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My wolf reeled violently, but I couldn’t do a damn thing about the cage holding it back. If I fucking could…
Fingers dug into my jaw, and purple eyes swam in my vision. Purple eyes? Who the fuck had purple eyes?
The knife pressed in deeper. My nerves were flayed with a fire I couldn’t put out. The pain was fucking excruciating—more than it should’ve been for a single stab to the stomach.
“Oh, you’ll give me what I want, little wolf,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. Lavender and lemon washed nauseatingly over my face. That fucking smell. “I promise you that.”
My vision failed, and my world pitched into darkness.
Chapter 02
Killian
No… no… no… God, that fucking sucks… no… no… eh, maybe.”
What the ever-loving fuck?
Roan’s voice swam unsteadily in my ears as he continued to do… something. I didn’t have a clue. I struggled to open my eyes. The blast of fluorescent light hurt, and I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Hey, took you long enough,” Roan commented.
“Light,” I rasped, barely recognizing my own voice. The dryness in my mouth was horrific, and my tongue felt thick as fuck. “Hurt.”
“Yes, caveman, I’ll turn off the fucking light.” His boots scuffed the floor loudly, the noise making my ears ache. My wolf growled while I cringed. “Calm your furry ass. I’ve got it, I’ve got it.”
The lights dimmed enough for me to blink more comfortably. It took longer for my vision to clear than I wanted. I was in a hospital room with Roan. He sat with his boots up on the bed and a remote in hand. Dirty blond hair stuck out from under a backward baseball hat with loose strands falling into his vivid blue eyes. From the expression on his face, he was more bored than anything as he chewed on a plastic spoon with four jello containers balancing in his lap.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“Hospital,” Roan said. “You got yourself stabbed.”
Stabbed? That’d explain the pain in my stomach. But how? I frowned as I tried to remember. I couldn’t recall a fucking thing, only small flashes. Woods. Shadows. Pain. So much fucking pain.
“By who?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. He was too damn casual about the whole ordeal. It irritated the fuck out of me.
“How did they find me? Who found me?” I demanded.
“Someone dropped you off in the hospital waiting room and left,” he explained. “Non-fatal stab wound to the stomach. It means—”
“I know what it means. How long?”
“A day. I got the call and had to fly across the country for your non-fatal stab wound,” he said. “The cable is shit, and the fucking jello all tastes the same. You’d think they’d have better fucking jello here.”
“It’s a hospital, Roan,” I replied. “And the jello isn’t for you. It’s for patients. Like me.”
“Call it your non-emergency emergency contact fee,” he shot back. “For the record, I hauled ass to get here. They wouldn’t tell me everything over the phone. Just that you got stabbed. I thought you were dead.”
“I’m sorry you had emotional distress.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I get stabbed.”
“Good.” He grinned. Asshole.
“You didn’t call Mom did you?”
“Fuck no!” Roan exclaimed. “Shit, your mom would burn down the country until they found who stabbed her sweet little itty bitty baby boy.”
“Fucker,” I interjected. He wasn’t quite wrong though.
