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A Wolf's Desire (Wolf Mountain Peak Book 2)

Page 67

by Sarah J. Stone


  “A simple rain maybe,” Kate retorted, running her hand through her blonde hair. “This is a freaking storm we’re talking about here. How in the world are we going to drive back to New York in this weather?”

  At that, Monica’s smile was wiped off her face. Kate had a point. New York City was more than two hours away. The slippery roads were not what worried her the most. It was their narrowness that sent shivers up her spine, and any potential landslides that her friends could get caught in. The big rocks on either side of the road could crush either of their cars as if they were made out of tinfoil.

  “You’re not,” Monica spoke, her voice firm as she fixed her gaze on Kate. “You’re staying right here. You sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

  “But I have yoga class tomorrow morning,” Julia stated, intensifying her stare on Monica. “I can’t miss it.”

  “Red… seriously,” Kate cast a fierce glance over at Julia. “The roads are going to be flooded, not to mention the tight hairpins, and all you can think about is missing a yoga class; for real? I’m staying. Mon, I need to borrow a set of pajamas.”

  “Just go get them,” Monica urged, winking at her as Julia let out a sigh of disappointment. “My suitcases are in my bedroom, right where we left them. Pajamas are in the green one.”

  “Suck it up, Red,” Kate smirked, brushing past Julia as she sat down on the smaller couch across from Monica. “You’re all mine for tonight.”

  “Very funny,” Julia groaned, narrowing her eyes at her. At that moment, a loud, banging noise at the front door grabbed their attention. Tension tightened the back of Monica’s neck, the rain lashing against the window of her living room and her porch as Kate glanced down at her. But Monica would not maintain eye contact with her. She settled her gaze on the door, feeling the adrenaline rising in her chest. In a split second, her front door was rocked by a subsequent, louder thump, forcing her to jump from her seat. Monica bid her time, skeptical as to how she should handle this, hesitating to take another step. However, the banging ceased, bringing a sense of relief to her friends. Still, she would not let this go uninvestigated. The two noises soundedand mainly felt–deliberate. Whoever hit her front door did so for a reason. Without much thought, Monica started down the hall that led to the front of her house.

  “Girl, what the hell are you doing?” Kate wondered in a voice filled with tension as she followed her friend. “Aren’t you scared?”

  “Burglars don’t knock, Kate,” Monica muttered, her pulse rising by the second as her confident footsteps brought her closer and closer to her destination. Sucking in a deep breath, she reached down and wrapped her fingers around the doorknob. The sight on the porch that greeted her sent shockwaves down her spine as she swung the door open. A very big man was lying right at her front door, face down and naked as water, mixed with blood, dripped down his massive back. Immediately, Monica released the doorknob, lifting both hands to cover her mouth. In her amazement, she discovered the source of the bleeding: four deep lacerations, parallel to one another, just below his hairline.

  “Holy God…” Kate whispered, stopping behind her friend. “What happened to him?”

  “No time for that.” Monica spoke too fast, whirling her head to the right. “Jules, put a sheet on the bigger couch, please. Then, come over here, will you?”

  “A sheet?” Julia squinted at her. “Wh…”

  “Please!” Monica interrupted, her voice flooded with fear. “Just do it!”

  “You’re not going to treat him right here, are you?” Kate asked, surprise written all over her face. “I mean, shouldn’t we call 9-1-1?”

  “Look at him, Kate,” Monica pointed down at the stranger, her chest heaving. “He may be dead by the time they get here.”

  “All right,” Julia said, jogging toward them. “The couch is ready. Whoa!” She opened her eyes wide in disbelief as she noticed the man, lying on the ground.

  “Jules, grab his arm,” Monica urged while stepping over him. “Kate, you grab the other. Flip him over.”

  Julia and Kate bent down as her friend moved around him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, they tried to oblige.

  “Damn!” Kate said on an exhale, her knuckles white from gripping his skin, “This guy weighs a ton!”

  “Three, two, one… push,” Monica commanded. Kate’s grip instantly became tighter again, and this time, she and Julia were able to flip him over. Monica’s heart sank as her suspicions were confirmed. The man on her doorstep could not have passed out as a result of a few scratches, regardless of their depth. He was simply too big and seemed way too strong. His muscles were huge; Monica could see the heavily defined ridges of his abs, his cut pecs, and his bulging biceps even in the dim light. The damage on his torso was much greater than his back. There were many more, even deeper scratches, low on his stomach, his chest, and his forearms. He also had a deep bite mark on his left shoulder. Furthermore, his left cheekbone was badly bruised, and he had blood on the edge of his mouth.

  “Guys, I’m sorry, but we need to take him inside,” Monica sighed, lifting her gaze up to meet Julia’s.

  “No countdown this time,” Kate spoke her mind. “Grab his legs.”

  Monica bent down and did as told. Gritting her teeth, she flexed her muscles and lifted up with all her might, holding her breath as Kate and Julia did the same. Slowly, her friends started to carry him inside. Monica stepped into her living room and kicked the door shut behind her, staring down at the unfortunate man’s wounds. Upon reaching her couch, Julia and Kate waited long enough for her to move around before they gently eased him down on it. The stranger was so tall that Monica had to set his feet down on the armrest. She sprinted across the living room and turned left down the corridor that led to her bathroom. Grabbing her first aid kit and a white towel, she strode out and joined her friends once more.

  “All right,” Monica sighed, dropping to her knees beside him. “Kate, cover his genitals with this, will you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Kate gave a wicked smile. “Have either of you seen the elephant in the room?”

  “I’m a little too busy to respond to sexual innuendos, darling,” Monica spoke, a hint of annoyance in her voice as she checked for a pulse in his neck. It was rather faint and slow, especially for a man his size.

  “I’m not talking about his penis, Dr. Stiff,” Kate rejected that notion. “It’s his body. It’s perfect in every way. Abs, pecs, huge back, strong legs, and that face looks pretty, even with that nasty bruise on it. Where did this guy come from, Planet Gorgeous?”

  Monica chose to disregard Kate’s comment as she reached up to open his eyelid. The sky-blue color of his eyes sent chills rippling across her chin. Still, the young brunette could not afford to stare at him. Pressing the tiny button on her flashlight, she watched as his pupil contracted.

  “Good,” she said, her voice calm, “no concussion. I need to sterilize his wounds and stop the bleeding before I stitch him up. Kate, I need a bowl of water to clean him up, too.”

  “I’m on it,” Kate said. Monica had some time to scan his body. The stranger had clearly lost a lot of blood. He was pale, but none of his wounds could justify such quick blood loss. Apparently, whatever had happened to him had taken place long before he knocked on her door. It was getting clearer to her that he had fought with a wild animal. No human could have possibly done that to a huge man like him. Nevertheless, something puzzled Monica, something she could not explain: his nudity. Where had all his clothes gone? Had a bear or a wolf caught him napping, naked in the middle of nowhere? No. That was too farfetched.

  “Julia, thanks a lot for all your help,” she told her friend. “You can go to my bedroom if you want. Stitching people up can be–”

  “Gruesome,” Julia finished her sentence. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  Monica gave her an appreciative nod before taking bandages, sterile tweezers, and gauzes out of her first aid kit. As she began to clean up t
he stranger’s wound on the left side of his abdomen, she noticed tiny particles of dirt deep within the lacerations. No surprises there. He had battled against a predator. If anything, Monica expected to find that.

  “Water’s ready,” Kate announced, carrying a blue bowl as she returned to the living room. “Will you call 9-1-1 later?”

  “There’s no need for that,” Monica claimed, tossing bloody gauze on the small table on her right. “I’ll only call if he deteriorates.”

  “Aren’t you just a little bit scared?” Kate inquired.

  “I’m scared of him dying in my living room,” Monica attempted a commanding tone, glaring up at her. “Please, put some pressure on that chest wound.”

  With Kate’s help, Monica was soon able to stop the bleeding. Her friend’s words about calling an ambulance were still lingering in her mind, but in her opinion, she had done the right thing. She was a doctor. She would not dismiss anyone in such dire need of her assistance. Monica feared that he would bleed to death on his way to the hospital, and she would have to carry this heavy burden for the rest of her life. She would spend her every waking moment wondering if he would still be alive had she not decided to treat him herself.

  Later in the night, Kate excused herself and left her friend alone with him. Once again, Monica checked his pulse. It was stronger; somewhat quicker. Relief flashed through her eyes; she had saved his life. The odds of him deteriorating were slim. The thought of waking him up crossed her mind. She was curious to know what had happened to him. However, she quickly rejected it. Administering a powerful drug could have side effects, like an allergic reaction to it. Monica would not jeopardize his life just to satisfy her curiosity. Finding out more about his encounter with an apex predator could wait until the morning. Right now, they both needed some rest.

  Chapter Three

  The searing pain in his chest woke Raul from his deep sleep. He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he endured the agony. A soft light entered his line of sight. Raul threw a quick look around him. He didn’t recognize his surroundings. The house he was in didn’t resemble his cabin. There were no logs up on the ceiling or a fireplace in the corner. Glancing down, he saw a candle on a table, surrounded by boxes of gauze, bandages, and a bottle of alcohol. Another glance down his body told him what had transpired. Raul was covered in bandages; some of them even had small spots of blood on them. He could even feel the threads of stitches on his skin. To his dismay, he had ended up in a human’s home, and that human had taken care of him.

  Within seconds, his nostrils were overwhelmed by lingering scents–medical supplies–but those were quickly masked by three separate, much sweeter scents: human women. Each one had a different scent. One smelled like cinnamon, one like almond, and the most intriguing, like roses. The flowery one was stronger. Looking across from him, he spotted his savior sitting across from him on the couch, arms folded across her chest, head tilted to the side, eyes closed, with a few of her long, whiskey curls draping her cheeks. Raul swiped the towel away from his body. He sat up, his gaze locked on her, watching as her chest rhythmically rose up and down. Getting off the couch, he smiled to himself, unable to believe that this human had been so kind to him. And better than that, she was a sight for sore eyes. Even in her pink pajamas, he could see every soft curve of her voluptuous body. But as he closed in on her, Raul couldn’t help but marvel at her gorgeous face–soft, deeply tanned skin that glowed, high cheekbones, luscious lips, and a French nose.

  He stopped right in front of her. Bending his knees, he sat down on his feet. Raul reached up. The sensation of her curls in his hand made his body tingle as he tucked a few tendrils of her hair behind her ear. He tilted his head up, desperate to taste her mouth, even though he knew very well that a human woman was forbidden to him. His lips touched hers tentatively. It was as if Raul was afraid he would break her. He drowned in her scent, lightly caressing the delicate skin on her cheek.

  “Thank you,” he said in a near whisper. Monica’s eyes twitched as a broad smile spread across his face. Her brows popped up in shock as their gazes met. Raul lifted his free hand to her mouth. The last thing he wanted was to scare her.

  “Shhh…” he admonished. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to thank you, okay?”

  Monica nodded her response. Slowly, he slid his hand down her face. Raul had lingered there too long. He had expressed his gratitude. Now, he had to leave as fast as possible.

  “You shouldn’t be up.” Her feathery voice tore the silence as he arose to his imposing, six-foot-four stature. “You should be resting. What happened to you?”

  Her simple question turned his happy smile into a bitter one as Raul recollected the reason why he had ended up at her house. All the same, a brutal fight between him and two more of his kind was something that a human could not comprehend. He might have been grateful to her, but sharing his secret with her was out of the question. It would only complicate their lives.

  “You have a good night now.” He spoke in a calm voice, dragging his gaze away from her. Raul turned and strode off as the torrential rain whipped against Monica’s living room window.

  “Will you at least give me your name?” Monica requested, her voice shaking. “I’m Monica. Monica Mills. I’m a doctor.”

  Raul froze halfway through her living room, his eyes a blazing yellow as a low growl started in his throat. He wouldn’t answer. He couldn’t. Her question had bothered him. She was being too inquisitive. For his savior’s sake, his identity had to remain a secret. Yet another stream of lightning flashed and sizzled as he whirled his head around. Monica’s face went slack in utter disbelief as he glared down at her over his shoulder. She curled up in her seat as he raised his upper lip in a terrifying grimace. A wave of regret washed over him. Raul had done precisely what he had been meaning to avoid: scare her. Sadly, though, he didn’t have time to make up for it. He turned his attention back to her front door. The cool, wet breeze blew right into his face as he swung it open. With a few quick strides, he crossed the empty street.

  Raul jumped over a short bush, finding himself at the top end of Sutton Valley–his home. Mud gave way beneath his feet as he started down the slope. The heavy rain blurred his vision as he picked up the sound of Monica’s door being slammed shut. He looked back longingly at her house, wishing he could go to her and apologize. In fact, Raul continued to stare at it, putting distance between him and the town of Shandaken, until the slope blocked his view.

  “So long, good doctor. It is better this way.”

  By the time he reached an acceptable spot, water was streaming down his entire body, soaking bandages and skin alike. Raul ran both hands through his short, black hair, the vapors from his breath clouding his vision as he readied himself for what was about to follow.

  Ribs rippled cracked like dry twigs. Neck, fingers, muscles, and cells reshaped with agonizing pain in just a few seconds as the wolf ripped out of his skin. Massive and dark gray, with a few contrasting shades of light gray on his chest, a diamond-shaped patch of white on his right shoulder. Raul’s wolf tossed his head back. His loud howl resounded through the valley just before he started his short trip back to his family. However, for some reason he couldn’t yet understand, the fear in Monica’s eyes was swirling in his mind. Loping through the brush, he could still recall her reaction, wishing that he had kept his cool just for a few more seconds. At the same time, though, he realized that this was one of a series of mistakes he had made that night. Yes, it wasn’t as important as his bloody fight earlier, but it was a mistake all the same. This was not a way to treat his savior.

  Furthermore, Raul had a bad feeling about the welcome of his brothers. He had been in a fight with the two wolves he should stay away from: Warrick and Bryant, his alpha and his lieutenant, a fight that almost claimed his life. As the oldest of them, Raul should have known better than to engage them. He should be the one to teach them some restraint, and yet he had
failed to do so. Still, Dean and Ray were his blood. The brothers were close, and despite their occasional argument, they would understand as soon as he explained the circumstances of his fight against their alpha and his lieutenant.

  Raul soon crossed the border of the balsam fir tree forest that encircled Paxton, the town of their ancestors. Ears ticked high, hackles raised, and tail straight out behind him, he loped through the trees, his big paws crushing small twigs as he sped past. Tipping his chin up, he hoped to catch any familiar scents, but to no avail. The only thing he could smell was wet soil mixed with soaked wood. As he sprinted toward the edge of town, however, he recalled Monica’s scent: roses. That simple fact made him angry at himself. He hardly knew her, and he could not take his mind off of her.

  “Snap out of it, Raul. She’s human. Humans are forbidden.”

  Maybe it was her nature that attracted to him. Or it could be her impeccable looks. Or maybe it was all of the above. At any rate, Raul had to put this behind him. A relationship with a human woman was punishable by death. Should he pursue her, he would put her life at risk as well.

  The lights in his cabin peeked through the trees as he climbed the short hill at the end of the forest. Raul expected to catch a whiff of his brothers’ scents, and eventually, he did, but not until he stepped into his front yard. Moreover, it was rather weak, a clear sign that they had left long before he arrived. He shifted into human form. His legs lengthened and thickened, his fur disappeared, his muzzle shortened, his claws retracted and reformed, his hips changed shape, and his eye color returned to its usual, sky-blue shade. Raul took a few, furtive glances around him as he climbed the short staircase that led to his front door. He grabbed and turned the golden doorknob on the left side, eager to put some clothes back on. It had been a strange, long day for him. He could do without the embarrassment.

  Raul sprinted up the stairs to his bedroom, his chest heaving from exertion. Without wasting any more time, he quickly dried off, put on a pair of boxers, black jeans, and a red sweater. As he shoved his feet into his boots, though, Dean’s scent filled his nostrils. Before he knew it, he heard paws galloping in the distance. Raul rose from his bed and went to the window. A pair of yellow eyes was staring up at him. Dean curled up his lips and threatened a growl as Ray’s loud bark tore the night. He wasn’t far behind. Adding to Raul’s discomfort, his brother had also settled his gaze on him.

 

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