Her urgent voice woke me. For a moment all I could do was lie there absorbing her concern. It soaked through me like a soothing ointment. My bear stirred and gave a rumble of pleasure—all was right in his world, his mate safe—and went back to sleep.
The touch of her arms and her cheek against mine soothed a deep ache that had nothing to do with my current injuries. Weakened, I admitted my hunger. What shifter didn’t long for a mate?
But she was still human.
Reluctantly I pulled away from her soft embrace. Before my bear could rouse and complain, I pushed him down. He didn’t get any say about this.
“I’m not going to die,” I coolly assured the girl.
It hurt to sit up. My injuries were serious enough it would take several hours to heal completely. But, I decided, the sooner I got the girl back home, the better.
She watched me, her eyes big and scared and hurt. “What just happened?”
“We were attacked,” I said shortly. “We fought back, and we won.”
“They were wolves.” Her voice held tones of confusion and shame.
I glanced around at the bodies. “Wolves?” I repeated, an eyebrow raised.
She knotted her fists. “Wolves.” Her chin tilted mutinously, she added, “You were a bear.”
“An interesting story. Probably better if you don’t repeat it. I’m certainly not going to corroborate it.”
She flinched as though I’d hit her. My bear shouted at me. Ignoring them both, I stood. My legs wobbled a little, but with a little more time I’d be fine.
I retraced my steps until I found my carry bag and jeans. I dragged them back on as fast as I could. The more I healed, the more the girl’s presence affected me in a way no one could mistake.
The stream was only a few steps farther. I knelt on the stream bank and washed the blood from my arms and chest.
“There’s dried blood all over your back too,” the girl said. She dribbled water from her cupped hands onto my back. Evidently that wasn’t removing the blood to her satisfaction, because she scrubbed across my shoulders and down my sides with her fingers.
My breath hitched with her touch. I yearned for her to touch me all over, forever and ever. “That’s enough.” Regretting my harsh tone, I added, “Thanks.”
Standing, I led the way downstream. The girl followed without complaining, but she lagged farther and farther behind. She hadn’t eaten, she’d drunk just a little from the stream, and she’d fought wolves. It wasn’t necessary to push her so hard. The boat would still be there if we went a little slower and conserved our energy.
Stopping, I waited for her to come alongside me. “Let’s take a break.”
Without giving her time to respond, I slid to a sit on the damp soil next to the stream. I was exhausted too, I realized. It took a lot of energy to heal. I should also be eating.
Rest and water would have to suffice.
Or just water.
I couldn’t rest with the girl sitting beside me. I felt her presence as though she’s burrowed under my skin. Her smell filled my nostrils, her soft noises filled my ears. My cock swelled with need for her.
She needed to rest. I forced myself to pretend to relax. It was worth my discomfort to hear her breathing become more easy.
When she shivered, I took my shirt out of the carry bag. “Put that on.”
“Your wounds are healing,” she said suddenly.
“Yeah, they do that.”
“You know what I mean. They’re healing fast.”
I closed my eyes. “Too tired to talk.”
She snorted. “Coward.”
That stung, but I forced myself not to respond.
“I prayed for you. I need to know is, is God answering my prayer by healing you? Or is it natural for you to heal so quickly?”
“I don’t know anything about God.” God was a human thing. From what I’d seen, if there was a god, it hated shifters.
“What are you, Terrence?”
I stood. “Might as well move on if we’re not going to rest.”
I set a pace fast enough that she didn’t have enough breath to both walk and talk. Damn her, I wanted to answer her questions. I wanted to spill everything inside me and let her soothe me with those gentle hands.
And I wanted to guard her against any more hurts, like the pain she’d feel if I let her get close to me when I knew there was no future in it.
He kept a wall between us.
But he wanted me. I felt his need, thick as a cloud. It wasn’t just a sex thing, although his cock bulged tight against his jeans nearly all the time. He ate me up with his eyes like a starving man. He wanted all of me—me, curvy Yvette, the dithering sister who didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life.
At least that’s what I thought sometimes. Then I thought I was as delusional about Terrence as I was about the wolfmen. Terrence didn’t have any feelings for me. He’d come to rescue me, yes, but anything else was just wishful thinking.
Except I wasn’t sure the wolfmen were a delusion. I’d felt the thrust of the limb going down the wolf’s throat. If I hadn’t pulled it out, it would have been— I shuddered, unable to finish the thought. My foot slipped on the soggy ground.
Before I could fall, Terrence was gripping my shoulders, steadying me.
I stared up into his face. The sky beyond the leaves had lightened enough that I could see his features clearly. He had lines between his eyebrows, lines at the corner of his mouth. I touched his face. I traced the lines, imagining that I could somehow erase them if my fingers were only gentle enough.
He let me touch him, his eyes burning into mine. My desire for him flared.
At once, as though somehow he knew how much I wanted to touch him all over, he set me aside and turned his back. “Let’s go.”
“No.”
He continued on. He went beyond a curve of the stream, disappearing behind a giant fern.
I stood where I was, waiting. The birds were starting to wake up now. The occasional warble turned into a wall of twitterings.
Eventually he came back. “What’s wrong?” His eyes were cold, his face guarded. He stood well out of arm’s reach.
My doubts swamped me. Of course an experienced man like him wouldn’t care about a girl like me. It was foolish of me to think anything else.
Hiding my shamed embarrassment, I demanded, “What’s the truth, Terrence? Am I crazy?” My voice broke. “Did I kill a man or a wolf?”