Page 9 of Cold Moon

He was handsome, in a strange, graceful way—like he’d more easily shift into a bird than a wolf. His features were thin, his nose straight and long and his lips were pink and full. His dark eyebrows were expressive, shooting up when he saw me clinging to the bed’s handrail and gasping.

“You could have waited.” His voice ratcheted up with worry.

“I know. But I can do it. I’m fine.” I flashed him a smile, trying to master lungs that couldn’t get enough air.

He didn’t seem convinced.

With force, I shoved myself out of bed and gripped the walker tight. It had soft, squishy holds for my hands along the front and at both sides, but it took effort to get my hands in the right spots.

Skye lurched forward. His hand braced my arm, the other coming around to the small of my back to hold me upright. And—oh. Damn.

The gown was held together by little ties, but it spread with movement in a slit down my back. His warm, soft palm pressed against my skin.

My breath caught, and I stared right at him. His face was close, colored with effort and embarrassment, but the pink in his cheeks was beautiful. Warmth rushed under my own skin, and a flash of white—the glint of the overhead lights off his front teeth—drew my gaze down to his mouth.

He didn’t pull away, just kept his steady hands on me while I leaned my weight on the walker.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “Good. Promise.”

Slowly, he stepped back and let me stand on my own. I didn’t want to. I wanted him to stay close, wouldn’t have minded walking miles if he kept his hand on my back the whole way.

The plan wasn’t that ambitious though.

“Okay.” He stepped back so I could move around the bed. “So we’ll just walk to that wall and back, right? And if that feels okay, we’ll do it again.”

I grinned at him, my arms already aching as I put too much weight on them. “Whatever you say, doc.”

He went even redder, and damn if I didn’t wish he’d ask me for something else. Anything else. Because following his lead was the easiest thing I’d done, maybe ever.

6

Skye

“You sure you don’t want someone to carry it out for you, hon?” Wanda Chadwick asked as she slid the bag of food across the counter. And jeez. I mean, yeah, it was lunch for three wolves, one an alpha, but the question always set my teeth on edge.

Yes, I had the Condition.

But I was still a damned werewolf. I could carry a person. Maybe, um, a small one. I could definitely carry a bag with lunch for three. But snapping at people for offering help made me look like an ungrateful jerk, no matter how tired of it I was. So I smiled and shook my head. “No thanks, Mrs. Chadwick, I can handle it.”

So I hefted the bag in one arm and headed for the barn.

Everyone was still calling it that, even though the actual Sedgwick barn was gone, replaced by the foundation that would one day be Brook and Aspen’s house. I didn’t know anything about building houses, but Brook said they were “framing” now, since the giant concrete bottom thingie was dry enough. The foundation. Or the slab. Something like that.

I just thought it was the most freaking romantic thing ever, that they were building their house together. Even if I didn’t actually want to put on a helmet and hammer nails into wood to make a house.

There was a reason people bought houses pre-made, you know?

It was only half a mile from the Grille, and I tried to walk a good five miles a day, so it wasn’t even out of my way. Because of course, I couldn’t drive.

What if I passed out?

Never mind that I hadn’t done that in years, I still wasn’t allowed to do things that might result in me dying if I fainted. Like drive. Climb ladders. Or ride a bike.

Not that I’d ever learned how to ride a bike, but sometimes it seemed like it would be convenient.

Anyway, I walked down to the barn with the food, waving to Brook and Aspen as I approached, and lifting the bag just a bit, so they’d see I’d brought something. Then I headed for the big one-piece picnic table set up on what would someday be their lawn. For now, I thought it was a sort of command center, since it had stacks of papers that I recognized as blueprints, whether I could read them or not.

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