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Chapter Seventeen
Willow
Iwake on the ground I don’t know how many minutes—hours?—later to a feminine voice asking, “Honey? Honey can you hear me?”
I drag my eyes open, struggling to make sense of the form leaning over me.
It’s a woman, I can tell that much, but it takes time to drag her blue jean overalls, messy blond bun, and worried brown eyes into focus.
“Hey, there,” she says, hope lightening her tone as she takes a careful step closer. “Good to see you awake. I’m Fern. Any idea what happened to you? You and your…pet?”
The question in her voice and the cautious look in her eyes makes me suspect Maxim is still in wolf form.
Maxim. Is he—
I sit up fast, swaying as the world reels around me.
“Easy there,” Fern says, crouching beside me. “You’ve clearly been through something. Just take it slow and I’ll help you however I can.”
“Thank you,” I mumble thickly as I turn to see Maxim, still in his big black wolf form, sleeping on the grass beside the road. Exhaling with relief, I turn back to Fern. “I was camping, and I thought I’d…” I trail off, the story I prepared seeming ridiculous now.
Why would anyone go skinny dipping in October?
It’s ludicrous and Fern doesn’t look stupid.
She doesn’t look dangerous, either. She actually looks very kind and concerned and like the sort of person who wouldn’t hesitate to help a fellow creature in need.
Swallowing hard, I lift my chin, meeting her clear gaze. “I was taken by some bad people. Very bad people. They took my wolf, too. He’s hurt and we’re both in danger. We just barely escaped, and I’m sure they’re out looking for us. I’d appreciate a ride to the closest city and some clothes so much, but I can’t promise it’s safe for you to help us, so if you—”
Fern cuts me off with a shake of her head. “Say no more. Can you help me get your animal into the back of the truck?” I nod and rise, ignoring the pain flashing through the torn flesh on the bottoms of my feet as Fern drops the tailgate on her pickup. “Sounds like we need to move now and chat later.” She circles around to Maxim’s rear flank, arching a brow my way. “Is it safe for me to touch him? He’s not going to bite my head off if he wakes up while we’re moving him, is he?”
“He shouldn’t, but I’ll watch his mouth just in case.” I move to Maxim’s front, keeping a close eye on his face as we carry him around to the back of the truck and slide him into the bed.
But he doesn’t wake, a fact that’s troubling though probably best with regard to his healing. The more he can sleep and rest, the better.
I hurry back to the place where I collapsed, grabbing the still-damp bag full of North Star relics. That dampness gives me hope Maxim and I weren’t out for long and haven’t given our enemies too much time to catch up.
“Just shove the groceries out of the way,” Fern says as I open the passenger’s door to find the seat full of brightly colored re-useable shopping bags. “I was coming back from the store when I saw you fall over and kept driving up here to see what happened.”
“Thank you so much,” I say, shifting the bags onto the floor and perching gingerly on the seat, suddenly aware of my nakedness in a new way now that I’m in human company. “I’m sorry I have to sit on your seat without clothes on. I have a damp blanket in my bag if you think—”
“Stop.” Fern shoots me a stern, compassionate look and fires up the truck. “After what you’ve been through, don’t you dare apologize for a damned thing. I’m just sorry I don’t have anything for you to wear in here.” She glances in her rearview and pulls out, quickly picking up speed. “We could swing into my place if you want. It’s about a mile up ahead. I could run in and grab you something of mine. You’re shorter, but otherwise I think we’re close to the same size.”
I pull in a breath, fighting tears again as I shake my head. “Thank you, but no. I’d never forgive myself if they caught up with us and…hurt you. It’s better to keep going. Fast.”
She sits back in her seat, squaring her thin shoulders as she nods. “Okay. Then that’s what we’ll do.” She reaches out, grabbing an older model cell phone from the cup holder between us. “Let me call my boyfriend and warn him I won’t be back for a while.”
“Of course,” I say, listening as she places the call, quickly explains the situation, then warns the voice on the other end, “so keep the doors locked and your gun close, baby. I love you, and I’ll see you soon.”
I cross my arms over my chest, fighting to control the trembling starting in my weary muscles. “Thank you again. Your boyfriend should be fine. The people after us don’t want to attract attention. They shouldn’t bother him, not unless they smelled our trail leading up to your house or something.”
Fern glances my way out of the corners of her eyes. “Smelled? They have tracking dogs?”
“Something like that,” I say, not wanting to lie to this woman.
I’m so sick of lies, so sick of pretending to be something I’m not—pretending to be human the rare times I’ve been out and about in their world, pretending to be Beta because that’s what my pack told me I had to be, pretending to respect people who haven’t earned it because I’m too afraid to fight back.
I don’t want to pretend anymore, so when Fern asks, “Any chance you’d feel comfortable telling me what happened to you?” I say, “I would, but I’m not sure you’ll believe it.”
