Page 3 of The Witch's Shifter
Though fear still lingers inside me, I’m less hesitant now as I step toward the man. Kneeling in the leaves a few strides from him, I whisper, “Sir, are you all right?”
He makes no indication of having heard me. His face, partially obscured by his long black hair, is creased into an expression of pain, of suffering.
It makes me hurt for him.
The wounds on his shoulder, chest, and neck are more easily distinguishable now that there’s no black fur hiding them from view. The one on his chest has reopened, and fresh blood patters into the bed of leaves he lies upon.
“Hello?” I say, a bit louder this time.
No response.
Though Harrison hisses behind me, I still reach out to touch the man on the shoulder. His skin is burning hot beneath my fingertips.
“I think he has a fever,” I say. “I need to get him back to the cottage.”
“What?Aurora, you don’t know this... thing.” Harrison’s tone is sharp, edged with fear. “We should leave now, before it wakes up.”
“He needs help.” I look over my shoulder and meet Harrison’s green eyes. “Wouldn’t you want someone to help if you were injured? Or ifIwas?”
He doesn’t say anything to that, just pins his ears back on his head and gives me a disgruntled look.
“I can’t carry him by myself. I need Alden or Rowan. Will you fetch them for me?”
“And leave you here?” Harrison sounds horrified at the prospect.
“I’ll befine. Look, he’s not waking up anytime soon.” To prove my point, I put my hand over the man’s clenched fist and jostle it slightly, careful not to disturb any of his wounds. Yet again, he makes no outward sign of hearing or feeling me. “He’s out cold.”
“If he wakes up—”
“He won’t be able to do much of anything. Look at that wound on his chest. He can barely move. Please, Harrison?”
His eyes glare back into mine. I know he hates the idea of leaving me here, but IneedAlden or Rowan if I want to have any chance of helping this injured man. There’s no way I’m justleaving him out here, especially given how cold our nights are getting as we inch closer to winter with every passing day.
“Please?” I whisper again.
Finally, Harrison takes a step out of the tall grass. His hair is still puffed up. “Don’ttouch it again, and stay a few paces back.”
Nodding, I move out of reach of the man. Harrison seems comforted—if only somewhat—by the distance between us.
“I’ll be back,” he says, and then he dives into the forest and quickly disappears from my sight. The rustling of leaves caused by his passing fades slowly.
With Harrison gone, the forest grows quiet. I turn my gaze back to the man. He looks pained even in sleep, and a sheen of sweat is starting to glisten on his brow.
What happened to you?I wonder.
A cool breeze sweeps through the forest, stirring the leaves upon the forest floor. Some land atop the man, as if the forest is already trying to reclaim him.
Not yet. Not if I have anything to say about it.
“Harrison, please hurry,” I whisper, then take a seat on a fallen tree to wait for someone to arrive.
Chapter 3
Alden
ARMS FULL OF OLD PIECES of trim, I clomp down the steps in the Golden Lantern, then out the door and into the autumn sunlight. There’s a light breeze scented with apple and cinnamon from the bakery down the way. I’m tempted to take a break and go buy whatever it is that smells so good.
After tossing the broken scraps of wood into a pile to be later burned, I prop my hands on my hips and tip my head back, letting the cool air dry the sweat on my brow.
