Sam nodded, tightening the bobble that held her bun in place. “I’ll try and reschedule it. I wish I could say Roarke will relax a little when the pup is born but he might get worse.”
I hummed in agreement, feeling sorry for my friend. Cat was feeling smothered and Roarke was practically attached to her of late, keeping her close to his side at all times. He’d been more aggressive towards the males of the pack too so they kept their distance from their Alpha Female but the females of the pack, especially the mothers, had crowded around her. I wasn’t used to being around so many Wulvers at once, it meant I had been keeping my distance from her too. I didn’t like the looks and whispers a few of the females gave me when I was with them. Perhaps they thought me unworthy of being so close to Cathwulf, I was just a lowly omega, after all.
A sigh from Sam had my head lifting.
“Do try to keep the place clean, Oria,” she teased, picking up a sprig of lavender. “Though I do know you healers don’t keep to the standards of doctors.”
“I’m not a healer,” I protested, grabbing a broom to start sweeping up the mess on the floor.
I wished everyone would stop saying it. I wasn’t worthy or capable of being the pack healer. Their teasing was like a punch to the gut each time, reminding me of my status. The wooden broom creaked under my tight grip.
“Not a healer yet.” She clucked and winked before spinning around, her white coat flapping out behind her.
I shook my head in amusement and finished cleaning before going back to mashing up herbs with the new pestle and mortar Sam had gotten me. Singing quietly to myself, always only to myself, I followed the instruction in one of the books that explained how to make a paste that would act almost like a plaster for open wounds. The smell was ghastly, sticking to the back of my throat, but I pushed on. I experimented with it for a little while to see if I could fix the smell without taking away its healing properties, crushing up some lavender to sprinkle in it. Nodding in satisfaction, I smeared a little on my hand to try and decide if it was as described in the book. There were no cameras in the time it was written, so I had little to go by. The next injured wolf that came in might have to submit to me testing it on them.
Hours slipped by without notice as I lost myself to greedily taking in all the information I could, my fingers aching from grinding leaves and herbs.
I felt his eyes on me before I sensed his presence. Turning slowly, I frowned. He wasn’t in the room, but I was never wrong when it came to him. Peering out the small window, a shadow of black moved against the brown of the treeline before disappearing. I stood frozen for a few moments, trying to figure out if I had actually seen him or if I was now so obsessed, I had started imagining him near. Nothing else moved outside and I put what I’d seen down to being Sam’s cat coming back from her daily explorations. Shaking my head, I went back to work.
“You were upset earlier, why?”
The pestle flew from my hand, cracking against the hard floor. My eyes flew up, crystal blue meeting black and my lightened mood from working with herbs faded back into me, taken over by the roughness of his presence. I couldn’t form any words and instead dropped to my knees to pick up the pestle. Quillan growled low, the sound vibrating through me. I knew how a feral wolf like him would have seen what I’d done; I’d willingly lowered myself before him, a sign of submission. Keeping my head low, I stood and forced all my focus onto grinding herbs again so I wouldn’t look at him and lose myself.
Quillan stepped through the door and the wooden floor groaned under his weight. My eyes were drawn to him like a magnet, taking in his muscled form and the way he stood with such confidence. Dark eyes considered me and his voice was husky as he asked again, “What upset you?”
“I was just remembering something,” I managed to choke out, struggling not to give in to the part of me that wished to be closer to him, my wolf drinking in the feel of his power while I trembled.
“Something that saddened you?” he pressed.
I wanted to roll my eyes. Of course, Mr. Obvious. You.
“Yes.”
He watched me and I knew he was waiting for me to explain further but I didn’t think I could lie to him; he would see through any story I wove about my father. Yet perhaps there was enough truth to that story to fool him as it had Cathwulf. I had thought about my father today, and it had made me sad, but was that a part of my life I wanted to share with the male who would be able to break me so easily?
“You don’t want to talk and that’s okay, but our pack takes care of their own. You’re an important part of Cathwulf’s life and therefore you’re an important part of mine. I will do anything to make sure you feel safe here,” he vowed, stepping into my space and making me suck in a sharp breath.
Automatically, I stumbled back. I’d never been this close to him alone. I could smell his scent again, stronger now, not just embers anymore but a roaring fire. He was so intoxicatingly close that I could feel the heat of his body beating against mine. Could he feel how I cowered before him? Even as fear flared within me, my body urging me to bow to appease him, I still managed to find my voice.
“I’m only important to you because of Cathwulf? I see how important she is to you even though she’s mated to your brother, your Alpha,” I rebuked, my gaze meeting his for the barest of seconds, long enough to see the pain my words had caused in his eyes.
I could almost hear the whine of his wolf’s agony. Quillan stepped back, taking the heat of him away too. My reaction was to curl in on myself and prepare for the blow that would have come had I spoken to my father so. He lifted his hand and I flinched, my eyes squeezing shut. When the blow never came, I opened my eyes in time to see he had simply been brushing hair from his eyes. He frowned as he watched me.
“Did you think I was going to hurt you, Oria?” he asked, aghast. “Is that what you think of me?”
I shook my head quickly, taking another instinctual step away. “Some behaviours are so deeply ingrained in a person that it doesn’t matter what kindness someone has shown, their instincts will always react to what their past has taught them.”
We stood in awkward silence for a moment and I hated the sympathy in his expression. I needed distraction, not liking the turn this conversation had taken. I’d revealed far too much to him without needing to say much at all. Quillan’s anger filled the room, but this time I tried not to react. I was sure it wasn’t me he was angry at. Perhaps he was angry that I thought him capable of hitting me, or that someone had obviously done so in my past, but I’d said all I could offer in relation to my history. Refusing to look at him again, I focussed back on my poultices.
“I seem to have offended you, I’m sorry. I’ll leave you to your work,” he apologised roughly.
I didn’t say anything, mostly because my throat had closed off. He hovered for a moment and I heard the unmistakable sound of him inhaling deeply before he left. I swore I could still feel the burn of his gaze on my skin and moved to the old wooden styled sink to get myself a glass of cold water. Without him taking up so much room, I felt like I could breathe again and I sipped my water gratefully. I couldn’t help but replay our conversation, dissecting every word and movement he’d made. Why had he come here?
A black wolf darted past the window, its sad dark eyes meeting mine before it disappeared into the trees. My wolf urged me to follow him, to play a game of chase in an attempt to draw his eye but I pushed the feeling away. It was pointless.
Fur brushed against my leg and I almost jumped out of my skin. Sam’s black and ginger cat, Mirren, purred loudly as she rubbed against me. I laughed, crouching down to scratch behind her fluffy ears and over the ginger lightning bolt on her forehead.
“What are you after, hmm?” I cooed, giggling as she cuddled in under my chin. “Is it food or catnip? Or do you just want cuddles because you know I’m upset?”
Her paws kneading my top answered that question and I kept her warm body against me as I rinsed out my glass and put it away. As i
f she knew I had work to finish, she gracefully jumped from my arms and onto the counter, sitting and curling her tail around her legs. Grabbing a little catnip, I sprinkled it next to her and watched in amusement as she rolled around in it with loud purrs. This was the distraction I needed after my encounter with the big bad wolf.
Hands on hips, I decided to clean up the rest of the room. I picked up the broom again and brushed the rest of the stems and leaves into a pile before crouching down to sort what I could keep and what could go in the bin. The work kept me occupied and I had to admit that I truly did love it.
“A healer,” I mused quietly to myself before laughing the idea off.
Chapter 2
Memories
“It’s your fault she’s dead.”
I stayed quiet. It was always best to stay quiet when he was in these moods. Staying still, trying not to incur his wrath, I kept myself as small as possible. He threw the door closed, the slamming sound making me jump and grip the blanket on my lap tighter. I swallowed down my fear, keeping my eyes closed, as if not seeing him would make him go away.
“She was my world. You stole my life from me.”
All things I’d heard before, all things I knew to be true. He never let me forget it. He’d sought me out tonight, hiding in my room hadn’t worked as it often did. That only meant he was looking for something to take his grief and anger out on. That meant it would be bad.
“Do you hear me? Are you listening?” he snapped, stepping violently into my space and gripping my hair to force me to look up at him.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut while my body trembled, a small whine slipping past my lips. He shoved me away and I scrambled further onto my bed. He’d wanted a reaction but I gave him nothing. It was always best to give him nothing.
My shoulders hunched, my body curling to make myself as insignificant as possible. Hopefully he would just leave. The smell of alcohol on his breath as he got closer made me gag, my body convulsing. It was all the reaction he needed to make him snap.
The back of his hand met my cheek, throwing my whole body onto the bed as my vision went black. My cheek throbbed with the hit that was sure to have another swollen bruise appear by morning. My fingers grazed over my aching jaw, tears stinging my eyes and threatening to fall. He hated when I cried, it spurred on his fury and I bit my lip to try and keep the cries in.
“Do I disgust you?” he hissed. “How dare you! Despite the curse you brought on this family, I care for you. Do I not feed and keep you clothed with a roof over your head?”
“Yes, Father,” I whispered hoarsely, not moving from the way I’d sprawled out on the bed from the blow he’d given me.
It hurt to talk, my jaw throbbed and my throat was raw from crying earlier in the day. He walked away a little and I dared to peek up at him, trying to gauge if there was a way to calm him down.
“It should have been you. We should have lost you, not her.”
I nodded my agreement. I wished it had been me too. He spun around with glowing eyes, his skin seeming to shift and move as his wolf fought to be freed. Suddenly the blows were coming faster than I could react. He dragged me to the floor, his booted foot hitting my stomach. I gagged again, releasing the contents of my stomach onto the floor. He kicked the same spot once more, a loud crack as my rib snapped echoing through the room and I finally screamed…
Nobody ever heard.
Nobody ever came.
My scream filled the bedroom, my body jerking up from the tangle of the sheets. My cheeks were wet with hot and still falling tears, my body reeling from the nightmare of dredged up memories. My hand rubbed over my rib as if making sure it had truly just been a dream. He’d broken it that night, I’d lay unable to move on the floor as it healed for over a week. None of the pack had noticed that I hadn’t left the house and my father had made his excuses as to my absence.
Sobs tore from my lips, even as I tried to muffle the sound behind my hand, teeth biting into soft skin. Pain flared, partially shifted fangs sinking in and drawing blood but the pain brought my senses back to me.
A knock at the door had me holding my breath and for a moment I was lost in the past once more, expecting my father to come barging in. Don’t make a sound.
“Oria?”
A sharp exhale from me.
Quillan’s voice only had the panic gripping my heart spike. I didn’t have to worry about silencing my cries now, I was barely able to suck in enough air to breathe. I could see his shadow in the small gap beneath the door but I dared not let him know I was awake. I didn’t want him close to me when I was like this, I didn’t want him to see that I was weak. Waiting until I heard him sigh then his footsteps move away, I curled back under the blanket, tugging it over my head. It wasn’t until I heard the soft click of his bedroom door downstairs that I was sure he wouldn’t come back and hadn’t gone to fetch Cathwulf. Had my scream woken him up?
The duvet was drenched and I shivered, becoming aware of the sheen of cold sweat on my skin. I hugged a pillow to my chest, focussing on simply breathing in and out. I wouldn’t go back to sleep, residual fear keeping me from being able to relax enough. One nightmare normally led to another and I couldn’t risk that. Another sob rocked my body and my eyes were so swollen that every time I blinked it felt like the scratch of sandpaper from crying so hard. The instincts of my fur demanded I shift to protect myself even though there was no real danger. I couldn’t keep myself safe from my own mind. But the wolf wanted out, and I decided to give in. Running off all this nervous energy would hopefully calm me down and I wouldn’t appear as a jittering mess when the rest of the house woke up.
I shoved the damp blankets from me and got up carefully. My legs trembled beneath me and I stood still for a moment to get my bearings, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. For a moment, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to move. It was as if I were glued to the spot and only steadying myself on the bedside table kept me from buckling. After a few more seconds, I felt a little better, drawing on the strength of my fur to help me on.
Padding barefoot from the room and down the stairs, I avoided where I knew a floorboard creaked. If there was one thing I was good at, it was keeping as quiet as a shadow. I traipsed through the halls like a pale ghost, only pausing when I heard movement coming from Quillan’s room. He was either still awake or having as restless a sleep as I had been. I continued past his hallway more carefully.
The sky was a dark blue through the windows, lighter on the horizon with the palest of yellows seen through the gap in the trees. It must have been later than I thought. The sun would begin to rise soon but nobody would notice if I was missing from breakfast. Hopefully Quillan wouldn’t mention to anyone what he’d heard if he thought something of my absence. For some reason, I was sure he wouldn’t. He would keep my secret for me.
The door made little sound as I opened it and stepped outside. Looking around to make sure I was definitely alone, I dropped the damp nightgown from my body. The air was icy cold now that winter had arrived, there was frost on the grass and small puddles had frozen over. I found myself shivering, goose bumps appearing over pale skin. The cold wouldn’t matter soon. My body trembled as I gave in to my wolf, my body hitting the ground in a blur of white fur. I shook myself out and resisted the urge to lift my head in wolf-song before letting instincts take over and darting towards the trees.
The flurry of sounds assaulted my senses, distracting me from the dark thoughts of my memories. It was easy to forget when I gave my fur control. In this form, my thoughts were mostly instinctual, black and white. I followed the now familiar paths through the silver birches and huge oak trees, running through rough brush, following random scents for miles until I was thoroughly worn out. I was deep in the heart of pack territory now, nothing could hurt me here.
I collapsed to the frosty ground, my tongue hanging out as I panted heavily. Snow began to fall, small white flakes that melted quickly as they hit the ground. It wasn’t quite cold enough for it to st
ick yet and my thick fur made sure I didn’t feel the frosty wind. As I watched the snow fall, thoughts started to turn in my head again and I quickly got back to my feet, determined to wear myself out until I passed out from exhaustion. I wouldn’t allow myself the chance to dwell on my nightmares.
The musty scent of deer caught my attention and I licked my jaws before I even realised I was hunting. My paws stepped silently, managing to dodge the crunch of fallen leaves and branches. The trail led me a little closer to the edge of the border, enough to make me a little nervous but I didn’t have time to worry about that. Just over the crest of a small hill, my prey awaited.
A mother and fawn were grazing peacefully and there was no sign of the rest of the herd. Fur brushed against the undergrowth and the mother lifted her head, big doe eyes searching her surroundings, ears twitching around. I froze, lowering myself further. These creatures had hearing that was also as good as my own.
I was a patient hunter. I had no qualms about waiting stock still until the deer believed there was no danger again. If it took me hours, I would wait. I just had to hope the wind continued to blow in my favour, keeping my scent away from them both. The fawn bravely trailed a little further from its mother’s side and closer to where I hid. It was completely unaware of how close to danger it was, not bothering to check its surroundings as it trusted its mother to keep it safe.
I took a slow step then stopped again to make sure I was in position. My shoulders rolled and in a split second, I sprang forward. The fawn had no time to react before I was on it, fangs clamping around its neck, my weight bringing it down. Long legs kicked out with dangerous hooves that caught my side but I ignored the pain, clamping my jaws down harder. The doe bleated but knew there would be no helping her fawn and ran, leaving me to devour my meal. The fawn stopped kicking out as warm, copper blood filled my mouth until it lay limp beneath me. Still I kept my weight above it, not releasing its throat until the pounding of its heart stuttered and stopped. Pride filled me and I took a step back to admire my kill.
Way Of The Wolf: Endeavour (The Wulvers Series Book 3) Page 2
