Page 13 of Hunted

We’ve walked enough,he told his inner wolf sternly. The beast within him huffed its disagreement, but Dominic simply turned and headed back to the infirmary. He knew what he had to do about Abigail. Well, he knew some of what he had to do anyway.

Abigail was still unconscious or asleep—he couldn’t tell which—when Dominic returned to the infirmary.

The healer looked up as he walked in.

“I want her moved to my home. I’ll take care of her there,” he said and walked up to Abigail to look at her. His voice carried the quiet authority he had learned from the alphas before him.

Dominic was still looking down at Abigail when the healer replied, “Are you sure? We have a full staff here. We can take much better care of her, and your duties as alpha won’t be interfered with.”

The healer was bold to question his order, Dominic knew, but he had never been the type of alpha to discourage free speech. It was also, he had to admit, a very valid question for her to ask.

How am I going to take care of her while running this pack?

He nearly shrugged in response to his own question but stopped himself before the healer noticed.

“You can stop by to check on her twice a day. Make sure she’s healing and eating.” Luckily, Dominic found it easy to compromise. “But I want her in my home.”

He was feeling protective of her. Too protective of her. Of this beautiful, frail young shifter who had come into his territory, hurt and vulnerable. She stirred again then, and he watched her face change in her sleep. She was frowning, and Dominic had to fight the urge to reach down and smooth out her brow.

Control yourself.

He wasn’t sure whether he was speaking to himself or the wolf. The creature, in the presence of Abigail, seemed to drive his actions more than the man.

Dominic pulled himself away from Abigail and gave final orders to the healer. Then he headed to the home he would soon be sharing with the little wolf.

There, in his office, he began rifling through his maps of that part of the country.

As quickly as he could, he found where the Crimson Claw pack territory began.

It was time to do some research.

Chapter 7

Abigail

ThefirstthingAbigailwas painfully aware of as she woke, was that her mouth was dry. Her mouth was so dry that it hurt.

She forced her lips apart before she even opened her eyes, and the sensation of air slipping between her teeth was a torturous relief. Then she allowed her eyes to open and, when she didn’t recognize the ceiling, turned to her side.

She was in a large bed. It had to be king-sized at least, and the sheets were a pale gray. She inhaled then, and breathed in the twisted scents of leather, wood, spice, and musk.

Well, I’m definitely not in my own bed,she thought.

She tried to sit up but quickly realized that that was out of the question. Memories started taking shape as she lay back down. Memories of a healer. Memories of the presence of an alpha.

When she looked down at herself, the cast on her arm showed that she had not been hallucinating.

Suddenly, pain—sharp, breathtaking pain—spiked and spiraled up her arm. The pain had her in a chokehold almost immediately, and it kicked the breath out of her, pinning her to the mattress. Any hope that Abigail might have had to sit up was negated in that moment. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she lay there and stared up at the ceiling.

Where the hell am I? And when is this pain going to stop?

Abigail thought this, and the words repeated over and over in her head.

Where was she? Whose bed was she in? And when would the pain stop?

Waves of panic and anxiety crashed into her as she remembered the two older people who had found her in her car.

Yes, that’s right,she thought hazily.I was in too much pain to drive. I pulled over to the side of the road.

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