by Celia Kyle
Whatever was in her path sent her sprawling, arms waving and pin wheeling as she fell forward. She reached for the wall, fingers scraping against the flat surface, sending a new wave of agony down her spine. She’d straightened her digits while caring for Isaac, taking a moment to pop the bones into place and begging her mole for help in quickly healing the injuries. They’d come to a sort of agreement through the years. Kira would ask for assistance to heal the part of her body which needed it most and it would comply, accepting that human-Kira knew what would help them survive.
The fingers were first, convincing the small beast that they were safe despite the pain elsewhere and that she needed them to help Isaac.
It listened, but it’d only been hours. The bones weren’t quite solid enough to take her weight, and her ring finger ached and cracked beneath the sudden pressure. The snap buzzed through her, sending a bolt of pain along her nerves, and she swallowed the whimper threatening to escape. She’d feel better if she voiced the pain, but long-taught lessons were hard to override.
Despite her attempt to halt her fall, she continued tumbling toward the ground, her other hand outstretched and prepared to catch her weight. It’d still hurt, the burns on her arms not quite closed, but it couldn’t be helped.
The ground grew closer, or rather she continued to race toward the ground, until finally she collided with the worn wood. Her head bounced against the hard surface, sending yet more agony flaring through her.
God, today was a day of pain. Both emotional and physical agony battered her, memories brought forth by the aches assaulted her with every beat of her heart.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Her pulse mimicked each strike of her half-brother’s fists on flesh, each tear of his teeth through skin.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
She gasped and fought for air, refusing to allow injuries to steal her control. She’d been through this and survived. Hell, she’d endured worse. She could take this beating. The past overlaid the present, pulling her toward the last time he’d attacked. When he’d jumped her in the parking lot, ready to teach her how real wolves treated prey.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He broke the wooden bat that day. The one that’d turned brown with her dried blood.
No one knew that though, did they?
No. Never. Only the weakest pack members whined to the alpha and Kira was not weak.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The pool of blood surrounding her spread with every squeeze of her heart and tightening of muscles. She stopped feeling at one point, no longer sensing the pain he caused. Except… except she recognized his last actions, the spilling of liquid over her exposed flesh, the fiery burn that raced over her nerves.
“Here’s a new present…”
The mole had trouble healing the damage, but it had. Slowly. Carefully. Painfully.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Except it was more like creak, thud, squeak, thump, gasp.
The changing sounds were enough to pull her to the present, to force herself to think of her surroundings.
“Kira?” The deep baritone confirmed her brother wasn’t lurking around the corner or pummeling her damaged body. “Kira?” Panic filled his voice. “Kira!”
Panic. She recognized panic. He should suppress that emotion. It only encouraged the rabid animals. The scent sent them into a frenzy that almost killed her. She couldn’t be afraid, never afraid…
Warm hands touched her, squeezed her, pulled at her skin and she reacted without thought. She’d always fight. He knew that and she waited for his gleeful cackles to fill the air. He enjoyed it, claws digging into her as she battled him.
Wolf versus mole. Wolf would always win, but mole would go down fighting.
Always fighting. Always, always, always—
“Fuck, Kira. Dammit, stop.” The snarl was… familiar? Yes, wasn’t it always the same? Of course those who tried to kill her were familiar. It was the same group each and every time.
Her brother needed new friends. At least a few that’d put her out of her misery and do the job right already.
A heavy weight pressed against her, covering her from head to toe. Something new. They always reached for her arms and legs, leaving her stomach vulnerable.
“Fuck it. Stop, dammit.”
He cursed. She should tell Mia so he could put ten bucks in the… swear…
Swear jar?
Mia?
Kira breathed deeply, pushing past her pain to taste the surrounding flavors. Sweet, heat, musk, man. Those aromas blanketed her, covering her in them. Not just in the air, but physically as well.
She blinked, finally seeing the blurry male above her, remembering the scent and man that held her captive.
“Isaac?”
“There you are,” he murmured. “You scared the hell out of me.”
Him? She scared herself. Or rather, the past assaulted her and captured her, refusing to be dislodged.
“What happened?”
No, she wasn’t going to talk about it. About anything. She was Kira Kolanowski, woman without a past.
“Nothing. I tripped and my hand and…”
In one swift move, Isaac was on his knees beside her, hands moving over her body, pressing and sliding over her skin. She recognized his examination, knew it was a Healer taking stock of his patient. She’d lived through enough of them, after all. He was gentle, fingers carefully prodding and stroking. His hands stuttered when he got to hers, gliding over the bent digit.
“I need to splint this,” his words were hoarse. “I’ll call—”
“I have several under the bathroom sink upstairs.”
He shot her a surprised look, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “We’re going to talk about why you have splints inside your house and why you fought me as if your life depended on it.”
Kira grimaced and the words burst free before she could hold them back. “More often than not, it did.”
The sudden stillness of his body wasn’t a continued burst of surprise. No, it was a predator’s quiet as it prepared to pounce. “I see.”
He didn’t, but she let him believe his own words. Zoey, her very best friend in the whole world, didn’t even know the truth.
“Let’s get you up.” Those warm palms skated over her, his grip firm but gentle as he slowly helped her stand.
Wetness coated her right leg and a glance revealed she carried a new wound in the middle of her shin. She looked around and found the culprit. At some point, someone used her small stepstool. Instead of placing it back in the crawlspace beneath the stairs, they’d left it leaning against the wall. Had the sun been shining, she would have seen the bright colors that covered the handle. Had she bothered paying attention instead of depending on her memory to get her to the top of the steps, she would have walked around it. Instead, she stumbled and hurt herself further.
Oh, joy.
“C’mon. I have you.” He kept his tone soothing and calm as he led her up the stairs.
The deep vibrations eased her continued anxiety and she followed him, allowing him to safeguard her.
Their trip took longer than normal, but not as long as expected, and suddenly she was in her bathroom, sitting on her counter as Isaac dug through the cabinets. It gave her a chance to look at him, to see the new red lines that were too bright to be healing skin.
“You shouldn’t have gotten out of bed. You’re not fully healed.” She reached for a line on his bicep, fingers coming away sticky and stained. “You hurt yourself again.”
She felt his glare but didn’t care. Heh. She rhymed.
“And you re-broke your finger and sliced up your shin.”
She didn’t have to tell him he was right. It was a bit obvious.
Unhurried hands got to work, Isaac apologizing as he mended her. She remained quiet—another thing she’d learned over the years in her father’s home. She could endure anything and not make a sound. A gift in some ways.
The snap of her fi
nger popping into place didn’t cause a flinch. Neither did the rush of agony on its heels. The shin was a simple gash that her mole would heal in no time, and she allowed the animal to focus on that wound. She was with Isaac and from what she’d heard, Vanessa was at the hospital. She wouldn’t need to be in fighting shape right away. The beastie could do as it wished.
He secured the splint in place, additional twinges of pain hitting her nerves, but nothing alarming.
“How did you know I re-broke it?” She knew he’d been out of it. First when he was shifted and then ever more so in the shower.
One last piece of tape was pressed into place and then he traced her palm, finger sliding over the new scarring she’d acquired while caring for him. Even though they marred her skin, she couldn’t regret them. The world was a better place with him in it.
“Because even through the haze of pain, I watched you. Because I know you.” He raised his gaze to hers, his bear’s black orbs peering from behind his normal chocolate irises. “Because you’re mine.”
“You’re also naked.” Not that she was ogling or anything. Okay, she ogled. Maybe not when he was hauled into her bed by his father, but definitely now.
Ogle, ogle, ogle—with another ogle for good measure.
Surreptitiously, of course. It was probably the only time she’d see him naked and even if she couldn’t see him well… It was still a naked Isaac.
Naked, naked, naked—with another naked for good measure.
Thinking about his nakedness kept her from thinking about his words, how final they seemed, and how much she wanted them to be true.
*
Isaac tightened his muscles, tensing and curling his hands into fists so he wouldn’t snatch Kira to him. So he wouldn’t pull her close, rub his body against hers as he buried his face in her hair and nuzzled her neck. He’d scrape his fangs along the column of her throat and then…
His cock twitched and his body’s reaction was immediately followed by a twitch of her nose. His dick filled further, and she flared her nostrils, drawing in more air.
Dammit, he didn’t want her scenting his arousal. Not when he was naked before her, bare to her blurry gaze as he patched her up. He focused on those facts, reminding his human body, and his eager bear, that she’d been injured. Her finger was broken, her skin was raw, and she had a seeping gash on her shin.
None of it was healing as fast as it should, but she was a weremole, not a bear. He didn’t know how quickly they recovered from injuries, and it wasn’t like there was a handbook he could consult.
“Yeah, well, I heard you fall and didn’t want to stop and put on pants.” He reached out, unable to keep his hands to himself, and stroked her cheek. “Especially when the scent of your blood called to me.”
Kira wrinkled her little nose and he knew he was a goner when that little movement aroused him. “Is it a carnivore thing? Because moles aren’t on the menu.”
Oh, they were, just not the way she meant.
“No, it’s a you thing.” He didn’t want to give her any more time to think about what he’d said.
His bear demanded they care for her, which included putting her into bed with them so she could heal and be under his protection as well. Vanessa’s actions proved his Kira needed someone to look out for her, and he refused to allow that job to fall to anyone else. Not when she belonged to him.
“C’mon. Let’s get you in bed.” He nudged her, intent on getting her down from the counter and shuffling toward her welcoming pillow.
“Wait.” She nudged him back. “Did you put everything away?”
He glanced at the scattered supplies. “No, but I’ll do it when we get up.”
She glared at him. “One, there is no ‘we’ getting up. You need to lie down, but I gotta—”
“Go to bed with me.”
“Put things away and clean up downstairs. Everything has a place. If they’re not put away, I trip, break a finger and slice up my shin.” She pushed the words through gritted teeth and he paused, letting her words envelope him.
The bear snarled and demanded they do exactly as she asked. They couldn’t risk their Kira. “You’re right. I’ll put you in bed and I promise I’ll put the supplies back exactly where I found them.” Her expression said she was skeptical, not quite believing him. “I promise.”
“Not like Mia?”
Isaac frowned. “What about Mia?”
“She was the one who ‘helped’ put the pots and pans in the kitchen just before I met you.”
“Ah.” He understood now; both her frustration then and her worry now. Mia, while a wonderful Itana, wasn’t exactly the best at organization. Cleaning wasn’t an issue, but tidy was still an abstract concept to the woman. Unable to keep his hands to himself, he reached for her unharmed hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll place it exactly as I found it, Kira. You can trust in this. I will never do anything that would cause you harm.” He tightened his hold once again. “Now, let me take care of you.”
“I don’t need taking care of,” she sniped, but there wasn’t much heat in the words.
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t believe her. She was a woman he wanted to wrap in cotton and protect with every ounce of his strength. Which, at the moment, wasn’t much. “Bed.”
Isaac nudged her again, holding tight as he lowered her feet to the ground and not releasing her when he led her toward the bed in the middle of the room. When they reached the soft mattress, he tugged aside the blankets and helped her slide beneath the sheets and comforter. He hadn’t walked her around to the clean side, to the spot unblemished by the remnants of his shower. No, he wanted her surrounded by his scent, wanted her mole to accept him.
When she let her eyes drift close with a soft sigh and wiggled into a more comfortable position, he figured the animal was well on its way to welcoming him.
Good. He didn’t want to have to press too hard. He would have, of course. He wasn’t letting her go. He didn’t know what the fuck to do about the Southeast Itan or Healer. He didn’t know what the hell he’d tell his family or moving or… anything.
Because no matter his choices, as long as any plan included Kira, he didn’t give a damn about anyone else’s opinions. Only hers.
The click-clack of nails on wood reached him a moment before Ebenezer peered around the corner, tongue hanging from his mouth.
Okay, he cared about hers and Ebenezer’s.
But if the dog kept peeing on his fucking things… His bear recommended eating the animal, but Isaac knew the truth and sighed.
If the dog kept peeing on his stuff, he’d just buy more stuff.
He was such a pussy.
With a shake of his head, he padded his naked ass around the bed and crawled in beside Kira. He didn’t touch her, didn’t dare place a hand on her skin. If he did, he’d have her, coax her toward accepting him and that wasn’t acceptable. Especially in her condition. Not because he couldn’t be careful of her injuries, but because he wanted her to welcome him with open arms and knew if he held her, kissed and caressed her, he’d make love to her.
He’d claim her as his own.
They didn’t know each other well enough for that.
Neither had Ty. Or Van. Or Keen…
He brushed aside the animal’s thoughts. He wasn’t his brothers.
So, instead of giving in to the desire to touch her, he simply stared. He allowed his gaze to trace the gentle curves of her face, watching as her animal healed the bruises marring her cheek. The purple slowly faded to pale blue, then the disgusting yellow-green until pale, clear skin was left. Some of the scratches disappeared further, pink flesh left in their place.
He watched it all.
And it wasn’t creepy. He reminded himself of that fact. He was ensuring his Kira was becoming whole once again, that’s all.
Right. He might believe that someday.
Exhaustion pulled at him, and as much as he ached and his human body tugged him toward sleep, the bear gave him the strength to re
main awake. They had to so they could watch over Kira.
Their Kira.
Minutes ticked past, Kira healing beneath his gaze while his body did the same. New scars formed, ruining his already damaged skin, but he didn’t give a damn. He was alive, heart still beating, blood still pumping through his veins so he could lay here beside Kira and watch her sleep.
At least, until she spoke.
“You’re watching me sleep,” she huffed. “Is there a reason? Did I grow another head? Or are you lulling me into a sense of security before you wake me up with a knife against my throat. Or your claws. Teeth would have woken me before you got a good grip, though. Just as an F.Y.I.”
Flat. Without hesitation. As if they were thoughts that regularly spun through her mind.
The bear rose up, enraged that her thoughts had ever gone in that direction. His skin stretched, poking and prodding his still-healing wounds, while his bones ached with the need to snap and reshape.
“Why,” he paused and shoved his goddamned animal back in its cage. The bear wouldn’t help them right now. Not when he scented the first flickering of fear from her. “Would you ever have to consider those options?”
She didn’t say a word, simply kept her eyes closed and breathing even. Hell, Ebenezer’s huffing breaths and pants silenced.
She still didn’t speak.
“Kira?”
“I heard you.”
“Are you going to answer?” Before I tear this place apart.
A knife… claws… teeth.
“Are you going to come after me if I fall asleep? Are you going to shift your hand and press your claw to my skin so if I jerk away it’ll dig into my throat and kill me?”
Isaac forced himself to breathe. This was the anger-filled, politely raging Kira he’d met that first day. Not Kira, some of my friends call me KK and Colon to… the…
“No. I would never. You’re mine. I said that and I sure as fuck meant it.” He couldn’t push the growl from his voice. Then again, he didn’t try very hard either.
“We’re gonna talk about that whole ‘mine’ thing. But I’ll focus on your no first. If you’re not going to attack me in my sleep, then the why and who don’t matter.” She wiggled and tugged the blanket tighter around herself.