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“Oh,” she squeaked, when Landon lifted her leg and began to bandage it with the strips of fabric he had torn from his shirt. “This is really happening.”
“Don’t forget her foot as well,” I said. Like her leg, it was also bleeding.
“Who are you guys?” she asked.
Seeing that she was breathing just fine, I felt more comfortable answering her question. “My name is Roman and this, here, is Landon.”
“Landon and Roman…” she repeated, saying Landon’s name before mine, almost like she understood that he was the Alpha and I, the Beta. But, of course, that was impossible. Unless told, the humans didn’t know about our hierarchy. They certainly wouldn’t perceive of it on their own accord, unless…
“She’s the one,” Landon’s voice echoed in my mind, finishing my thought.
“But how? We are without a pack.”
“Perhaps she is the key to rebuilding it.”
“Maybe so, but right now we need to focus on getting her home and getting that leg of hers taken care of.”
“Um… I don’t mean to be rude or anything but do you think we can get off the beach now? It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”
It was then, that I noticed that she was shivering. I shrugged off the leather jacket I liked to wear. Many of my pack members had thought it tacky but after watching some 1950’s movi
es, I understood that it was the perfect fashion statement. Besides, it made me look like a badass. And watch out, if I wore sunglasses too.
Before my thoughts could get carried away, I draped the jacket over her shoulders. “We’ll carry you back.”
“I can walk,” she said.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Before she could protest, I scooped her up and cradled her against my chest. Just as I had expected, it was extremely natural for me to do so, almost like she belonged in my arms. At least there, I knew she would be safe and sound.
“Put me down!”
“Is that really what you want?” I asked, as I fake dropped her.
Instantly, she tightened her hold around my neck.
“You should really be careful what you ask for,” I teased, as I continued to carry her toward civilization.
She pouted. “You didn’t have to do that. Or this — I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own.”
Landon hadn’t spoken a word during all this time. He was walking a few steps ahead of us, with a somber expression on his face. I could tell by the faraway look in his eyes that he was thinking about that day — the massacre.
“So, where’s this house of yours?”
“Apartment,” she corrected.
“Alright, apartment. Where is it?”
“Are you seriously going to carry me all the way there?” she asked me. “Aren’t you going to get tired?”
“Doubtful, but if I do, Landon can always lend me a hand.”
She glanced in his direction and I could see the wheels turning inside her head. What was she thinking? And was it as dirty as my thoughts of her? Because, right now, I had her in a thousand different positions, trying to figure out which one I would like best.
“Just down the road,” she said, at last. “It’s the building with the red door.”
“Red door, got it.”
As we walked down the street, I could tell that Landon was surveying the area to make sure whether it was safe or not. At first glance, it appeared to be uncontested area but a few shifters live as nomads, constantly moving from place to place. What might be unclaimed today, might not be unclaimed tomorrow.
