Chapter 63

Addy’s POV

By the time I finally heaved my last box into the room that was officially mine, I was drenched in sweat and wheezing like a dying walrus. I stared at the staircase as if it had personally offended me. The very last thing I wanted was to trek back down those cursed steps to fetch Damien’s clothes, but I couldn’t exactly live in my underwear—well, I probably could, but the landlord wouldn’t appreciate it. So I took a breather by hanging my own shirts in the closet. Two hundred hangers stared back at me, mocking the ten tops I’d packed. Still, kudos to Human-Damien for his—albeit overenthusiastic—attempt at hospitality.

While I clipped my shirts onto the sparse hangers, my brain ping-ponged back to the tampons and floral-scented shampoo I’d found in the bathroom. Those were for me, right? When I asked Wolf-Damien—who was preoccupied sniffing the carpet—he confirmed the theory. I actually felt a warm fuzz of gratitude. Sure, Human-Damien had been more iceb