by D. M. Turner
Sophia glared at him, sighed, and accepted the small bite of meat he offered.
Relief relaxed the muscles of his face, and he reached for another piece.
Ian continued to feed her until the bowl was empty. “That’s all there is for now. I’ll get Donna to bring more.” He cocked his head. “Come to think of it. Would you rather go upstairs to our room first? The concrete floor in this kennel isn’t all that comfortable.”
She tried to roll onto her belly to rise, but she still couldn’t lift her head.
“No. I’ll carry you.” Without waiting for any sort of response, he opened the kennel door, knelt at her belly, and scooped her up, one arm around the front of her chest, the other cupping her backside. With little effort, he got on his feet and carried her out and up the inside stairs.
Sophia had no choice but to submit to his ministrations like the helpless creature she was. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, hoping the others weren’t in the dining room, kitchen, or living room when he carried her through.
* * *
Resisting the urge to hug the priceless burden in his arms even more tightly, Ian carried Sophia into the dining room. He stopped at the breakfast bar and directed his gaze to Donna, who worked in the kitchen with Annie to thaw and prepare food for the wounded, especially Tanya, O’Neil, and Max, who had taken the most damage aside from Sophia.
“Donna, would you please bring food to the master bedroom for Sophia? She polished off what you left earlier.”
She stared at him, blinking, her mouth open but saying nothing.
Annie wore the same look of shock.
“What?”
“Uh….” Donna glanced at Annie, who shook her head with a slightly fearful expression. Both of them suddenly took great interest in the floor.
Brett chuckled from his seat in the living room. “They’re in mortal shock because you asked them to do something instead of ordering them to do it.”
Ian frowned. Had he been that bad? Surely not. He frowned at his friend. “You make me sound like a demanding tyrant.”
“Never.” A wide grin lit the man’s face. “But you sure can be bossy sometimes.”
That word again. He shook his head, glanced down at the wolf hanging quietly in his arms, and sighed. “Just bring me more food for her.” Somehow the words lacked even a hint of authority.
A laugh erupted from the living room.
Ignoring his far-too-amused friend, Ian carried his mate into the bedroom and pushed the door closed with a foot. Then he laid her gently on the bed and sat beside her, stroking her head. He chuckled. “You don’t need to feign unconsciousness anymore. It’s just us for now.”
Sophia’s amber eyes opened, and she gave him a disgusted look.
He could almost hear the denial. “Yes, you most certainly were.” He half-grinned. “Truth be told, I think I’d’ve done the same thing in your paws.”
A knock on the bedroom door pulled him to his feet. “Come in.” There. That had sounded perfectly normal. Not too bossy, but not puny either. Good.
Donna came in, carrying a large metal bowl in both hands. “I brought enough for both of you.” She set the bowl on the nightstand then pointed at Ian without looking directly at him. “I noticed the scarring on your back and sides hasn’t healed all the way yet.”
“It’s not bothering me.” Even if it was, he wouldn’t admit it.
“I know.” She flashed him a quick, knowing look.
Had he said that last part out loud? Was she responding to that or what he’d meant to say? He kept his mouth shut rather than take a chance either way.
“If you need more, let me know.” The door closed behind her as she left.
He moved the bowl from the nightstand to the bed. “Alright, let’s feed you some more. You need rest. Then you can Shift, and we’ll talk.”
Sophia sighed and growled softly. She struggled to roll onto her stomach into an upright position.
“Let me help.” Ian knelt and helped get her legs under her in a Sphinx-like position.
She hooked the bowl with her nose, but it didn’t budge.
He pushed it close enough she could reach into it.
As she ate, he snatched handfuls of the cubed venison muscle meat, liver, heart, and kidney. She ate far slower than normal but appeared steadier as minutes passed.
“While you finish eating, I’m going to hop in the shower. This dried blood is itchy, and I’m tired of smelling like death.”
Sophia stilled and shot him a sideways disgusted look.
He grinned. “You’re stuck until you’re human again. I have no intention of scrubbing down a wolf in the shower or bathtub. Do you have any idea how much fur you’d shed down the drain? Would probably clog it up for good.”
She growled and resumed eating.
* * *
Sophia ate until she didn’t feel so incredibly weak. The shower continued to run. Dried blood could be a bear to get off skin. She knew that firsthand from her run-in with the rapist the summer before. Panic had nearly crippled her at the thought then of not being able to get clean. It had taken a lot of scrubbing to finally get it all off.
She needed to be herself when Ian returned. They couldn’t talk with her a wolf. Tempting as it was to stay as she was, chances were he’d decide she was afraid to talk to him. No way she’d let him believe that.
She tore bandages off with her teeth. Braced for agony, she called forth her human self. Pain of wounds intensified and racked her entire body. Lightning flashed through vision that grew foggy. The Shift took longer than it had in a while, but finally, she lay flat on her back on the bed, breathing heavily. As the agony settled to a dull ache, except where the worst injuries were, she slowly and carefully stretched then subsided on the bed to recover. Shifting had never left her so exhausted. Then again, it was probably the blood loss, the fights, the running, the stress, and the fact it was eleven o’clock at night at the end of a very long day.
The sound of running water in the shower lulled her. Rather than fight it, Sophia grabbed the far edge of the comforter, pulled it over her, rolled onto her side, and let sleep come. They could talk later.
* * *
Well, hopefully that got all of it. Ian grinned. If not, maybe he and Sophia could scrub each other down after she’d healed up some, make sure the blood was off both of them. The grin fell away. Assuming she wasn’t still mad at him by then.
The discussion to come was bound to be humbling. He’d really messed up.
He shut off the water, dried off, pulled on a pair of athletic shorts, and returned to the bedroom. Smiling, he halted beside the bed. Sophia was in human form and sound asleep, the bowl beside her. Good. She needs the rest.
Shredded bandages were all over. He gathered the bits and pieces and left them in a pile on the floor then picked up the bowl to move it to the nightstand and frowned. She hadn’t eaten as much as he’d have liked. They’d have to work on that when she woke up again. For the moment, sleep was the best thing for her. He could use some himself.
Ian rounded the king-size bed, crawled to her side, and tucked himself against her back, one arm draped over her.
Her respirations changed for a moment, and she snuggled into him, then she settled.
He smiled and closed his eyes.
Chapter 33
Thursday, April 19, 2018
The uncanny feeling that he was being watched pulled Ian from sleep. At some point while he slept, he’d rolled onto his back. He opened his eyes and rolled his head on the pillow.
Morning light streamed through the sheer curtains over the windows gracing the north and east walls of the bedroom, providing ample light.
Sophia was curled up on her side, facing him, an arm tucked under her head. Her steady scrutiny didn’t soften much when he made eye contact. In fact, suspicion flashed in her eyes.
That made no sense. He must not be awake yet, or he’d misunderstood what he’d seen. He yawned and wiped a hand over his eyes.
Buy a little time. Wake up before getting into anything heavy. “Did you eat?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Did you want to die?”
“What?” He snapped his gaze to her in shock then frowned. “Why would you ask that?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I thought that’s why you got so upset with me for saving you.”
“No.” He rolled onto his side to face her. “That had nothing to do with it.”
Doubt flickered.
“I’ll admit, I’ve considered suicide throughout the past year, but it didn’t even cross my mind last night.”
She continued to stare at him, clearly unconvinced.
“You’ve changed everything.” Unable to resist, Ian reached out to touch the soft skin of her cheek. When she didn’t flinch or slap his hand away, relief coursed through him. “I wasn’t mad at you for saving me. I was mad because you scared me.”
“Scared you?” A tight frown of confusion etched lines in her face.
“You know about Germany.”
Sophia nodded slowly.
“I remember all of that. Every kill. Over a hundred men dead by my fangs and claws, and I remember all of it.”
“Okay… and…?”
“Brett told me last night that I killed five of the invaders—four plus Brimfield.” He let his hand fall to the bed. “I only recall two. The rest is blank.”
Worry replaced confusion. “You blacked out like I do.”
“Something like it, I think. While I was fighting Brimfield, two of his wolves jumped me, one after the other. I killed both of them and turned back to him. I don’t remember the rest.”
Her brow furrowed in thought. “What’s the next thing you do remember?”
The memory surged to the front of his mind, eliciting a shiver Ian couldn’t completely suppress. “Coming back to myself with the taste of your blood in my mouth. When I realized I was on you, biting you… then I realized we were covered in each other’s blood… I had to fight not to panic. I thought I caused your injuries. I was so sure my wolf had tried to kill you….” He took a deep breath in through his nose then exhaled the same way. Calm down. It’s past. She’s safe.
“That’s why you got mad? To cover up the fact you were afraid.”
“Yes, and no. I got mad because I thought you had defied my orders and I’d almost killed you. That scared me something fierce, knowing I had hurt you so badly and couldn’t remember it.” He gently cupped her cheek. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Sophia shrugged one shoulder and smiled faintly. “It wasn’t your fault. If I hadn’t already been in a couple of fights, you wouldn’t have hurt me at all, I don’t think, when you grabbed me. Your canine tooth just happened to catch the edge of one of my wounds. That’s all.”
“That’s pretty much what Brett told me. I mean, about you already being injured when you came to my rescue.”
The smile grew. “Is that what he called it? A rescue?”
“No. That’s my word for it, because that’s exactly what you did. Rescue me.” He smiled. “In more ways than one, actually. You know, until you came along, neither Brett nor I had ever seen a werewolf recover from the wolf taking total control. Then you showed up, and your out-of-control, wild-as-a-rabid-dog wolf submitted to me.” He grinned. “It took some power-play to convince her, but she let me take charge and took a nap. Then you resurfaced while I tried to figure out what to do about you. We’d never seen that, hadn’t even known it was possible. I suspect that’s why Brett took the initiative to call on you for help last night. He’s been thinking about what you’ve taught us over the past few days.”
Sophia frowned, and her gaze fell to the mattress. “Did I hurt anyone last night?”
“You bit me when I made a grab for you, but nobody else got hurt.” Ian held up his arm for her to see. “It’s all healed up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What happened? Why did your wolf take over? Do you know?”
“The pain was pretty bad by the time I got back down the stairs into the basement, and I kept thinking about you yelling at me and sending me away. I knew it was ridiculous and irrational—at least, I told myself it was—but I thought you wanted to die and be rid of me. Then I started thinking about my dad sending me away.” She shrugged. “That’s the last thing I remember until I woke up in the kennel with you.”
“For the record,”—he rose up on his elbow, slid closer, and leaned toward her until his face was only inches from hers—“I don’t want to be rid of you. For the first time in a very long time, I’m looking at today and the future instead of being stuck in the past. That’s because of you, a ghràidh.”
Sophia frowned. “You said that last night. I thought maybe I misunderstood you or my brain was scrambled. What does it mean?”
Ian smiled. “It’s old Scottish Gaelic. It means my love.”
Her breath caught, and her eyes widened. “You… love me?”
“You doubt that?”
“I just….” Without warning, a breathtaking smile lit her face. “I love you, too. I know it’s totally insane. We’ve known each other less than a week, and it’s been an exceptionally strange week at that, but I do.”
Joy filled his heart almost to bursting. His face hurt from smiling so big. “Good.” Gently gripping her chin in his free hand, he kissed her.
After a few moments, Sophia pulled away, grimacing. “I need a shower to get the blood off of me.” She rolled away from him and sat up on the edge of the bed, letting the comforter fall off her naked self.
To his relief and satisfaction, her wounds had healed. No trace of them marred smooth skin. He grinned. “Would you like some help?”
She glanced over her shoulder with a come-hither grin that kicked his heart into overdrive. “If you want.” She got up and strolled to the bathroom. No sign of weakness. Just an inviting sway of her hips.
Ian scrambled across the bed.
* * *
“The bodies are taken care of, and the sprinklers are on in the front and side yards to wash away the blood.”
I should care about this. I know that. But Ian’s sated body just wanted to lounge in the chair and relax. He’d left a thoroughly satisfied Sophia sound asleep in their room. They’d spent the day alternating between eating, sleeping, and engaging in other more interesting activities, reassuring each other that they’d both survived the night. Keeping her in their room had been the only way he’d thought to ensure she rested and ate. Granted, he hadn’t meant for them to get carried away with the “other”, but he wasn’t complaining.
Ian buried a smug grin, forced a serious expression, focused on the topic at hand, and raised a brow at his friend. “All those bodies are taken care of already?”
“Your pup is brilliant.” Brett grinned. “Apparently, he ran across an old mine ventilation shaft on their part of the property a couple of weeks ago. He planned to fill it in before Duncan started toddling around and might fall into it.” He stretched his legs out in front of him and braced his laced fingers behind his head. “He rappelled down right after he found it. It’s about forty-five or fifty feet deep, and the mine tunnel it connects to has collapsed. He decided it’d make a good grave for Brimfield’s pack. They hauled the bodies to it, dumped them in, and added dirt. It’s taken them most of today to fill the hole. They’re stacking boulders on top for good measure.”
“A mass grave. Not the most graceful or… reverent solution, but good thinking. The incinerator would have to run for days to deal with that many bodies. That might attract unwanted attention.”
“Exactly.”
“What about the survivor from Brimfield’s pack? Have you spoken with him?”
“Not much. Max spent part of the night talking to him. Jeremy was right. He’s as much a victim of Brimfield’s evil as Clara was. They kept him locked in a cell in their basement for the better part of the last six months. Barely fed him. Brimfield encouraged the others to beat on him when he
was made to run with the pack. They almost killed him on multiple occasions. He’s basically resorted to being in wolf form only during full moons. Otherwise, he stays human all the time.”
Ian scowled. Wrong on so many levels. That an alpha would treat someone so cruelly that he’d accepted responsibility for….
“O'Neil says Michael is a true submissive.”
“True submissive? How is that different from Jeremy or Max?” As the lowest-ranking members of the pack, both of them readily submitted to the authority of those over them. Neither had ever caused a problem. Well, other than Jeremy’s occasional hint of uncharacteristic boldness in teasing his alpha, like the day Sophia arrived, and Max suddenly revealing his wolf self to an FBI agent.
“They’re not submissives. They simply submit to the rest of us. That’s a matter of behavior, not personality. Michael doesn’t have an aggressive bone in him.”
“So… he won’t fight or be a threat to humans?” Ian shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”
“Apparently, Brady had a submissive in the pack before you and I joined. He died months before we encountered the pack. That’s why O'Neil understands what Michael is.” Brett cocked his head. “He even smells different than the rest of us. I’m not sure I can explain it.”
“I can.”
Ian turned in his chair to look at his mate as she closed the bedroom door and walked toward him. Wearing only one of his t-shirts. Was it wrong that he loved that she was wearing his clothes and carrying his scent? Mine. He gripped her hand when she moved close enough.
Sophia perched on the arm of his chair.
“You’ve smelled Michael?” Ian forced himself not to frown. No reason to be jealous. Despite the fact she’d protected the other man.