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“Just stay still,” he tells me, reaching out again. I don’t move as he runs his hands over me…so different from how he’d touched me before. He seems to be checking for injuries because he sits back, seemingly satisfied.
“It’s not mine.” I shake my head. I feel sick to my stomach.
“No,” he says. He runs his hand through his hair. “Jesus.”
“I don’t know what’s going on, Barrett.” My voice trembles. I’m fighting back tears.
“Don’t you?” He tilts his head.
What does he mean by that?
“What do you mean?” I say my thoughts out loud.
“What do you remember about last night?”
“I… we… We were together.” My hand strays to my throat again. “You gave me this. We sealed our bond.” What I’m saying should make me warm inside, but his bearing doesn’t allow me to.
“That was the day before, Cedara. You spent yesterday as your wolf.”
“No! I…” I trail off. “I did?” I sound uncertain. It can’t be true. “But I would remember.” I sound feeble.
“Would you?”
“Oh, God, I don’t know!” I’m about to rub my face with my hand when I realize that my palm is coated with dried blood. I fight down a gag, my anxiety spiraling. “I really don’t remember anything,” I say, my voice trembling. “You’re saying I was in my wolf form all day?”
He nods solemnly. “You wouldn’t shift back.”
My heart races as I try to process this information. How could I have lost an entire day like that?
Like when I was caged…
Barrett’s face is pained as he describes the events to me. “You were restless, prowling near the door. I tried to get you to shift, but nothing worked. Eventually, I called Dr. Bea for help. We gave you more of the antidote.”
“And it worked!”
“Not immediately. You went to sleep like that. The wolf.”
I shut my eyes, processing this, the iron tang in the air nauseating me.
“Cedara…” He touches my arm. “She’s worried. If this gets worse… If you regress…”
“Then what?” I whisper.
“You may never come back.” His gentle tone can’t mask the shock of it.
“Oh, my God.” I might never regain my human form. I love being in my wolf state, but not the way I’ve been these past months. Mindless. Not like that. The thought terrifies me.
The blood coating the sheets and my skin terrifies me more.
Did I hurt someone? Attack them? The idea makes me feel sick to my stomach.
“Barrett,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “What happened? Whose blood is this?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Cedara. I wish I could tell you.” As he says it, I can’t help getting the feeling that there’s something he’s not saying.
“I could never hurt someone. Never.” Suddenly, I’m remembering the sense of satisfaction I felt tearing into the guard who’d tormented me. It doesn’t matter that he was evil. I reveled in his screams.
But this…?
