Sleepy Fox Hollow Gain the weight of you, then lose it

I did not either, said Mahler, and Wylla decided then and there to give him the benefit of the doubt. The truth would come out in Rivenwood, if it was a lie he told here. Multiple times had Mahler told her that he would not be happy to do as he had done the year prior. Multiple times she had thought him a liar.

Now she took it for truth, at least until proven otherwise. She didn't have the energy or desire to pick any more fights, in any case, and certainly not in earshot of Phaedra. She yearned to ask what he would do if she was mistreated by his Rivenwood, but did not.

That would come out in time, too. She owed him time to show her that it wouldn't be a repeat of the past. The least she owed him for saving her sorry life, after the way she'd treated him for the entirety of their time together.

Another yawn cracked Wylla's jaws while Mahler settled himself nearby, and despite not truly deserving it—how many times had she cut him down, accused him of things he had not done, and threatened him on top of it?—she scooted close. She needed the comfort now to drive away the persistent fear that lingered in the quick pace of her heart and the sharp smell of her wound. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, easing quietly in his company until she fell asleep, greeted by run-of-the-mill dreams rather than the wild ones of last night.

Somewhere deeper down, past her insecurity and her worry and her fierce indignation, Wylla was not right without him. Had never been. Maybe his nearness would help to mend the unrest in her soul enough that she would be better in the morning, and better overall, and would never do something so stupid and reckless again.