A Stolen Fate
We reach our matrimonial bedroom, my bedroom now, I suppose, and the gamma hesitates at the threshold, as if uncertain whether he should enter this space that once belonged to both Alpha and Luna.
"Bring me in," I order, and he obeys, wheeling me into the center of the room.
Holmes follows, hovering uncertainly. "Will you need assistance preparing for rest, Alpha?"
"No. Just give me my crutches and leave me be."
The gamma retrieves the crutches from where Holmes has been carrying them, and I take them, gripping the padded handles like lifelines.
"That will be all," I say, not looking at either of them. "Close the door on your way out."