Page 21 of Wild Fated

His brow furrowed. "I cleaned you up."

I bristled and looked down, finally taking stock of my state of undress. My heart skipped. I was in my underwear, and that was not the underwear I’d put on that morning. It was clean.

My mind whirled. Had he seen everything? Yes, he was saving my life, but still. My cheeks flamed, and I crossed my arms over my middle, even though I was covered by his damn shirt. "You could've waited until I woke up."

Destin scoffed. "Wait for you to freeze? Sure, that sounds like a great plan."

I glared at him. He leaned back, his expression unreadable. "I did what needed to be done. You were hurt, and I helped you. That's it."

I swallowed my pride. He was right. He’d taken care of me when I couldn’t, and here I was snapping at him. “I’m sorry. Thank you.”

Destin stared at the fire, and I found myself staring at the way the flickering light danced over his skin. He had a new shirt on. New pants. I pursed my lips at the brief flashes of him hovering over me after he’d shifted back.

I'd grown up with too many stories of men trying to take advantage of women in their vulnerable states. My mother had drilled it into me—never let your guard down. I remembered the first time I’d gone to a bar with a couple of friends from high school. I'd been wearing a tank top and shorts, nothing scandalous, but enough to get attention. A man from town had made a move, tried to pull me onto his lap. I'd put him in the hospital.

“I don’t like not knowing what happened,” I whispered.

Destin turned his head. “If you think I’d do anything to hurt another wolf, you haven’t been paying attention.” He stood and walked back to his pack, then laid out his bed roll next to the fire. Far from the pool of my blood, still sticky on the floor. He laid out mine next to it, then took my blanket from the corner and tossed it over. He stood and rolled out his neck.

I scanned the room, noting that the only thing left of the shrikes were a few black feathers. There were already branches held in place over the broken window. “They wanted the dagger. I’m sure of it.” That was the only thing that made sense. There was no reason for us to be a target.

Except for my blood.

Except for the relic.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Will we be safe here?”

Destin grunted as he lay down on his mat. He didn’t have the answer. I shouldn’t have even asked.

I woke with a start,blinking. The fire had burned down to glowing embers, casting faint shadows on the tent walls. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was or why I was there.Then the memory of the night shrikes and the searing pain in my abdomen crashed over me.

I reached down and pulled up Destin’s shirt to inspect the wound, expecting to find a gaping, bloody mess. Instead, I found smooth, unbroken skin. My breath caught in my throat. I'd felt the talons, the warmth of my blood spilling out of me.

I should've died.

It wasn't a dramatic statement. It was fact. Even with my shifter abilities, there was no way I should've healed that fast. I traced my fingers over where the wound had been, feeling the faint ridge of newly formed skin. It was still tender, and I winced as I pressed down.

There was a rustling outside, then the door to the hostel opened. Destin ducked inside, carrying something in his hands. He crouched next to me, and I caught a whiff of something earthy and herbal.

"Eat." He handed me a plate with some kind of meat and a bowl of steaming liquid that looked like pine needles had been boiled in water and then strained through someone's dirty socks.

I stared at it, then back at him. "What is this?"

"Food." He sat across from me, his eyes dark in the low light. The morning air clung to him.

I raised an eyebrow. "I can see that, but what's in it?"

Destin shrugged. "Meat and broth. It's good for you."

I hesitated, then took a tentative sip of the broth. It was surprisingly warm and soothing as it slid down my throat, spreading a gentle heat through my chest. The taste was strange, not unpleasant, but definitely something I wasn't used to. I took another sip, then a third, and before I knew it, the bowl was empty.

Destin watched, then reached out and took the bowl from my hands. He handed me the plate of meat. I tore into it, my hunger suddenly overwhelming.

Halfway through my meal, I got up and walked to my pack. I set the plate down and pulled out my phone. It was holding a charge, and I actually had a couple of bars of service. I tapped out a text to our group.

Hey. We’re on our way to the site. Just wanted to let you know I'm not dead.

Callista:

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