed by how little it bothered me anymore. To be bound with the spirit as long as it wanted.