Page 22 of Howling
It also means she’s probably been on her own for a while now—no guards, no family or friends, no pack.
Females are supposed to be protected and cherished. They shouldn’t have to worry about their safety, forage for their next meal, or stress about where they will find shelter. That’s why males exist. It pisses me off that there is no one to protect her the way she deserves.
“Shit!” Tyler dashes toward the stove almost faster than the eye can track. He hisses when he grabs the hot pan and tosses it into the sink. Steam billows in the air as he turns on the water. Used to his antics, neither Dante nor I move, but the girl grabs his wrist before he can shove his burned hand under the faucet.
“Don’t do that,” she chides, angling his hand into the light to see the injury better. “Never run water over a burn.”
A nasty scorch mark is seared across his palm. Thanks to his shifter genetics, he heals even as we watch. The girl runs a single finger over the repaired flesh, and Tyler shivers at the sensation, his lovesick eyes locked on her face.
Claws slice through my fingertips. I’m jealous of the fucker for such a simple touch, still remembering what her fingers felt like in my fur. It’s all I can do not to cross the room, shove him aside, and demand she touch me instead.
“You need to be more careful.” She clicks her tongue in admonishment and shakes her head. I almost think she’s talking to me until she glances up at Tyler from under her lashes. “We just fixed you up. Your fox needs more rest, or you’re going to end up right back where you started.”
He nods dutifully, flexing his hand as if shocked the injury is gone, glancing between her and his healed flesh with awe. “I haven’t healed that fast in years. How did you do that?”
Avoiding eye contact, the girl shrugs and turns away to pick up her bag that got kicked into the corner during the scuffle. “Oh, you know, I picked up a few things here and there.”
Shifters who are part of a pack are always stronger.
Healing, strength, and speed all increase when you can tap into pack bonds.
The stronger the alpha, the stronger the pack.
Whatever potion she poured into his wound stimulated his healing abilities.
Magic that works on a shifter is practically unheard of.
“You just happened to pick up magic?” I stand but keep my distance, not wanting to intimidate her with my size. Normally, shifters only have enough magic to shift. The stronger the bloodlines, the faster they can shift.
Using any other type of magic is like breathing water—it’s just not possible.
As the mysteries around her deepen, so does my curiosity.
Her golden eyes darken slightly at my question, her expression calculating, and I already know whatever comes out of her mouth next will be a lie.
“You can find a lot of things if you know where to look for them.” She shoulders her bag, like she thinks she’s going to leave.
Tyler holds up both of his hands. “I promised you a home-cooked meal. Give me thirty minutes, and I’ll have a whole feast ready. Please?”
Her expression softens at his pleading, regret darkening her eyes, but before she can refuse, her stomach growls in complaint, as if to remind her it’s empty.
Tyler doesn’t wait for her response. He whirls back toward the fridge, his fox undoubtedly panicked at the thought of her going hungry. As an alpha, the urge to offer food to a female is a compulsion. Our need to provide for them is built into our DNA.
“Foxy—”
“Tyler,” he interrupts, his voice muffled from where his head is stuck in the fridge. When he draws back, I swear the wholecontents of the fridge dangle precariously in his arms. “My name is Tyler.”
We all glance at the girl, waiting to see if she offers her name. He’s the charmer of our group. If anyone can convince her to stay, it would be him. Females see his tragic smile, his earnest expression, and fawn all over him.
It’s not an act, but the wily fox knows how to play it up when the occasion calls for it.
In truth, the sneaky fox is as ruthless as the rest of us, he’s just better at hiding it.
A true trickster.
The girl shoots him an exasperated look, obviously seeing right through his antics, and I have to squash my smile at seeing him being called out.
“How about a rare steak?” He drops the packages onto the counter, quickly organizing the items. “I bet you and your wolf would like a big, fat piece of meat.”
