“Yeah, you are,” I agree. He narrows his eyes, but lets my comment slide.
It takes Luca half a second longer to realize the problem before he curses and takes off his shirt. He passes it to me, and I toss it behind me without looking. My wolf whines about her smelling like Luca, he thinks she should smell like us and it has me all kinds of confused.
I hear her catch the shirt and hurriedly pull it on. When I finally turn around again, I suck in a breath.
She’s beautiful—achingly beautiful.
Her long hair is matted and dirty, but I can see it’s a light blonde underneath. Her eyes are a vibrant emerald green—the same as her wolf’s—and fanned by long eyelashes. Even the dark shadowsunderneath them don’t take from their radiance. She’s pale, far too pale, but a tint of blush clings to her cheeks. Her scent, still enchanting, is bitter with pain, fear, and embarrassment. Her lips are full, almost too big for her face and a deep, dusky pink.
Fuck, she’s stunning. She looks like a broken doll.This must be a trap.She’s way too good looking to be out here alone. My wolf whimpers, but I shove him down.Focus. Do your damn job.Ryan apologizes again, but I interrupt him. We need to not get taken in here.
“Can you walk on that leg?”
She glances up briefly before averting her gaze, hugging herself tighter as she clears her throat. She opens and closes her mouth a couple of times as if trying to remember how to talk. When she speaks a moment later, her voice is raspy and slow.
“Not in this form.”
“Okay.” I inch closer, careful not to crowd her. “You have to stay in your human form for now. We need to be able to communicate. Can I carry you?”
“Y… you’re asking me?” she asks and tilts her head to the side. “I didn’t think I had many choices here,” she says to herself more than us, and I wonder how long she’s been out here alone and where her pack is.
“You have choices,” I say, my voice rough. “Especially once you’re at the pack hospital and get that leg cleaned up. You’ll have a lot more options then, like leaving.”
I’m being an asshole. I know I am, and my wolf snarls in my head, pissed off with me for not being more welcoming. But I’m too on edge around her. Too drawn to her. What is it about her?
Chapter 4
Emily
“Okay,” I rasp. My voice sounds gravelly and strange, like it belongs to someone else. But then, I haven’t had an easy few weeks, and I haven’t spoken out loud since I left Blood Moon.
I don’t trust these males. Obviously.
I don’t think I’ll ever trust a male again.
My mind races through all the ways they could hurt me, a thousand outcomes flashing behind my eyes. But I don’t have any other choice right now. Pain pulses through my broken leg. Cold sweat slides down my back. Infection is setting in—I can feel it burning under my skin. If I don’t get help soon, even shifter healing won’t save me.
Not being able to stay in one place for long and having no supplies has meant I couldn’t reset my broken leg and then it started to heal, but it’s all wrong. The bone still sticks out of my skin, which has turned a sickly pallor.
I’ve been dragging myself on three legs for weeks now. It’s a lot harder to hunt when you’re injured, even for a shifter. I’m underweight and sick. I know I need help, and I need it now.
“I’m going to pick you up now. Is that okay?” The closest guy with the sandy brown hair asks. I’m so weak I can’t even scent his rank. He’s standing over me, but not looming. Not crowding. Like how he stepped closer to me earlier. He covered me when I was naked. He didn’t ogle me.
I know he doesn’t deserve credit for common decency, but my bar is so low right now, it’s practically on the floor.
Males always stare at me. Since I was sixteen and grew into my features. My wide eyes, all of a sudden, are seen as both smoldering and doe-like. The lips that were always too big for my face are now described as pouty. My petite body filled out a little, even if my breasts remained on the small side. Great ass, though, according to pretty much every male in the Blood Moon pack.
I hated every minute.
How their eyes would rake all over my body every time I stepped outside. The degrading comments they didn’t bother to hide from me. They laughed to each other about all the depraved things they would have done to me if the Alpha hadn’t claimed me first. How I was obviously such a whore for how I dressed and let Aidan treat me in public.
As if I had a choice in any of it.
It never mattered what I wanted. Not to Aidan and not to any of the other males, either. My father wouldn’t even make eye contact with me, and he did nothing to help me.
So yeah. Maybe the standard I hold men to is at rock bottom, but being asked if it’s okay to pick me up feels almost nice. It shouldn’t make me want to cry.
But it does.
