Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
GARRETT
Ifucking hate how slowly Angel moves, her wolf’s every step stiff and pained. The path I chose through the woods isn’t easy, but the humans can’t follow.
With the snow coming down hard, I’m not sure how long she’ll be able to keep going.
Part of me questions if I should have stolen the human’s truck.
At least up front, she would have stayed warm.
But the very idea of her having to breathe in their stench longer than she already has unnerved me.
And there’s the all-too-real likelihood that they’d be able to track their vehicle.
The more time I spend with Angel, the more protective I become of her. I’ve never formed such a strong connection with another shifter, not even Marla. Not this fast. I wonder if it’s because Angel’s so vulnerable.
My wolf snorts, his condescension as painful as one of his bites. He thinks I’m underestimating her, that she’s stronger than she appears. She is. After all, she survived the WSSO, for—and I’m guessing based on the age and severity of her wounds—months. Very few shifters can say that.
If I could carry her out of these mountains, I would, but the snow’s getting deeper and the temperature is dropping. Without the proper clothing, she wouldn’t survive in human form. Hell, I’m not sure she’ll survive even in wolf form.
This time my wolf bites me outright. I’m recognizing a pattern with him. He doesn’t tolerate my negative thinking.
I glance back at Angel, concerned by the distance building between us. She’s following my lead, without complaint or hesitation, as if she trusts me. Like Marla trusted me.
I wish she wouldn’t. That will only get her killed.
Angel’s wolf falters in the snow, goes down headfirst, and struggles to rise. I leap to her side and wedge my snout under her belly, lifting her upright. She holds the stance despite her shaking legs.
She needs to rest, but we need to keep moving, putting distance between us and WSSO Facility #23, a place I will be returning to with my pack mates. Assuming Damien doesn’t skin my hide for disobeying him.
With a nudge from my snout, I guide Angel under the canopy of thick branches where the falling snow won’t reach her. She can rest while I scout for shelter to wait out the storm.
Angel’s wolf lumbers off and settles beneath the pine.
Damn, but her wolf’s a beauty, light silver fur that nearly blends with the pure white snow falling around her.
Intense blue eyes follow me, as if they’ll never turn away.
That makes my wolf want to howl. Me too.
And I would, if we weren’t still too close to the humans.
Instead of letting my wolf race off to seek shelter, I force him to stay with Angel if only for a minute. I rest my wolf’s head atop hers, exposing my throat. It’s a small gesture, but she’ll understand that nothing will keep me from returning for her.
Her head lifts. An acknowledgement. That’s all I need.
Energized with the knowledge that she’s counting on me, I race through the snow and head southeast, the direction of home.
Miles and miles… nothing except a scent I can’t identify.
One that I’ve picked up twice now, as if someone or something is following us.
The fact that I left Angel alone unnerves me.
I turn back, pouring more energy than I should into reaching her faster.
I’ve failed to find shelter, but I won’t let her die.
I’ll use my own damn body to warm her, keep her alive, no matter how much snow falls on top of me.
The heavy snow quickly turns to ice as high winds batter the area. Only when I turn east do I catch the faint smell of smoke. While I hate the idea of bringing Angel near any humans, I need to get her out of the storm.
With the storm blocking out the sun, I’ve lost all sense of time.
Worry over Angel weighs on me and I’m about to turn back when I find a lone hunting cabin with warm embers in the fireplace.
The snow has all but completely covered the tire tracks leading out of here.
The humans who were here won’t be back, not in this storm.
When I return to Angel, she doesn’t lift her head. She’s too damn tired. I lick the side of her muzzle, trying to get her to follow me, but she doesn’t.
As I shift to human form, I curse the storm and extreme cold, but especially myself for not finding the cabin sooner. If I linger, we’ll both freeze to death out here.
When I bend to lift her still form, her wolf bares her teeth at me. “Hell, no. I’m not leaving you here.” I lift her into my arms, despite the snap of her teeth.
Her wolf quiets quickly enough and leans her head against my chest. I’m slower on foot, and freezing my ass off, but my wolf knows what’s at risk.
He’s keeping me as warm as he can. It takes extra energy with no clothing to shield me from the icy wind, but he understands.
For the first time in months, we’re in sync, our thoughts flowing seamlessly between us.
All because of the precious bundle in my arms.