Chapter Two
The Naked Guy in the Woods
Of all the reckless, idiotic things Bryon could possibly have done, shifting in this woman’s presence was at the top of the list.
In his defense, he’d been trying not to scare her. He’d seen the look of terror on her face as she stared at his wolf form, and so he’d done the only thing he could think of in that situation, shifting back to his more familiar, less threatening human form in spite of the pain flaring in his foot.
Too bad it hadn’t exactly worked out. Judging from the way her eyes widened, he’d only managed to make matters worse.
You should’ve stayed a wolf, said a voice in his head. How are you going to explain this?
The pair of them stared at each other for the next few seconds in almost complete silence, the only sound being the leaves rustling as a gentle breeze blew around them.
Bryon took a long look at the woman, and his stomach did a tiny backflip, making him forget for one brief moment the glass shard that was in his foot.
She was beautiful—no, stunning, was a more befitting word.
The woman’s blonde hair streaked with red fluttered gently around her head.
A blue bathrobe hung from her shoulders over checked pajamas, and she wore pink bunny slippers on her feet.
She looked like she’d just rolled out of bed, although the leaves and twigs in her hair told a different story.
Her round blue eyes were fixed on him, as though she expected him to make a sudden move.
He bit back a wince as the pain in his foot flared.
Dammit.
If he’d been more careful, he wouldn’t be here right now; he’d still be searching for the foal. He hadn’t taken a good look at his injury yet, but he didn’t need to see it to know that the shard was lodged deep in his foot.
Great way to start the day, he thought sarcastically. I haven’t even had breakfast yet.
He blinked at the woman. Had she been running? The question popped into his mind. What was she even doing here? It was way too early for anyone to be venturing into these woods—himself being the exception, of course.
His mind worked rapidly in an attempt to analyze the situation. The woman didn’t look familiar. Most likely, she was new to Sylva. Either that, or she’d come from one of the other towns, probably Everland or Minos.
Whatever the case, she shouldn’t be here. Shifting more of his weight onto his uninjured foot, he glanced at the woman again, and this time, the entire woods did seem to go silent.
It took him more than a few seconds to finally find his voice. “Hello,” he said.
The woman’s eyes grew even wider. Her gaze drifted from his face, traveling down his torso, and it occurred to Bryon that he was completely naked. Muttering curses that would make a sailor blush, he tried to cover his groin with his hands, his insides already burning with mild embarrassment.
Unfortunately, the effort caused him to lurch backward, and he stepped on a nearby rock.
With a bellow, he lost his balance and crashed to the ground.
Pain flared in his foot, and for the next few seconds, bright spots appeared in the corners of his vision.
He lay on the ground, groaning and clutching his foot. Blood trickled between his fingers.
“Great,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Just great.”
When he’d ventured into Paradise Woods earlier, this was not how he’d envisioned his morning unfolding. He’d figured he would find the foal, grab it, and head back to the clinic at the sanctuary, then meet up with the other animal rescuers in town.
Darn that stupid piece of glass. Now he’d injured his foot, and his other problem was standing a few feet away, still staring at him with a mix of shock and horror.
He drew a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the searing pain in his left foot, and focused on the woman. He held up a hand. “It’s okay,” he rasped. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
A fat lot of good his words did. The look on her face didn’t change one bit. Bryon’s jaw tightened, only in part because of the pain. He’d seen that look on other faces many years ago.
The memory of a man staring at him, horror and disgust plastered all over his face, hit him like a punch to the gut.
What kind of monster are you? he’d hissed.
Swallowing, he brushed the memory aside. That had been over nine years, yet the memory was still fresh, as though it had only been yesterday that he’d fled from Phoenix with all those people at his heels.
And from what he could see, history was starting to repeat itself.
Dread settled over him, weighing him down.
This was bad, really, really bad. He was willing to bet that this woman was human, which was a problem, because humans didn’t know about the supernatural.
They weren’t supposed to. The average human lived a life of blissful ignorance, which benefited them, as well as supernaturals.
They simply couldn’t fathom the existence of anything non-human, not even the ones who believed they could.
And when they found themselves face to face with the supernatural, they tended to get scared and violent.
That was why witches had been burned at stake. It was why some humans hunted shifters and vampires. It was why Bryon’s own best friend had tried to have him killed.
The few humans who knew about the supernatural were actually tolerant of it, but this woman was not one of them.
You’ve got a huge problem on your hands, Bryon, he told himself. How are you even going to wiggle your way out of this one?
He’d managed to talk his way out of similar situations in the past, but this...well, this wasn’t quite like those other situations.
The woman shifted on the spot, pulling her bathrobe tighter around her torso. Thank goodness she didn’t try to run. She just stood there, staring at him, and breathing heavily.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said again, pulling himself into a sitting position. “I promise. You’re safe.”
If she believed him, she was doing a terrible job of showing it. Her eyes remained wide. One of them was a deeper blue than the other, he realized.
She was beautiful in a strange way, disheveled hair and all.
Sure, he’d encountered attractive women in the past, even gone on dates with a few, but none of them held a candle to this woman.
Just looking at her, Bryon felt blood rush into his groin.
Unfortunately, additional blood was exiting his foot, and if he didn’t do something about it soon, he’d pass out.
“You’re injured,” she said, pointing. “You’re losing blood.”
“Thanks for informing me.” The words sounded a little more sarcastic than he’d intended. He sighed. “I need to get the shard out and clean up the wound before things get worse.”
It was crazy how suddenly his day had gone awry. He felt like a character in a comedy, constantly getting into trouble. He still hadn’t rescued the foal, he’d injured himself, and he’d shifted in front of a human. Could his day possibly get any worse?
He grunted as his foot throbbed. He blinked up at the woman. “You wouldn’t happen to know first aid, would you?”
***
It wasn’t every day one stumbled upon a naked guy in the woods who used to be a wolf.
To be honest, Miranda was surprised she hadn’t just run away. It was what she wanted to do since she ended up in this clearing, but she seemed rooted to the spot.
At least, until the man asked for her help.
“First aid?” She blinked at him. “Yeah, I know first aid.”
And despite a voice in the back of her head, screaming at her to make a run for it, she stepped toward him, glancing between his face and his bleeding foot. The man didn’t look much older than her. He had a rugged face, with deep brown eyes and brown hair that fell to his shoulders.
He was, of course, nude, and in the sunlight streaking through the treetops, she caught a clear glimpse of his muscular frame, shadows cast along the contours of his torso.
One large arm was crossed over his chest, his other hand covering his crotch.
Miranda’s gaze lingered a second too long, and she gulped. That hand was barely covering anything.
“Um...” She sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the delicious heat creeping along her skin at the sight of him. “I’ll help you.”
Without another word, she dropped to her knees before him, examining his foot. The glass shard glinted, embedded in his sole, the area red with his blood. She must’ve grimaced, because he suddenly got a dismayed look on his face.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
She pressed her lips together. “Uh, I can try to treat it, but I’m not sure I’ll be much help. I haven’t got any antiseptics or bandages. I can take out the shard. You’ll need to get it checked by a professional.”
What was she even doing? Hadn’t she just seen this man transform from a wolf moments ago?
She shook her head as if it would rid her of the bizarreness of her current situation.
Maybe she had imagined that he’d been a wolf.
She was lost in the woods, her mind addled with fear at the prospect of Jerry discovering her.
Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her.
Then again, maybe not.
Sucking in a breath, she lifted his foot, propping it on her knee.
The injury definitely looked bad, but she could at least try to stop the bleeding for now.
That glass shard needed to come out, though.
Steeling herself against a sudden shudder, she reached for it, pulling it out of the man’s foot without warning.
He gave only a muffled grunt, but from the way his eyes bulged in their sockets, she could tell he was holding back a scream.
“You could’ve at least given me a warning,” he said through gritted teeth, pain in his eyes.
“Sorry. I figured you’d tense up if I did.” She held up the shard, which was mostly covered in blood. “Christ.”
“Today is not my lucky day,” she heard him mutter.