Page 52 of Relics of the Wolf

“If they’d met me where I’d asked, this wouldn’t have turned into such a debacle.” I slumped down on the couch and, at a finger twirl from Duncan, eased my left arm out of the robe. “I mean… it probably still would have sinceIwas involved, and I totally lost it, but it wouldn’t have happened in front of my home—and the home of three hundred residents.”

“Losingit was understandable.” Duncan perched on the edge of the couch next to me, still stark naked.

If I hadn’t burned Chad’s clothes—literally—I could have offered him something, but they wouldn’t have fit well anyway. Duncan was taller and more muscular than my ex, and my boys had still been on the lanky, if not gangly, side when they’d lived at home. I couldn’t imagine the handful of things they’d left behind fitting him either.

Duncan watched my face as he dabbed the towel over my wound. It stung, but I’d hit the ground and rolled after being shot, so dirt mingled with the blood. Even with the regenerative power of the werewolf, cleaning wounds was a good idea.

When I didn’t respond, Duncan said, “They were shooting at us, and they’re the same brutes that hurt your family.”

“I know.”

It was a half-hearted agreement. It didn’t bother me that I’d changed—Duncan had changed too. It bothered me that I’d lost my sanity—my rational mind—and turned into a killing machine.Again. My history with that was the reason I’d fled from my family all those years ago and started taking the potion. I’d longed to be a normal human woman, for nothing like that ever to happen again. For twenty-six years, it hadn’t. But now… things had changed.I’dchanged.

“It wasn’t even my family they maimed, and I shifted,” Duncan offered.

“You said you don’t have a family.”

“I don’t, but if Idid,their maiming would upset me. It would make me furious.”

I stared at the coffee table. “It was more than fury.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I saw.”

That made me grimace. I appreciated that he’d been there to fight with me, but having a witness to my insanity… I could have done without that.

“I hate how dangerous it is to others when it happens,” I whispered.

“I understand now why you took that potion.”

I grimaced again. Just how insane did I look when I lost it like that?

“When I was growing up, I rarely saw anyone else in my pack go that crazy,” I said. “Completely lose their minds—and control.”

“I’ve gotten that way a couple of times in my life.”

I looked at him, surprised by the admission. From what I’d seen, it was hard to rile him up in humanorwolf form. Maybe he was only saying that to make me feel better.

Duncan shrugged, reading the doubt on my face. “It’s what the werewolf blood does to you, what comes with it. Great power, great stamina, great regenerative ability—” he nodded to my wound, “—but the stronger your magic, the more it can consume you.”

“And turn you into a freak.”

“Usually, that’s what people callme.” Duncan smiled and switched from the towel to gauze from the first-aid kit, pressing it against my wound to stop the bleeding that his cleaning had stirred up again.

“Well, you are… odd.”

He was more than that. I thought of all the warnings people had voiced about him. And, when I’d been in my wolf form, I’d noticed his atypical power for myself. Strange that I remembered that when much of the battle was a blur.

“Yes, I am.” Duncan glanced down, then away. “You might want to, er, cover your… womanly curves.”

Not looking, he waved vaguely toward my chest. The robe had slipped low.

“It’s hard to leave my shoulder bare without other things being bare,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps a blanket.” He looked resolutely at the first-aid kit as he pulled out antibiotic ointment and bandages. “Or…” His gaze shifted to the roll of paper towels on the coffee table.

“I’m not using Brawny to cover up my boobs,” I said tartly. “You’re a lot more naked than I am.”

“Yes, that’s problematic as well. I’m trying not to let myself be inappropriately, er, to have a…” He glanced down.

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