Chapter 5 Damage Control #2
Bridesmaid. That detail went through the haze and struck something almost absurd.
She was wearing a torn bridesmaid dress.
She had fallen into a claiming rite dressed for a wedding, bleeding from the foot, furious at a dog, and brave enough to tell a circle full of wolves she would scream if we touched her.
My wolf wanted to put her somewhere dark and warm, lie over the door, and kill every sound that upset her. The man understood Ronan was right.
I hated him for it anyway.
Ronan stepped closer. “You will shift back, and you will carry her.”
Malrec recoiled. “Alpha.”
Ronan didn’t look at him. “The mark is his. His wolf is the only thing in this circle she has any chance of surviving.”
Whispers moved through the gathered wolves. Evelyn made a sound I almost missed. Her mother held her tighter, but Evelyn’s eyes went from Cassie’s wound to the silver basin.
There it was again.
The look.
Ronan lowered his voice. “Ian.”
The shift back was worse than the change into wolf.
It always was. Wolf to man meant surrendering teeth when teeth were the only thing I trusted.
It meant taking pain and making it smaller than sound.
Bone pulled inward. Muscles tore and reformed.
Fur burned back into skin. Claws split to fingers.
The air hit me cold and full of scents too sharp for a human-shaped body.
I came back on one knee over Cassie, naked, shaking, and covered in her blood.
My hand went to her throat first.
Pulse. Fast. Wild. Still there.
The relief was so violent it almost put me back on four legs.
Cassie’s eyes were closed. Her lashes cast dark shadows against skin already fever-hot. Dirt streaked one cheek. Her mouth was parted around shallow breaths. The bite at her shoulder was ugly, blackened at the edges where the mark tried to root in flesh not made for our magic.
I had seen throats torn out. Bellies opened. Men beg with their intestines in their hands. This wound almost made me sick, because I had put it there.
I slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back. The second I touched her, her body arched toward me and a gasp broke from her lips. The mark flared black under her skin.
Every wolf on the lawn saw it. Every wolf smelled the truth. The bite recognized me. Her body, dying or not, recognized me too.
My brother swore softly.
I gathered her against my chest as carefully as my hands knew how. There was no way to do it without hurting her. Her face tightened even unconscious, and I felt each small reaction as if the mark had put hooks under my own skin.
The dog growled when I moved. A ridiculous sound from a ridiculous animal. I looked at him and he growled again, braver than several wolves on the lawn.
Cassie’s fist still held the leash. I reached down, unwound it from the post, and wrapped the end around my hand.
Ronan stepped beside me. His gaze went over Cassie once, then to the mark, then to my face.
“Can you hold yourself?”
“No.”
Several wolves shifted at the honesty and Ronan’s jaw tightened.
I looked at Malrec. Then Silas. Then every elder who had been ready to end her in the grass.
“I can hold myself if no one reaches for her.”
Ronan accepted that because truth was more useful than comfort. “Then walk.”
I stood with Cassie in my arms. She weighed almost nothing.That enraged me. A woman should not feel that breakable after surviving me.
Evelyn stood near the western post. I had to pass within arm’s reach of her. She looked at Cassie first, then at me.
“Ian,” she whispered.
There was accusation in it. There should have been. There was humiliation too, and fear, and something underneath both that I could not read with Cassie’s blood flooding my senses.
I gave Evelyn the only truth I had. “I didn’t choose this.”
Her eyes filled.
Cassie made a sound against my chest, a small hurt breath that dragged my attention back down. The apology I owed Evelyn died in my throat. My wolf didn’t permit attention to leave the marked female.
That frightened the man in me more than any blade on the lawn.
Ronan walked ahead of us, clearing the path with nothing but his presence.
The gathered wolves parted. Some stared at Cassie with horror.
Some with disgust. Some with fascination sharp enough to make me memorize their faces.
The Thorne wolves whispered. The Holloway wolves watched my hands.
They were right to watch. I was one bad breath from violence.
At the hedge, Lucien returned. Behind him, the human voices had grown more distant, redirected by staff and confidence.
“The wedding party believes Ms. Morgan fell near the east service path while retrieving the dog,” he said. “They have been told she is injured and being evaluated by the resort physician. Her father is insisting on seeing her.”
My arms tightened before I could stop them. Lucien glanced at the movement and wisely said nothing.
Ronan asked, “How long can you hold them?”
“With apologies, legal concern, and champagne, perhaps a couple hours before the father becomes difficult.”
Ronan’s face didn’t change. “Then buy the hours.”
Lucien nodded and left.