Page 10 of Howling
The worst thing I can do is catch feelings for anyone. Not only would it put me in danger, it would be a death sentence for him if anyone from Kyperian discovered it. Then I notice the old bruising under his skin. Almost every inch of his body is mapped with it. Walking around him, I notice more and more injuries.
“These are weeks old,” I murmur, unaware I’m speaking out loud.
“What can I say?” He flashes me a wink. “I’m a popular guy.”
I stop looking at his body, unamused by his attempt to distract me. “Regular beatings will slow down your healing. Over time, it will wear your fox out. Your senses will dull, your speed will slow, and you’ll become tired. You’ll become prey.”
A heavy sigh escapes him, his shoulders droop, and he scrubs his face with his hand. “I do my best to avoid drawing attention to myself, dressing conservatively in jeans and a T-shirt, taking different routes home, not flashing cash. I keep my head down and nose out of trouble. I’m usually able to escape with only a beating or two a week, but it’s impossible to avoid them completely when they search you out.”
I probe his injuries as he speaks, noting the tender spots, the brutal scrapes, and hundreds of bruises. When I run my fingers along his ribs, he grunts, and I know at least two of them are broken. I glance at the supplies on the counter, but none of them are going to help.
“Don’t be sad.” The fox flashes me a wan smile, wincing slightly when he grabs his shirt and pulls it back over his head. “I’ll live.”
I glance down at my bag, nibbling on my bottom lip as I debate the wisdom of doing something stupid.
“Why don’t you sit while I start supper?” He flashes me another bright smile, practically prancing toward the fridge. It’s only when I take a seat on the stool he vacated that he opens the ancient fridge and buries his head inside.
My gaze is drawn again and again to my bag, my wolf nudging me hard enough that I have to grit my teeth to hold her back. She’s kicking up a fuss, insisting we help him, and I nibble on my bottom lip with indecision. My magical signature is small, but even the tiniest trace can be deadly with the Orion on my trail.
When he winces simply moving around the kitchen, my wolf snarls in frustration, and I finally relent. Because she’s right—neither of us likes seeing him in pain.
It’s not like we’re staying.
I’ll heal him, eat quickly, then leave.
Even if they trace me here, I’ll be long gone.
I reach down and slip my hand into my bag, digging around for a small vial. A growl rumbles from the doorway to the backyard, stealing my attention. I still, my gaze flicking up, and I catch the sight of a massive beast standing in the doorway.
I would say wolf, but I’ve never seen one so large and primal that it defies logic.
He bares his fangs at me, a rope of drool dripping from his muzzle, murder turning his blue eyes completely black. Logic tells me it’s a shifter, no animal is that big in the wild, but his human self is buried so deep that I can barely pick him out, the man submerged beneath all the rage.
The beast is a gorgeous midnight black that shimmers blue under the light. While I’m reaching down, hunkered over on the stool, he towers over me, and I estimate he would stand nearly to my shoulders if I were on my feet. It’s only when he takes a menacing step toward me that my self-preservation instincts kick into gear.
I don’t dare turn away from the beast, not wanting to draw its attention to the fox. While I might be able to take the wolf in a fight, the fox would be nothing but puppy chow.
“Foxy…I want you to stay very still.” I switch my grip, grabbing the familiar handle of my Carpathian blade nestled at the bottom of the bag. The weapon is ancient and something only granted to the highest warriors of Kyperian. Grampa Givvens slipped it into my bag right before I left, knowing I would need it to survive what was coming.
It’s my last remaining connection to him and an item I treasure above all else.
The weapon is an amalgamation of the three main powers—shifter essence, vampire blood, and a witch’s heart. The combination of the three species working together binds the metals, giving it the power to kill anything it encounters. Some blades are whispered to be powerful enough to even cut through spells. The swirling pattern of the metal is similar to what humans call Damascus steel, but it’s even more indestructible.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” The fox wrings his hands, his already white face blanching. “Garth, no! Bad doggie!”
My brain turns to static at his admonishments, and I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes, unwilling to take my attention off the threat for even a heartbeat. Though Foxy sounds like he knows the wolf, assumptions get you killed. I won’t risk his life that way, not when the wolf has a feral glint in his eyes. “Foxy…do what I say.”
I was so distracted by the fox and his injuries that I didn’t even sense the wolf nearby—a stupid rookie mistake. Now that I’m on my own, mistakes like that can kill. I tense, my muscles coiling, ready to spring at the wolf, determined to give Foxy time to escape.
“Why don’t you release whatever weapon you have in the bag and lift your arms? Slowly.” The sardonic voice is low andgravelly, the tone hitting my primitive brain in a way that makes me want to obey and spread my legs at the same time.
A glance behind the giant wolf reveals a blond Adonis standing in the doorway. His slate blue eyes are harsh, his broad shoulders almost too wide for his slim form. His hair is shaggy, a little too long for fashion. The strands are slightly oily, giving him an unkempt appearance and a just fucked vibe. A dark scruff, more of a permanent five o’clock shadow, darkens his jaw. He would almost be handsome, if not for his expression—the man is a raging asshole.
Instead of calling off the beast, he raises a challenging eyebrow, then crosses his arms and leans against the doorjamb like he has all the time in the world. While my wolf craves the attention from the alpha and preens for the infuriating cuntasaurus, my lips curl in disgust.
Eww, no.
I’ve been around men like him my whole life, people who value their own wants and needs above everyone else, and I don’t want anything to do with someone who thinks they are better than others. Sniffing the air, I try to sense his beast, hoping it might give me an advantage…only I don’t recognize the earthy scent.
