The bear pushes its head through the window. I press up against the trunk and wedge myself between two humps of metal. The car rocks back and forth under the weight of the shifter’s frantic attempts to reach me, but the frame holds.
The beast roars in frustration, dripping puddles of saliva everywhere. I cover my ears with my hands and squeeze my eyes shut as I ride out the attack.
Suddenly, it’s over. The bear disappears, leaving behind an eerie silence.
Or so it seems.
I count to ten before I move. Even then, I slide forward only enough to lift my head and peek through the window.
I am greeted by a pair of wolf eyes staring at me. A scream involuntarily flies out of my mouth before I clamp it off with my hand. My eyes narrow on the bronze-colored wolf as it sits on its haunches next to the door.
He has black-tipped ears.
“Ryse?” I whisper.
He licks his chops—not exactly a sign of encouragement.
I look around the tent to confirm that the bear is gone. “Is it safe to come out?”
The wolf blows out a puff of air. It could be a sneeze. I’ll never know. Real or shifter, he can’t answer me.
But I’m about ninety-nine percent sure this wolf is Ryse.
When he walks away, I interpret his placid demeanor as a sign that the coast is clear. I climb out of the car, but I don’t go far. My fingers clutch the frame as I put my feet on the ground. My eyes are wide and alert as I scan the tent for movement.
The wolf I hope is Ryse pauses at the entrance when another wolf enters. My knees knock together as he trots over to me. This one has white-tipped ears, which means he is Ryder.
“I’m okay.” I show him my hands, and he immediately sniffs them. I resist the urge to pet him, no matter how much his soft fur tempts me.
He fusses over me for a moment before joining his brother at the exit. They wait there, and I assume they intend for me to follow them outside. I have no intention of hanging out in this tent any longer than necessary, but there is one stop I need to make first.
Near what remains of the crumbled shack, I find the little dog. He’s hurt, but alive. His head lifts off the ground as I approach him, and he whimpers. I scoop him up, carefully avoiding his injuries. With the dog in my arms, I finally follow the wolves outside.
I squint against the bright sun and breathe in the fresh air. The sense of dread looming on the horizon is gone, replaced by the familiar sounds and smells of summer at the campground.
The wolves don’t linger. They run into the forest, disappearing from sight before they are spotted. I scan the tree line for Luca, but I don’t see him, or the silver wolf.
Alone, I start down the hill toward the office, where a dozen campers loiter near the door. While some look downright terrified, most appear confused. Fortunately, it seems that no one has been injured, though the sound of sirens echoing through the valley indicates help is coming for anyone who needs it.
Luca isn’t there either.
I find Danny pacing back and forth in front of the door, with a phone to his ear. He shrugs and rolls his eyes when he sees me, and I know he has no idea I just went head-to-head with a bear. I decide it’s in his best interest to keep it that way.
“Can I help with anything?” I whisper, trying not to interrupt his phone call.
Danny shakes his head. Pointing to the phone, he mouths, “Hilderness.” From the look of it, he’s getting an earful from the owner. Before I walk away, he adds, “Go home.”
“You sure?” While I want nothing more than to leave so I can fully absorb what just happened, I won’t leave Danny if he needs help.
He answers with two enthusiastic thumbs up.
With the injured dog still in my arms, I shamble toward my car. I pull up short when Luca emerges from the thin patch of trees that borders the parking lot. He’s still pulling a shirt over his head, and his pants are unbuttoned.
I grimace. “I’m afraid to ask . . .”
He shoots me an annoyed scowl as he snaps his pants. With a brusque nod at my car, he orders, “Get in.”
I want to point out that I was already planning to do that, and that he doesn’t have to boss me around. Something in the tone of his voice, and the look in his eyes, encourages me to keep my mouth shut.
For the first time since I got this car, I claim the passenger seat. Considering the tremors that have taken control of my body, I don’t think it’s a good idea that I drive. Besides, someone needs to hold the dog. Cradling him in my lap, I extend the keys out to Luca. He stares at me for a second before he takes them, gets behind the wheel of my car, and starts the engine.
“Stupid . . .” He mutters under his breath. “I should have known better.”
I study his profile as he pulls out of the parking lot. He looks pissed. “Did anyone get hurt?”
“No.”
“The bear got away?”
“They got away,” he snarls.
“There were two of them?”
He glances at me. “Where did you think I was?”
“I didn’t . . .” I shrug. “I had no idea.”
“That was too close.” He glares out the windshield. “You could have . . .”
“I’m okay,” I try to reassure him, but I’m not sure he hears me.
He is seeing red and taking it out on my poor car.
“What was I thinking?” He slams an open palm against the steering wheel.
“Luca . . .
“You never should have been left vulnerable like that,” he grits. “That’s on me. I . . .”
“Luca, it’s okay. No one got hurt. I didn’t get hurt.”
“You wouldn’t have been hurt, Sav. You would have been killed.”
I watch as his left hand tightens around the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. His other hand grips the gear shift nearly as tightly.
I don’t hesitate to lay my hand over his and force my fingers between his. “I’m still here.”
He glances at our conjoined hands, then me. Each breath he takes releases a little more anger until there is nothing left. Only fear. “It was too close.”
I nod, understanding that nothing I say will change the way he feels.
“I’m not going to let it happen again,” he vows.
“Okay.”
The dog whimpers. Luca’s gaze snaps to where the little guy lies in my lap. I watch the parade of reactions on his face as he registers the presence of the dog for the first time.
“What in the hell is that?” he finally asks.
I pat his fur gently. “I don’t know, but he helped me.”
“Helped you?” Luca asks skeptically.
“Yeah. He did.” I peer down at the disheveled dog affectionately. “It’s only fair that I return the favor.”
Chapter 24
Luca refuses to drive me home. Nor will he take a small detour that takes us past the veterinary hospital, no matter how much I beg him. All the reasoning in the world isn’t going to work on him—not now. He is convinced Silver Lake is the only place I will be safe, so that is where we are going and where we will stay.
Since Luca refuses to give me my car keys, I demand that the dog be brought into the house and treated for his injuries. He agrees to that, eventually.
Luca’s attitude does a one-eighty as we tend to the dog’s wounds, and I regale him with the tale of how the shaggy little hero saved my life. By the time we bandage him up and create a cozy little bed for him on the living room floor, Luca is accepting doggy kisses.
Lucky mutt.
Luca and I sit on the carpeted floor, our backs against the couch, with the dog between us. He may have saved my life, but it’s clear that Luca is his favorite.
And I’m starting to wonder if Luca favors the dog over me.
Watching the two of them, I’m reminded of the wolf kisses I received after the first bear attack. I never did find out if Luca knows what I said that night.
“So what happened ear
lier?” I ask—anything to stop thinking about kisses and secrets.
“They almost got to you.” Luca rubs the dog’s chin with a scoff. “What else is there to tell?”
“You said there were two of them,” I prompt.
“Yeah. One distracted us.” Luca sighs. “Once I realized what it was doing, I sent Ryse and Ryder to look for you. I had a feeling . . .”
“You mean, your wolf had a feeling?”
He glances at me. “What?”
“You told me before, you’re not entirely present when your wolf is let loose,” I remind him.
So there’s a chance I’m not ready to stop thinking about those wolf kisses.
“Right.” Luca squints at me peculiarly. “But I do maintain some of my senses and instincts.”
“Uh-huh.” I nibble on my lip.
“What are you trying to ask me, Sav?”
“Nothing,” I answer quickly. “I was just curious about what happened today.”
He nods, but he doesn’t look convinced.
“Did you fight the bear?” I wonder.
“Yeah,” he answers distractedly, his attention back on the dog.
I give him a once-over. A small crimson stain on his shirt gives me pause. “Did you get hurt?”
Luca’s mouth opens. Then snaps shut. He glances at me before quickly looking away.
“Luca?” I climb onto my knees and turn toward him. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” he answers.
“Prove it.” I tug at his shirt. He whips around to wrestle it out of my hands but pulls up short with a grimace. The hiss that passes his lips is all the proof I need. “You are hurt. Let me see.”
“It’s nothing,” he insists.
“Then show me,” I counter.
He holds my gaze for a moment, contemplating. Finally, he pulls his shirt up on one side to show me his ribs. Extending the length of his torso, all the way to his hip, is a large purple bruise. The flesh surrounding it is scratched. One particularly deep cut is still bleeding.
“Luca!”
“It will heal,” he mutters.
“But . . .”
“I’m fine,” he repeats.
He pulls his shirt down, covering his injuries, but I still see them. I stare at his side, the image still very vivid in my mind, as tears spring up in my eyes.
“Sav . . .”
“You can’t keep doing this,” I whisper so as not to completely crack. “I won’t let you.”
“This is going to end,” he vows. “I will find who is responsible for this.”
My eyes squeeze shut when I realize what that means. Again, he will put himself in harm’s way. Again, he will risk death. And he will do it for me.
There is no point in trying to talk him it out of it, of course. He is just as stubborn as I am. I can only hope that this doesn’t go on for much longer, and that Luca doesn’t get killed before it’s all over.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “You need to rest.”
“I will—”
“No,” I cut him off. “Now. Rest. I’ll sit here with the dog. You go rest so you can heal faster.”
Luca glances out the window, at the darkening sky, with a hint of unease.
“You said we would be safe here,” I remind him.
“We are.”
“Are Ryse and Ryder nearby?”
Luca nods.
“Then you can rest.” I nod at the couch. “Lie here if you want.”
Luca stares at me for a moment. “You’re not going to go anywhere, are you?”
“Will Ryse and Ryder even let me?”
Luca smirks. “No.”
“Then I guess I’m staying here.”
Not that I intended to leave anyway. Not now. It would take a force of nature to make me leave Luca tonight.
I will gladly accept the punishment I know will be coming tomorrow from Dad.
I wake to the stench of dog breath in my nose and a sticky wetness on my forehead.
As I blink away the remnants of sleep, Luca’s deep, commanding voice grumbles in my ear. “No.”
The tone used to say that one word makes me tremble, and I’m not even his target. The dog is. I feel a little bad for him as I watch him spin in circles, fighting the impulse to lick me again. He finally curls up on his makeshift bed with a whimper.
“Looks like he’s going to be okay,” I conclude.
“Now to figure out what to do with him.” Luca’s sleepy voice is almost directly in my ear, and when he speaks, I feel the rumble in his chest.
It takes me an embarrassingly long time to realize why. Once I do, I want to curl up into a ball beside the dog and never face the world—especially Luca—again.
I don’t remember falling asleep, and I really wish I did, because I would love to have an explanation for how we wound up in this position.
I am wedged into the narrow space between Luca’s fully-prone frame and the back of the couch, which means I am practically lying on top of him. One cheek is pressed into his bare chest, and half of my body is covering his. One of my arms is slung over his waist and my fingers graze the plush carpet.
I try to roll off of him, but I don’t have enough room. I try to push up, but the arm tucked beneath me is numb and useless. I’m stuck.
Luca chuckles.
“It’s not funny.” I try again, this time using my legs to gain some leverage. “When did I fall asleep? How did I end up like this? And where, in god’s name, is your shirt?”
He glances down as if this is the first he has realized his shirt is missing. He peeks up at me with a shrug. “I get hot when I sleep. Especially when a girl covers me like a blanket.”
I groan and push harder. My limp arm finally slips free, but because I can’t put any weight on it yet, I only manage to roll farther on top of Luca. I squirm and flop around without getting anywhere.
“Yeah, Sav. That’s really helping,” Luca groans. Beneath the sarcasm is something else—a strained gruffness in his voice that sends a flash of heat to course through me. It settles in the least expected of places, and suddenly I understand why his voice sounds like that.
My eyes drop to where my hip is pressed against his. And then I feel it.
“Oh, God.” I frantically push away from him, but I get nowhere. “Stop it.”
He pins me with a dark look. “Quit rubbing all over me.”
“Move.”
“I’m happy where I’m at.” He grins. “You’re the one who has a problem with it.”
I finally manage to slide a leg beneath me and gain some leverage. With just enough feeling back in my numb arm, I hoist myself up. I push off with the leg at the same time, intending to vault over the worthless and chuckling lump of muscle laying between me and a clear mind.
My arm gives out at the worst possible time. My foot slips between the cushions, lodging itself into the deep recesses of the couch, and I crash on top of Luca—all the way this time.
He hisses, but I don’t think it’s because I hurt him.
I look down to note the body parts almost perfectly aligned now. My head snaps up, and my gaze collides with his. Neither of us speaks.
The dog barks. Luca severs his gaze long enough to growl—a low rumble from his throat—at the pesky mutt, who immediately lies down with a whimper.
“What was that?” I ask.
Luca directs his attention to me. There is a hardness in his eyes I don’t expect, and it causes my breath to catch. “I’m an alpha. I ooze power.”
I think I feel it. No, I know I feel it. On one hand, I like it. On the other hand, I’m terrified. Of him. Of what he is capable of making me feel. Of what I may do when under his spell.
“Turn it off,” I plead.
“I can’t. Especially now.” His hips flex marginally—just enough for me to get the message.
I recall our brief conversation about wolf pheromones—which are undoubtedly soaring in both of us right now. Much like I struggled to control my wolf’s imp
ulses then, Luca is struggling now.
“You need to help me,” I plead. His brows raise in a silent question, prompting me to explain. “My foot is stuck in the couch. I can’t . . . move.”
Some of the alpha-brusque intensity in his eyes fades as humor takes over. “You want me to free you so you can move?”
“Please?”
Luca gazes up at me in contemplation for so long I expect him to say no and remind me that he’s perfectly happy with this arrangement, as uncomfortable as it must be for him.
I jump when his hands unexpectedly skim the curve of my back. He grins as he trails his fingers over my hips and down the back of my legs. His gaze holds mine the entire time, and it is quite possibly the most erotic thing that has ever happened to me.
I feel warm all over, and breathing suddenly takes a lot more effort. I resist the urge to rub against him because I’m pretty sure that is my inner wolf trying to call the shots.
Or maybe this is the first time we are on the same page about something.
Luca’s hands finally stop, and he hooks my knees. With a hard jerk, he pulls me into a seated position. It’s more comfortable, but there is still one problem—and kind of a big one.
I shift as much weight as I can to the foot that is planted on the floor, to avoid sitting directly on the “problem.” Luca finds my efforts hilarious.
He is still laughing when he scoots out from beneath me, a nearly unbearable feat thanks to the body parts that glide together in the process. Once he is cleared enough to sit, he does.
His eyes are on my face when he leans forward. One hand follows my leg into the couch to grab my foot. Then with one hard tug, he yanks it free.
Suddenly, I am in no hurry to move. I am still straddling his legs when both of his hands come down on my hips. In one smooth move, he guides both of us back to where we were a moment ago—bodies aligned perfectly. The only difference is that I am now able to move at will.
I don’t go anywhere. I gaze down at him with a mixture of surprise and intrigue.
“You’re free,” he tells me unnecessarily.
I nod. Still, I don’t move.
Shifter Crown: Valley of Truth and Denial (The Shifter Crown Series Book 1) Page 21
