Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
I spun on my heel and tried not to fall over. Almost drowning had taken a hell of a lot out of me, but I had to push through and get to safety before I could fall apart.
My arm shook as I lifted the knife in his direction again. "So, you are working with them?"
"With who?" His forehead creased, and he lifted a hand. "You can barely walk."
"Don't worry." I took a slow step in his direction and almost pumped my fist in celebration when my knees didn't buckle. Who cared if it took every ounce of concentration to pull it off? Confidence spoke wonders. "I can still kick your ass."
"In fairness, I didn't fight against you," he said and rubbed his nose, emphasizing the crooked section that I'd broken. "You can barely stand, and even though you caught me off guard, I didn't hurt you."
"Stop rambling, and let's get this over with." I didn't want to hear about how pathetic I was. If he was going to force me to leave with him, we could bypass the chitchat.
"Look—" He walked slowly toward me like I was some sort of cornered animal.
Adrenaline coursed through me, making my body a little more sturdy. I swung my arm, trying to slice his chest.
He growled as he jumped back, the sharp edge narrowly missing him. "You need to calm down."
The momentum of missing him threw my body off balance, and I caught myself before I could fall. "Not happening." I stood back on my feet, ready to attack again.
"I'm trying to tell you—" he started, but I jumped toward him.
He spun away from my attack, and I landed hard on my feet, jarring my neck.
Before I could face him again, a hand gripped the wrist that held the knife, and an arm snaked around my neck. He pushed his weight on me so I had to kneel.
Here it was. What I'd been waiting for. My breathing grew rapid as I strained to hear some sign of the others.
"Calm down," Killian commanded. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Really?" I spat. "Because this doesn't feel great." I'd never felt so weak before. I hated the feeling and never wanted to experience it again.
"You obviously have someone hunting you, and you almost drowned." He blew out a breath. "I was trying to be understanding, but you forced my hand."
"Where are the others?" I lifted my head, scanning the woods.
"There are no others," he said exasperatedly. "I keep trying to tell you this. You are safe. No one is here to get you."
I waited for the sulfuric scent of a lie to hit me, but nothing came. "So you came out here alone in human form to fish?"
"Yes." He sighed. "It was my sister's favorite spot."
Was .
She must be dead.
Dad's face flickered in my head. Mom. Zoe . Grief tried to wash over me, but I couldn't let it. At least, not yet. I wasn't safe. "I'm sorry about breaking your nose, but I need to leave."
"I gathered that," he said, but his hold didn't slacken.
"They'll be combing the river, and it won't take long before they get here." Actually, I had no clue where I was. "If you release me, I'll go without causing you any more issues."
His arm loosened slightly. "Are we good now?"
"Yeah." I dropped the knife, letting him know I had no intention of using it.
"Thank God." He let go of me and stood. "Who the hell is chasing you?"
That was a question I had myself. "No clue."
I picked up my knife, making him tense.
"I thought you said we were good." His eyes glowed faintly, his wolf peeking through.
I locked eyes with him as I bent down and placed the knife back in my sheath. "We are, but I'm not going to leave this behind." I placed a hand on a tree trunk, letting it brace my weight as I stood. When I felt steady enough on my feet, I strolled farther into the woods.
The sooner I moved out of the area, the faster my scent would dissipate, which would make finding me harder.
"Hey, wait up," Killian called as I heard him run back to the river.
There was no way I was waiting. Considering how slow I was moving, he'd be able to catch up to me in no time.
No matter how much I pushed myself, my speed never increased. I bet a freaking turtle could have beaten me.
"Of course she didn't wait for me," he grumbled. "She's too damn headstrong, like Olive." He trudged in my direction.
In a matter of seconds, he caught up to me, his fishing pole slung over his shoulder. He bit his bottom lip. "So, where are you heading?"
"I shouldn't tell you." If somehow they figured out he’d run into me, they'd torture him for information. "The less you know, the safer you'll be."
"Okay, so, if you don’t know who, do you know why they’re after you?" He slowed his pace to walk beside me.
"Once again, best if you don't know." What was with all the questions? "So, where exactly am I?"
"You don't know?" He pursed his lips. "How long were you out?"
I couldn't keep the venom out of my words. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking where I was now, would I?" I grimaced, immediately regretting biting his head off. I blew a raspberry. "Look, I'm sorry."
A smile flitted on his face. "For what exactly? Punching me in the gut, breaking my nose, trying to stab me, or being rude?"
Ouch . "In fairness, I thought you were an attacker. So, in this instance, I'm purely talking about biting your head off."
He chuckled. "Fair enough."
"Is withholding information my punishment?" I felt comfortable around him, which was odd. Normally, when I was around other wolf shifters, I got nervous and anxious, afraid I'd slip up and give them a hint of what I was.
"Maybe." He waggled his eyebrows. "But in all seriousness, you've landed in Shadow Ridge."
My shoulders sagged with relief. No way. Could I actually have gotten this lucky? Granted, after a day like today, I deserved some kind of break. "The bordering wolf shifter town to Shadow City?"
"The very one." He tilted his head. "You seem relieved."
"I am." I guessed there was no point in not telling him now. Maybe he could help me. "I was instructed to come to Shadow City, so all I need to do is get there."
"You do realize you can't go into the city without permission, right?" He wrung the hem of his shirt as if getting the excess water out would improve his situation.
"Atticus Bodle will see me." That had to be why Dad had mentioned the alpha's name. He'd be my ticket inside.
"Uh." He scratched the back of his neck. "Atticus won't be able to help you."
My stomach dropped. "Why?" Something bad must have happened. That must have been why Dad hadn't heard from him the past couple of years. "Is he in trouble?"
"That's one way of putting it." Killian cleared his throat. "He died almost two years ago."'
This day kept getting worse and worse. "No." That was my entire plan. I'd banked everything on getting into the city and seeing Atticus. I hadn't even considered the possibility that Dad's instructions would have a flaw. He always knew what to do, but as of today, that officially had changed. The worst part was I didn't have him here to counsel me. "That's not possible."
"I assure you it is." He nibbled on his bottom lip. “Shadow City residents that attended his funeral saw his dead body. It was open casket."
“You didn’t attend?” My stomach tightened even more.
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not allowed inside yet. They’re slowly opening the city.”
"How did he die?" I asked, even though the answer wouldn't help my situation.
He huffed. "Heart attack."
I must have misheard him. There was no way. "Wasn't he young?" Shifters lived to be well over a hundred, and Dad had made it sound like Atticus was only a couple of years his senior. A heart attack was very unusual.
"That's what made it so shocking." Killian took a few steps. "But being the alpha in Shadow City is a tough job. From what I’ve been told, navigating pack politics and trying to represent all the shifter races fairly while working with the council members is more stressful than anyone can imagine. The extreme stress made his heart give out."
I stopped in my tracks as my stomach dropped. I had nowhere to go. No plan to execute.
Nothing.
My heart pounded. My head spun, and my throat closed.
"Hey!" Killian said. "What's wrong?"
Not able to respond, I tried to focus on filling my lungs, but it was like my body had frozen.
"Girl." He grumbled to himself, "I don't even know her name."
I bent my knees, not able to stand upright any longer. I had to get control of this panic attack or I’d pass out again, but I didn't know how to. I'd never felt this pathetic before.
"This is going to hurt me more than it'll hurt you," he said.
A hard slap hit the side of my face. The sting broke through the suffocating haze. I sucked in a breath, filling my lungs.
"Are you okay?" He leaned over me as he examined my face.
"No, I'm not." The severity of the truth blasted like a bomb. I shouldn't have admitted it, but he would've known if I had lied. "Atticus was my only hope. I don't have any money or even clothing to my name. I don't know what to do." Here I was, pouring my heart out to a stranger, but it somehow felt right.
"Well, then I guess it's a damn good thing I found you." He brushed my cheek where he'd slapped me. His fingers were rough and warm.
I'd never been touched like that by anyone except my parents, but the different sensations I'd expected to feel didn't come. "What do you mean?"
"My best friend might be able to help you." He winked at me. "And I have a huge house all to myself."
"You own a house?" I asked with disbelief. He couldn't be that much older than me, but that didn’t mean anything. Since I’d lived in such a small, close-knit community where generations of families lived together in the same house, anyone getting their own house was a big deal. Living situations were probably quite different outside of our hidden little world.
His face creased. "I inherited it when my family died three years ago."
Tears burned my eyes. "I’m so sorry. I lost my family too." And if I didn't start moving, I'd break down. The poor guy had already seen me ridden with anxiety and weak from almost drowning. I didn't need to add emotionally broken to that. Maybe I could push my breakdown out another hour.
He easily kept pace with me as the backside of a neighborhood came into sight through the trees. The houses appeared to be craftsman style, and one of them had a large pool in the backyard.
He frowned. "How long ago?"
"Earlier today." My voice ached with sadness. "The men chasing me—they killed everyone. My dad told me to run and find Atticus. That's why I came all the way here and why I thought you wanted to catch me."
"Well, that settles it." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You'll be staying with me."
"I couldn't." I didn't want to be a burden. "That's asking way too much."
"First off, you didn't ask." He held up one finger then added a second. "And second, you have nowhere to go. You’re not in the best of health since you almost drowned, and you have no money to your name. Not to mention, people are hunting you." He touched my arm. "And honestly, it gets lonely in the house, but I can't seem to get myself to move. You'd be keeping me company."
The word yes was on the tip of my tongue, but I didn't want to take advantage of him. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah." He waved a hand in front of me. "Besides, you're soaking wet. You won't be able to go anywhere without raising some eyebrows."
He was right. I wouldn't be able to go anywhere unnoticed, not that I had money anyway. "Okay, but I don't want anyone to know about me or what happened to my family." If word of that got out, it could help whoever was hunting me locate me.
"Got it. You can trust me." He led me to the yard that had the large in-ground pool with a diving board and water slide. "This is our stop."
"You live close." His fishing spot on the riverbank was only about a mile from his home.
He walked past the pool and up some brick stairs leading to a covered back porch. Thankfully, the porch’s floor was cement, so I wouldn't ruin anything by dripping all over it.
"Let me grab you a towel, and I'm pretty sure my sister's clothes will fit you." He opened the door, which had been left unlocked.
"Your sister?" I cringed, thinking about wearing his dead sister’s clothes. "Are you sure?”
"Yeah. I mean, they should do someone some good." His shoulders sagged, and he smiled sadly. "I'll be right back." He slipped inside, leaving me alone.
A chill ran down my spine, and I turned to face the woods. I rubbed my arms and assessed my surroundings. I needed to get a feel for the area and devise an escape plan in case they found me here. I couldn't stay and put innocent lives at risk.
The house next door appeared to have the same layout as this one, but instead of the hunter-green color of Killian's, it was pure white. A large fire pit had been dug out back with beer cans scattered around. Whoever lived there must be a drinker, or maybe they had people over routinely. That could be a good thing though—it would mix my smell with several others and help to obscure it.
Killian's footsteps grew closer to the door, and I turned as it opened.
He had changed into a white shirt and jeans. After handing me a large beach towel, he gestured through a pristine kitchen, past the wide-open living room with a picture of him and his family hanging above the couch, toward a hallway on the other end of the house. "If you go to the second room on the left, that's Olive’s room. You can go through her closet and pick out something to change into. When you're done, come on out, and we'll get something to eat."
"Thank you." Even if I wanted to argue, I couldn't. He was being generous and helping me. I toweled off as best I could and hurried to the bedroom.
Inside, I shut the door and laid my head against it. I expected the grief to hit again, but numbness filled me instead.
Good . First step, get dry . I pulled off my clothes and walked toward the white queen-size canopy bed with a plum comforter, noting the matching white end tables and dresser. The walls were lavender, almost the shade of the purple of my eyes. The shaggy cream carpet felt amazing under my feet as I padded to the closet beside the bed.
As I surveyed the room, a picture on the end table caught my attention. It was of a younger Killian and a girl who must be his sister at the embankment, fishing together. They could almost pass for twins. Killian had his arm slung over her shoulders.
The fact that he’d lost his own family and now had found me had to be fate. We could both understand the pain of loss.
Choosing not to wear her underwear, I slipped on a thick black shirt and gray sweatpants. My stomach gurgled, and I grabbed my wet clothes and the towel then headed back to the kitchen.
Killian was nowhere to be seen, so I placed my clothes on the glass circular kitchen table and used the towel to dry the water I’d dripped on the hardwood floors. I’d squatted to finish wiping the floor when I heard him outside on the back porch.
"Hey, man," he whispered. "Yeah, I'm not going to make it tonight. Something came up."
Great, I was already interfering with his social life. I would have felt bad, but he had insisted on me staying.
After a moment, he spoke again. "Yeah, there's this girl I want to tell you about."
No . He’d promised he wouldn't tell a soul.