Page 6 of Cultivating Caden
Several heartbeats passed and the noises in the forest grew louder. Grunts, like someone choking, had Caden forcing his eyes open again, and what he saw blew his mind. A wolf being held by… trees. No, not a wolf. Caden wasn’t even sure what the hell he’d call it. Long, dark hair covered its body, but what should have been claws looked more like hands that ended in talons. And the muzzle wasn’t as long as the wolves he’d seen on Animal Planet. It was scrunched, like someone had punched it, but the teeth were still perfectly visible. And its eyes were the weirdest. They seemed… human.
Of course. Why not? First a gang of men threatens to rape him, and now some kind of weird wolf hybrid was looking like he wanted to rip out Caden’s throat. Everything he’d been holding inside burst out, and he slumped to the ground in tears. He just wanted it to be over. He had no idea what was happening, but was it wrong that he wished it would end quickly?
The trees groaned, and a moment later, the wolf creature stood on two legs, hovering over Caden. It was fine—it’d kill him, probably eat him, and then the pain would be gone. He didn’t want to die, but if that was the way it had to be….
Imagine his surprise when a hand touched his head, stroked his hair, and murmured that everything would be okay.
Since when could wolves talk?
* * *
“How’s he doing?”
The tech glanced up from his laptop and shrugged at Quade. “Could be better, could be worse. Doctor Desmond and Ten have been in to see him, so that helped. He’s been lying there for the past hour, doing his best to stay still so we don’t know he’s awake. I can tell you, he’s scared. I’ve never seen anyone as frightened as him.”
Quade looked over to the table where Caden lay, his eyes squeezed shut. He couldn’t imagine what kind of pain Caden was going through. The people here were the best, though. His wounds had already been tended to, and they’d faded enough to appear weeks old instead of days. Still, it bothered Quade to see the bruises that, despite the excellent care, would still require time to heal completely. He wasn’t sure why either. He’d never cared for any of his targets before, but Caden was different.
Even if Quade’s wolf continued to howl for Caden’s blood. It had been lashing against the walls Quade erected in his mind to contain it, demanding to be free, to finish their job. Never had the wolf been so forceful that Quade got a headache from it, but right now, his head throbbed.
“Can I see him?”
“Sure. Go ahead.” He turned back to his work.
Quade sauntered over, keeping his pace slow and steady, not wanting to alarm Caden, but as he neared, Caden twitched and a powerful stench of fear hit Quade’s nose.
“I know you’re awake. You can open your eyes. No one here is going to hurt you.”
Still, Caden didn’t move.
“Would it help if I promised?”
Still no response, so Quade grabbed a chair from a nearby desk and dragged it over to the bed. He sat beside Quade, close enough to let him know he was there, but far enough away to tone down the overwhelming terror.
“So, come here often?” He chuckled, mostly to cover his own nerves. “Okay, lame question, I know. It’s just…. I don’t know what to say to you. I know you said those men hurt you, and I truly believe that. But what I don’t understand is what happened to them.”
Caden’s scent changed. Now it was fear tinged with regret and pain and sorrow. After thirty years, Quade’s senses were sharp enough that he could tell Caden wasn’t feeling guilt, but more the aftereffects of what happened.
Deciding to take a chance, Quade reached out and let his fingers touch Caden’s hand. A sharp inhale cued him in that Caden was on the edge.
“Open your eyes, Caden. Look at me. I swear to you, no one here will hurt you. I know you don’t know me yet, but I give you my word. You’re safe here.”
It took several long, drawn-out moments, but Caden’s breathing slowed. The fear was still there, but not as overwhelming.
“That’s it. Trust me. Open your eyes. Please?”
Quade counted heartbeats as time ticked by. At seventeen, he saw the lids of Caden’s eyes raise and was graced with stunning green iris held in a corona that reminded Quade of the forest. Even his pupil was dark like jade and became progressively lighter as it expanded outward, then all rimmed in a black ring. It was what Quade had heard referred to as a sprite ring. Eyes so deep, once you were ensnared in their gaze, you could never find your way out again. It chilled him to his core as his wolf lay down, paws over his snout, and whined.
“My name is Quade.”
Caden squinted. “Are you a werewolf?”
If any other person said it, Quade would bite their heads off—maybe literally—but when Caden asked, Quade’s wolf was amused. Quade had no clue what brought about the change from a slavering beast demanding blood to an almost puppylike state, but his headache eased and the tension drained from him. He couldn’t believe it as his wolf rolled on its back, tongue lolling out. Never had he heard of such a thing. Lycans were, by nature, vicious beasts. Even mating was a brutal affair, with blood and guts. Quade used to joke that it was about as romantic as a Klingon ritual. That joke fell flat with the First. Oh well, sucked to be him.
“I prefer lycan, if you don’t mind.”
Caden’s brow furrowed. “I thought that was a dream.”
“No, sorry, definitely not a dream. I wish I could say it was and that nothing was wrong, but unfortunately, everything you remember happening really did.”
