Page 7 of Wounded Mate
Hope sparks in my chest. “You know him? His name is Andras?”
“Yes, and yes. Didn’t I just say as much?” He lets out an exasperated huff and stands. “Wiggle your toes.”
I do, and a wave of relief courses through me. “Where is he?”
“Save the questions for later. Can you get up?”
I glance down at my bloody side. I’ve been too afraid to take a peek, and seeing it for the first time brings a wave of nausea that threatens to overtake me. Blood and gristle. Dirt and torn flesh. A bit of white.
Is that a bone? I’m going to throw up.
Hurriedly, I look away and try to roll over to all fours, but it’s agony. “I can’t.”
“Hmm, unfortunate. Be still, you’ve gone all white. You’re too big for me to carry alone. I’ll have to go for help. In the meantime”—he waggles his finger at me—“be a good pup. Sit. Stay.”
I ignore the dog jabs. I wouldn’t expect any different from a cat. But I don’t want to be alone again. Fear surges through my veins, enough for me to ignore the pain and try again. But it’s no use.
I’m too shaky. Too weak. “What if they come back while you’re gone?”
“They won’t. They’re lazy, and it’s nearly dawn. They’re all sleeping it off by now.”
“Please don’t go.” I hate how desperate I sound.
His expression softens. He kneels again. “Bela, you’re going to be all right.”
I find that hard to believe.
“The wounds have stopped bleeding. Your heartbeat is strong. I can get you to safety, but you’re much bigger than me. It’s too far for me to bear your weight. And someone in town will notice if one naked man is carrying another naked man covered in blood through the streets.”
He’s right. Of course he is.
But I can’t help my fear. I let out an embarrassing whimper I’ll deny once I’m out of the woods.
“I’ll run,” he says. “Fast as I can. Promise.” He pats my shoulder, even though he looks disgusted to touch me.
I don’t blame him. Everyone’s disgusted to touch me.
“I’m Leonas. You’ll be safe with me.”
I want to trust him. Desperately. But trusting people has done me no favors in the past.
“I’ll return very soon.” He steps back, rolls his neck, and within seconds, transforms into a sleek black panther. The muscles of his hind end bunch, rippling beneath ebony fur, and he leaps. His paws slap the forest floor and fade away.
I’m alone again.
I hope he comes back as he promised. I hope the other wolves don’t show up in his absence. I hope he meant what he said about the other mongrel.
Andras.
I finally have a name, and that’s more than I started with.
Maybe someday I’ll be able to call the man friend.
Chapter Five
Valius
Jenoand I are busy discussing what to do when the upper door slams open, hinges squeaking, and we turn our heads in unison.
