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“That’s what’s left you speechless?” Goldie asked, exasperated. “In this entire story, with all of us standing here covered in blood, it’s me talking to a wolf that’s stolen your words?”
Elliot glanced down at his t-shirt, now streaked with blood and fur. “And he ruins my favorite shirt. This guy better cure cancer or invent penicillin because otherwise, he is not worth this.”
“He’s worth everything,” Goldie shouted. She stepped back and took a heaving breath. “You have to help him, please.”
Gently, Andie put a hand on her arm. “Of course, dear. I’ll call Becca.”
“I’ll get the green goo,” Elliot said with a sigh.
“Thank you.”
“Besides,” Andie said with a hint of a smile. “Someone already invented penicillin. So he doesn’t have to do that at least.”
Goldie snorted. Her quiet cousin had a wicked sense of humor she hid well. She’d missed it.
Andie pulled Goldie into her arms again. “I am so desperately glad you are all right.” She held her out at arm’s length. “You are all right, aren’t you?”
“Never been better.”
Rather than reassure her, that seemed to worry Andie. “Never?”
Goldie was shocked to realize she meant it. Even with Aiden’s rampaging family on the loose, him seriously wounded, and herhead pounding like a rotting melon, she was home and free, and Aiden was with her. She couldn’t think of anything better.
Maybe she did have Stockholm Syndrome.
16
Aiden woke in a miasma of pain with one desperate thought. “Goldie!”
He fought unbreakable bonds to get up and find her.
“Goldie!”
“Relax old man, you’ll bust your stitches.”
He spun to see a strange shifter leaning against a doorframe above him.
When the man didn’t immediately dive and eat him, Aiden looked around. He was lying on his back on the floor of a closet under a single bulb illuminating rough-hewn cabin walls with floor-to-ceiling empty shelves.
He could feel a pallet beneath him, almost the exact size of the closet. The unbreakable bonds were a blanket.
He flung it off to see his torso covered in deep gouges and a neon green, translucent gel that shimmered with magic.
“Where is Goldie?”
“She’s safe.”
Something deep in him stepped one tiny inch back from the brink. “She’s all right?”
“She is now,” the shifter said mildly.
“Where am I?”
The shifter leaned down. “You’re inmyhouse.”
“Who are you?”
“Goldie’s family.”
