Chapter 5
5
M y head is spinning and I’m flat on my back when Nathan’s face appears over mine.
His expression is a mix of bewildered, amused, and shocked.
“You pushed me down a hill.”
I wince. “But only to save you.”
He nods, then lies back down beside me.
I watch him for a beat. “Nathan?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?” I feel terrible for shoving him, but I had to.
He blows out a breath and heaves himself upright. “I guess.”
Then he winces.
“What?” I spring to my feet and grab his arm as guilt eats me alive. “Are you hurt?”
He glances down at his left ankle and rolls it, then winces again. “Uh, yeah. I must have landed on it funny.”
I cover my face with both hands. “Oh God. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. Or I did think but not long enough. Martha says I need to think longer before I act or not act instead of thinking longer.” I peel my hands away to look at him. He’s leaning on a tree, head tilted, smiling faintly as he studies me. “I can be impulsive.”
He slowly nods. “Yeah, me too.”
I look at his ankle again. “Can you walk, or should I help you?”
He takes a step and his face scrunches up in pain.
I dart toward him, wrapping an arm around his waist and trying not to notice his muscles. Now is not the time to be noticing those when I nearly killed the guy. “Here. Lean on me. Let’s get out of here.”
Before Adrian follows us down here.
“So who is after you?” Nathan asks, proving to be a mind reader as he rests his weight on me.
I guide him away from the road, deeper into the forest.
Do I have any clue where I’m going? Nope.
Is a small part of me worried about running into a bear? A little.
Will I hope for the best that things will work out in the end? Sure.
“Clara?” Nathan prompts me.
I debate lying until I remember how I nearly broke his leg by shoving him down a hill. It could have been worse. Much, much worse.
What if I broke his neck? We can heal from most things, but a broken neck will do the job on a shifter as it would on a regular human.
Nathan deserves answers. Not just because I nearly killed him. The guy followed me from Dawley, was prepared to sleep outside my motel room, and has been determined to keep me safe.
I start talking. “There was an alpha in Minnesota back when Martha and I were traveling. I know what you’re thinking. Nothing interesting ever goes down in Minnesota. I thought it too. I guess that’s why we both had our guards down.”
The corners of his eyes crease as he laughs. “That is not what I was thinking. You seem shorter now I’m leaning on you.”
I peer up at him. “Martha says it’s my big mouth. Makes me seem bigger. Kinda like how you think the Mona Lisa is going to be massive, but it’s so small.”
His eyes widen as he peers down at me. “You’ve seen the Mona Lisa?”
“Only on TV. Martha and I watched a documentary when they said how big it was. I spent twenty minutes looking for a tape measure in our car because Martha was convinced I’d misheard. She told me to wait until the morning, but I had a point to prove. Who cares that it was 2 a.m.?”
He grins at me, and I realize, not for the first time, how easy it is to talk to Nathan. When I’m not actively trying to lie to him, that is.
“So this Minnesota alpha…” he prompts.
“He tricked Martha into believing he was a good guy.” I stop guiding Nathan, gulping when I think of how bad things could have gone. He wanted to grab me. But what about Martha? What would he have done to my sister? “He was not a good guy.”
“And he’s after you?”
Nodding, I keep moving. “But Adrian—that’s his name, by the way—sent enforcers to Dawley and they grabbed Martha and nearly killed her. He must have sent more because Ty and Jackson killed those enforcers. Now they want to kill you and instead I nearly kill you by shoving you down a mountain.”
“It was more of a hill than a mountain,” Nathan says mildly.
“But it doesn’t change what I did,” I cry.
He makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sniff. If I hadn’t just pushed him down a hill, I’d think he was sniffing my hair as he rests even more of his weight on me.
I’m rambling my way through yet another apology when two things occur to me.
One, shifters heal fast. A twisted ankle or sprain is nothing to recover from. And two, the foot that Nathan is hobbling on has changed.
I wrench myself away from his side and point an accusatory finger at his ankle. “You’re hobbling on the wrong foot.”
He looks down. “Am I?”
“It was your left ankle.” I glare.
He whistles between his teeth. “Guess I forgot.”
And he starts walking perfectly normally.
“I can’t believe you did that.” I jog to catch up. “You could’ve broken my back with all that weight you were resting on me. You’re like 6’3. I’m 5’3 and a quarter.”
His right cheek dimples. “A quarter?”
“That quarter counts. Don’t try to change the subject, Blackshaw.”
“Well, you let me carry you before when you pretended to twist your ankle, so you can hardly talk. I just leaned on you.”
I snap my mouth shut because he does have a point.
He turns to look at me, and his expression is more serious than I’d expected. “You don’t trust me to keep you safe.”
“What?”
He nods. “That’s what the push down the mountain?—”
“It was more of a hill you said,” I remind him.
“I did.” He closes the distance between us, still serious. “You don’t trust I can keep you safe.”
“I didn’t say that.” I turn to walk away before he can see my guilt. It’s not that I don’t trust him. I don’t want to be responsible for someone else getting hurt.
Not again.
It’s been near-miss after near-miss. I don’t want the next attack to be fatal.
“But you think it,” he calls after me.
I keep walking. I’m not even sure where I’m going—not that I ever did—but as long as it’s away from the road and not towards it, I couldn't care less.
“ Clara !”
I walk faster.
I gasp when he grips my wrist and twists me to face him.
My head is spinning when he steps in, caging me against the tree. I’d yell at him for it, but he looks strangely hurt.
“You don’t think I can look after you,” he says softly.
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?” he growls.
As I debate whether I want to lie or pretend this is a big joke, there’s still that echo of pain in him I can’t shake loose. I don’t want to lie or laugh this off. I want to stop him from hurting.
“Martha nearly died because of me,” I say quietly.
A flicker of understanding passes across his face. “And you think you’re to blame for that?”
I twist my fingers together, looking down. “I was to blame for it. Adrian sent his enforcers to Dawley to get me.” I swallow hard as the back of my eyelids burn. “Martha shoved me away, told me to run, and they grabbed her instead. They were holding her hostage and they could have tortured her to get me.”
And it would have worked. They wouldn’t have needed to do a thing to Martha. I’d have taken her place in a heartbeat. But I know Martha. She’s overprotective as hell. She would die before she let anyone hurt me, which is why I ran away.
I can’t let her keep putting herself in danger.
Nathan says nothing for the longest time. Then he smooshes my face against his chest.
Well, maybe not exactly smooshes, but you try thinking straight when a hot guy presses your face to his rock hard abs. It isn’t easy.
“What are you doing?” I ask around a mouthful of cotton.
“Holding you.”
I successfully peel my face away and peer up at him. “Why?”
He winks. “I just thought you might need a hug.”
“You suffocated me with your shirt.” I say nothing about the hard muscle I tried not to notice. And I failed. Miserably . “I nearly died.”
He chuckles. “Died. Right. It’s okay if you want to say you appreciated my hug.”
“I did not appreciate being suffocated by your shirt, Nathan.” I narrow my eyes and sniff, channeling outraged woman. “Don’t do it again.”
His eyes dart to my lips and his gaze turns hungry. “Are you sure? Any thoughts yet on this kiss we’re going to have?”
“We’re not going to have any such kiss.”
“We will.”
“We will—” A wet snarl silences me.
I freeze at the faint sound of claws scraping along stone.
I’m not sure I even breathe.
Wolf.
Nathan is unnaturally still as he sniffs, then angles his head slightly to the left.
I smell them too. Shifters creeping toward us.
“Stay behind me, Clara.” Nathan speaks out of the side of his mouth, his lips barely moving.
My back stiffens. “I will not?—”
I grunt as he nudges me back and whirls around. His hand flashes out, a wolf howls, and the copper tang of blood fills the air.
Four wolves circle us. Two are brown, one is a blond with reddish highlights, and the last is gray. The dark gray wolf with gold eyes that smells bloodied, drops back farther than the rest. Probably to give himself a chance to heal before another attack. They weave a tight, slow circle around my tree.
Nathan is standing directly in front of me. His head doesn’t move, but I imagine he’s tracking the shifters' movements. None of them can get to me. They would have to go through Nathan first.
“Nathan. Move . I can help,” I hiss.
“I’ve got this,” he replies coolly.
“How?” I hiss back. “You can’t shift.”
He won’t have time before those shifters attack and neither do I. All because we were too busy arguing to notice they were ambushing us.
Thunk .
I squeal as something rams the tree directly behind me, shaking leaves over my head. A snarl erupts, and I whip my head to the side as one of the big brown wolves lunges.
Nathan growls, an echo of pain in the sound coming from his throat.
Blood drips from his arm as the wolf flies back.
“Nathan?” I hiss.
“Just a scratch,” he says calmly.
Tension radiates up his back as the slow drip of blood hitting leaves on the ground makes him a liar.
Some scratch, I mentally snort. But this is no time to argue.
I prepare to shove him aside so we can fight side by side. It won’t be enough, but I’m not about to lay down and die without giving it everything I have.