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Chapter 12
Ridge
My phone rang, and I smiled when I read my mate’s name on the screen. “Hey, Tori—” I began.
“Hey, Ridge,” she talked over me, her voice frantic and trembling. “We need to talk. Something happened with Zander…he had another episode.”
“What happened? Are you hurt?” I demanded. My inner wolf roared in discontent.
“I restrained him, but he was so strong.” Tori’s words came out in a rush. “I’m not hurt. Just a couple of scratches, nothing to worry about.”
She brushed it off, but there was something behind her words. She was upset, and it was like a knife twisting in my gut. My alpha instincts only intensified the feeling, urging me to go check on my mate and make sure she was all right.
“Are you still at the hospital?” I demanded.
“Yes, but I’m fine, Ridge.”
“Stay right there. I’m on my way,” I growled, barely able to maintain my composure. Despite Tori’s attempts to assure me otherwise, my wolf and I felt compelled to lay eyes on her.
“Ridge, it’s really not that big of a deal,” she insisted, but I wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“Stay put, Tori. I need to see you myself,” I snapped, my voice hoarse with concern and suppressed fury. My protective instincts wouldn’t rest until I verified that she was safe and sound.
I ended the call and rushed to the hospital, fueled by the wild desperation coursing through my veins. My wolf was already restless, and the longer I put off claiming my mate, the more restless he became. With the way I’d reacted to this latest situation, I was becoming dangerous. My wolf was getting harder to control. And all these new wolves moving into Blackwood Creek only increased our urgency to claim Tori and complete the mating bond.
Most of the new shifter residents wouldn’t know about our so-called engagement. That had happened before their arrival. Not that it would make any difference to them. In shifter society, an engagement—real or fake—was a human tradition, which some shifters saw as meaningless. Wolves would consider an unmarked, unclaimed wolf like Tori as fair game, particularly one as magnificent as her. And my wolf did not like that. At all.
The sterile smell of the hospital halls conjured up memories of an injured Tori, stabbed with a silver knife. My wolf was frantic now, and my nostrils flared as I searched for her unique scent among the overwhelming medley of antiseptic, overcooked food, and sickness. When I singled out her scent, I locked onto it and used it as a lifeline, guiding me straight to her.
The moment I laid eyes on her, relief rushed through me so strongly that it nearly brought me to my knees. Tori was standing in the corridor, talking with Lola, their backs to me, heads together, their voices low and gentle.
Tori must have sensed me because she looked directly over her shoulder at me. Her eyes never left mine as Lola said something to her, then stepped into Zander’s room.
“Ridge, I told you on the phone you didn’t…” Tori trailed off as I stalked toward her.
“Let me see,” I demanded.
Without hesitation, she placed her arms in my outstretched hands, looking at me in bewilderment.
I looked over her body carefully, checking for any visible signs of injury or harm. My fingers traced a scratch on her arm. The sight of her blood, even just a few droplets, sent my wolf into a rage.
Something about the stiff way Tori was holding herself made me wonder if she’d injured her back. I gently ran my hands over her upper body, feeling for broken bones. Her wince when my hand palpated her shoulder made my wolf howl like a mad animal.
“Ridge, please,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed. “This isn’t the time.”
“Dammit, Tori, this is exactly the time,” I growled. “I need to know you’re okay. Right. Now.” I could feel my control slipping, my inner wolf clawing at the surface. It took every ounce of restraint not to throw her over my shoulder and carry her home, where I could care for her myself.
“Fine,” she complied, but I didn’t miss the frustration in her voice. She stubbornly turned her head away from me as she stood in front of me, her arms down by her sides.
I moved in close to her, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. I brushed a tender kiss on the top of her head, then leaned into the curve of her neck and inhaled deeply. Through Tori’s scent, I could detect a small amount of pain, although it was subtle.
I relaxed as her body softened against mine. My arms snaked around her, and we stood in the hospital corridor wrapped in each other. She may not be marked—yet—but my wolf was happier knowing she was at least covered in our scent. Itwasn’t the complete hands-off signal that would come once we’d completed the mating bond, but it was a heads-up to other shifters to back off.
Tori spoke, her voice muffled by the fabric of my shirt. “We need to stay and wait for Zander to wake up. This is my fault. Lola warned me to slow down, but I kept pushing and asked too many questions. It set him off into a frenzy.”
“You’re in pain, Tori. I can smell it. Let’s head home. Someone can call us when Zander wakes up,” I murmured as I continued to rub her back, hoping to ease some of her discomfort.
Tori groaned and leaned back to look up at me. “I’m fine, really. My back aches a little because I fell against the wall, but honestly, I’m okay. Nothing severe.”
