Running from the Wolves (Wolfsbane Book 1)

by Lola Glass

  I’d ask about her moving because of me after I showered off the blood and sweat that came with being locked in a trunk and nearly abducted.

  Until I saw myself in the mirror, I hadn’t realized how injured I was. No wonder Roman had flipped out. The craziness of everything distracted me from my many aches and pains—including the hideous appearance of my nose. I prodded it gently and bit down hard on my lip at the fiery pain that had my eyes tearing up.

  Grabbing my phone, I quickly texted Dr. Grant.

  Me: How do you fix your own broken nose?

  Grant: You don’t

  Shit.

  Grant: If it’s not bleeding, Roman can bring you to my room and I’ll do it.

  With a huff, I dropped my phone on the counter. That would be an after-shower problem. If the damn thing ever stopped bleeding.

  Stepping into the shower, I shut my eyes and let the hot water rinse away the evidence of more shit Ledger was to blame for. As my muscles relaxed, I really started to feel those bruises. I was hurting bad when I stepped out with clean hair and skin.

  Jamie whistled when I finally made it out of the bathroom. She stood in her kitchen, throwing frozen fruit into a blender.

  “Those are some massive bruises.”

  I made a face and moving my nose to do it nearly made me cry.

  “None as bad as the nose.” I gestured to it, slowly making my way into her kitchen and sitting down on one of the stools attached to the island. Soft piano music played from a smart speaker on the counter as she continued adding things to the blender. “Peanut butter in a smoothie?”

  “You won’t taste it.” Jamie promised.

  I took her word for it, accepting the greenish smoothie that filled the glass to the very brim. Lifting it to my lips, I sipped some and nearly gagged.

  “Holy peanut butter and kale.” I coughed. She scowled at me.

  “It’s good. Drink it.”

  “As good as the drinks Kyler had you making.” I muttered, tilting the glass back and swallowing as much smoothie as I could manage like it was one big shot.

  “Oliver likes this recipe.” Jamie protested, though her face looked nearly as green as the drink in her glass. “It’s good.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” I dropped the empty glass on the table.

  When Jamie finished her smoothie she led me into her spare bedroom and told me to take a nap. The feeling of being taken care of was so foreign to me that I didn’t dare argue. Of course, I only managed a few minutes of sleep before nightmares jolted me awake. I stayed in the spare room for a solid twenty minutes, staring at the ceiling and trying to deal with my anxiety before creeping out.

  Still not wanting to offend Jamie, I peeked around the corner and saw her snoozing away on her couch, hands under her head like princesses in movies. I pulled out my phone as I slipped out the door and crossed the hall, texting her:

  Me: Thanks for the gross smoothie and the company. Come to my place if you wake up and don’t want to be alone.

  When I was back home, I cooked up some real food and turned the music on loud. Quiet was something I really couldn’t deal with at the moment.

  I was only a quarter through the giant pile of tacos I’d made myself when someone knocked on the door. I swept it open to a bleeding, half-naked Roman, and my eyebrows lifted.

  “What happened to you?”

  “Snapped at an enforcer. He snapped back. Ended up challenging me for Alpha.”

  I blinked.

  Not what I expected to hear.

  “Which one?”

  “Roland. You didn’t know him; he was too volatile to protect you.”

  “And you’re not volatile?” I lifted an eyebrow.

  “Didn’t use to be.” He leaned up against the doorway and closed his eyes. Roman looked…

  Tired.

  And not just because of the fight with the enforcer, although it couldn’t have been easy. He’d been battling his beast side, too. Which was partially my fault. My guilt was strong, so I pulled the door open wide. He eyed it.

  “Come on. I’ll get you cleaned up and you can call Grant to come fix my nose.”

  “How much does it hurt?” Roman asked, stepping inside before I had a chance to change my mind. His question was stupid, so I ignored it. His phone was already in his hand, fingers flying across the screen for a moment. His phone buzzed, and he paused. “Grant can’t come in your territory. For my sanity and his.” He shot me a hesitant look. “How do you feel about coming to my apartment?”

  I shrugged, grabbed my taco plate, and off we went.

  “How close was the fight?” I asked as the elevator moved upward.

  “Not close.”

  He glanced sideways at me.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

  “You can’t be everywhere and do everything. Sometimes shit happens.” I stated facts, not wanting to remind myself of any of the day’s earlier events or look into them too closely. “It’s not your fault.”

  Roman’s head jerked in a nod.

  “I’m still sorry.”

  I said nothing. Nothing I could’ve said would change what had gone down or the fact that sleeping wouldn’t be on the table for the next few days.

  He led me into his apartment, 4501. The same one I’d followed his scent to during my panic attack.

  Leather mixed with chrome and dark wood, making the place into a modern, rustic sanctuary. The place looked nice, but its real draw was the way everything smelled purely like Roman. Not a single other scent mingled with the Alpha’s.

  A girl could get high on that smell alone.

  I’d screw up the place’s smell, which I hoped he didn’t mind.

  He disappeared into a door at the side of the room that I assumed led to his bedroom. When he came back he had a shirt, a pair of sweats, and a baseball cap. He handed them to me.

  “Pretty sure I’m already dressed.” I gestured to my bra and legging clad body without accepting the bundle of heavenly-smelling clothes.

  “Grant already made a move on you once.” He reminded me. “You’re bleeding this time, so you need to be extra careful.”

  I wanted to protest. A whiff of the air around me gave me a solid reason not to: if Roman smelled any better, I’d want to jump his bones as much as Grant apparently wanted to jump mine. Scent was definitely powerful.

  So I put his clothes on over my own. No changing necessary.

  Roman leaned in and sniffed the air around me. When he straightened, he wore a frown.

  “That’s exactly the expression I want people to make when they sniff me.” I gestured to his wrinkled face.

  “You still smell too damn good.” He grumbled. With a quick sweep up and down, he grabbed my damp, long braid off my back and twisted it, stuffing it up into the back of the ball cap. Then he hugged me.

  “Dude, you’re all bloody.” I protested.

  “This is the best way to make you stink.” He rubbed his hands all over my shoulders and back. I focused on my throbbing nose so I wouldn’t get all hot and bothered by the contact.

  As if him touching me could make me stink.

  His hands were so freaking big. So was the rest of him…

  That train of thought was hella dangerous so I geared my mind right back to the nose pain.

  Roman opened the door for Grant a minute later, and the guy sniffed the air.

  “Does no one ever come in here but you?” he raised his eyebrows at the Alpha, who shrugged.

  “The last person other than me was my sister, a few months ago.”

  “Well, I can barely smell Henley.” Grant declared. “Nice work.”

  The three of us crossed the hall to Roman’s office to keep Grant out of his apartment, too. Roman liked his space.

  When he saw my nose he decided it wasn’t too bad of a break and set it himself, warning me to ice it and not sleep on my face. Considering the pain, that wouldn’t be a problem. The doctor visit ended faster than I’d expected an
d Grant left me and Roman alone.

  We went back to his apartment and I stepped out of Roman’s sweats, dropping them and his hat on the table, leaving his t-shirt on. It smelled too good to take it off.

  “Do you have a rag or something? I can clean your cuts.” I suggested. Why I did so was beyond me, but plenty of what was going on with Roman and I felt beyond me.

  He retrieved a damp towel and a thing of hand soap, then sat facing the back of one of his kitchen chairs when I started cleaning his wounds. They weren’t horrible, but weren’t nothing either. His skin relaxed under my fingers, and I could’ve purred at my effect on him.

  You know, if I was part cat rather than wolf.

  “So Arla hasn’t been in here for a few months?” I prodded. There was a lot I didn’t know about my Alpha, and I was curious.

  “We always hang out at the offices or her place. I like my territory to be mine and mine alone, and Arla gets it.” He was even starting to sound relaxed. “Why does that surprise you?”

  “I thought you’d have friends come to hang out or something at least.” I said, slipping my hand from under his to resume wiping blood from his back. It had started to dry in most places and wasn’t coming off easily.

  “Not many people want to be friends with their Alpha. My enforcers are the closest I have to that.”

  And he’d just killed one of them.

  “Ah.” I bit my lip.

  “Don’t feel bad for me, Hen.” He shot me an amused glance over his shoulder. “I kept to myself long before I was Alpha.”

  “Do you want me to go?” I stopped moving my towel.

  “No. Having you in my space calms me.” He reached up and touched my hand as it rested on his shoulder.

  “So why did Roland say he was challenging you?” I changed the subject, my hand moving down to the cuts on his lower back. I won’t lie; I was really tempted to reach down and squeeze his ass. I’d been dying to know what it felt like.

  “It doesn’t matter.” He said.

  Yeah, I wasn’t letting this slide.

  “He was willing to kill you to take your title, Roman. Of course it matters.”

  I stared him down, waiting for the story.

  “Roland said that since I brought you into the pack I’ve become a ticking time bomb. Decided he wasn’t willing to wait for me to lose it completely and challenged me.” He finally said.

  “You were challenged because of me?”

  “I was challenged because Roland is a coward who needed an excuse to fight me for more power.”

  His words didn’t stick. I stared out the windows, mind spinning with that revelation and others. My hand stilled on Roman’s back again, rag resting on one of the cuts.

  “Showering will be a more effective way to clean your injuries.”

  I removed the rag, tossing it to the table.

  “I’d better go.” I headed for the door. Roman crossed the room, blocking my exit.

  “Don’t run from me.” His eyes narrowed, daring me to keep going.

  “I’m not running.”

  Lie.

  “You left your tacos on the table.”

  Shit.

  “Fine, I was running.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Someone challenged you to a fight to the death because of me, Roman. Why wouldn’t I run?”

  “There’s always someone looking to gain power. Usually, they’re assholes. His reasons were bullshit he spewed just so he’d have an excuse. I’d like to think you’re not going to run because you care about me and want to spend time with me after I survived a challenge that could’ve ended with me dead.”

  His words struck me, hard.

  Caring about someone was dangerous enough, but caring about an Alpha? That was setting myself up for heartbreak sooner rather than later, and I’d sure as hell had enough of that shit. It’d be much safer not to care about anyone at all.

  “You’re right. I care about you, and you could end up dead any day because of your place in the pack. I’m not running, I’m leaving. Because I can’t do this.”

  I stepped around him, yanking the door open and stalking out toward the elevator.

  “Whoa, Hen.” Roman protested, following me down the hall. “Let’s talk about this.”

  My tired eyes met his briefly.

  “It’s better this way.”

  “Better for who?” He followed me into the elevator and I pointedly didn’t look at him.

  “Me.”

  The doors closed and took us down to my floor and he walked at my side out of the elevator.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, voice weary.

  “Sticking around until you’re ready to talk to me.” He sounded frustrated.

  “Good luck with that.” My eyes rolled as I grabbed my doorknob. “What are you going to do, sit outside my apartment?”

  “Yup.” Roman stopped in the hall and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Unless you’re going to let me inside.”

  I pulled the door open and Roman caught my arm gently turning me. His very-human tongue stroked over my nose quickly before he let me go.

  “I didn’t tell you to heal me.” I snapped.

  “Well I hate seeing you hurting.” He shot back.

  “Go home.” I went inside. As the door closed, he said,

  “You’re the only home I want anymore.”

  His voice was low and sexy and his words made me want to take back what I was saying and doing. But the longer I let myself care about Roman, the more it would hurt when life came back and bit me in the ass. And it always did.

  I stumbled and shut my eyes, leaning against the door. I was trying so hard not to care, but that was easier said than done.

  Much easier said than done.

  NINETEEN

  I didn’t sleep that night. Or the next. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ledger viciously attacking and murdering me or Roman or Arla or the female enforcers I’d befriended. The longer I went without sleep, the worse the nightmares got.

  “Hey Henley, did you—what are you doing?” Jamie stopped as the door closed behind her. She was the only person who’d tried to visit me since I told Roman I was done.

  I looked up from the plate I was scrubbing.

  “Dishes.” I mumbled. The rings under my eyes were bigger than my actual eyes.

  “Roman’s worried about you.”

  I scowled at the door she’d closed. True to his word, Roman was still camped out in front of my door three days after our conversation.

  Three.

  Freaking.

  Days.

  The man was as stubborn as I was. He could stay out there forever.

  I’d have talked to him so he would leave, but he was only waiting to convince me not to care about the pain that would accompany the loss of him. That conversation would be pointless. People around me always ended up dead.

  With Roman being an Alpha, even if by some miracle I wasn’t the reason he got killed he would still lose a challenge at some point, and then I’d lose him. So there was no point in talking. I wasn’t going to let him change my mind.

  “He can shove his worry up his ass.”

  “I’m worried too, Hennie.”

  It was the first time she’d used the nickname.

  I paused, scalding water running over my hands. Even as my skin burned under the water, I couldn’t muster the energy to care. Exhaustion was too heavy.

  “No one’s called me that since my mom died.” I said. “I like it.”

  With a nod, I went back to scrubbing my dishes.

  “Were those dishes even dirty?” Jamie folded her arms. I noticed a fabric bag in one of her hands, the kind people who really cared about the environment used at the grocery store. I wasn’t one of those overachievers, but I could definitely picture Jamie as one.

  “I’m not washing them because they’re dirty; I’m washing them because I can’t sleep and it’s something to do.” I shot her an exasperated look. “Did you come here to question my coping
methods?”

  “No.” She strolled on into my kitchen like I’d invited her in. Which I hadn’t. “I came to make you chamomile tea and watch a movie with you.” She put her bag on my sparkling countertop and pulled out a movie case. When she held up a copy of a movie that was still in the theaters and smiled, I rolled my eyes.

  “Rich girl connections.”

  “You bet.” She pulled out a hot pink tea kettle and what had to be a hundred-dollar box of fancy handmade tea bags.

  “I’m not drinking something that will make me tired.”

  “You have to sleep.”

  “I’ll sleep when Ledger gets out of my mind. Took a week of drowning myself in alcohol last time before I even felt partially sane.” I scrubbed harder.

  “What do you mean?” Jamie abandoned her expensive tea and came around to sit on a stool in front of my sink.

  “About the alcohol?”

  “About Ledger.”

  “He was my old Alpha. Not a great dude.”

  “I know. What’s he doing in your dreams when you can’t sleep?” she folded her arms and rested them on the counter.

  Now I had a reason to clean it again. Score.

  “Beating me. Raping me. Killing people I don’t hate. Ripping my heart out through my throat. Same old shit.” I didn’t meet her eyes.

  Why was I telling her this?

  “No wonder you can’t sleep.” Jamie remarked. “Can you stop cleaning already-clean dishes and watch the movie?” she changed the subject. I shot her a dark glare.

  “If I stop cleaning, I’ll fall asleep. So no.”

  “If you don’t go to sleep, Roman is going to barge in here in his wolf form. He thinks he can keep your nightmares away.” She studied me. I scowled at the door again. I’d been doing a lot of that.

  He wasn’t wrong.

  “Go home, Roman.” I shouted.

  He didn’t answer; he’d stopped responding to my yells on day one.

  “You should see the office he has set up out there. It’s kind of impressive.”

  “Don’t care.” I mumbled, putting every ounce of muscle I possessed into scrubbing the plate.

  “Why aren’t you drowning your nightmares in alcohol this time?” she changed the subject again.