Page 3 of Fated to the Feral Wolf

He was right this time. Because seconds later, I collapsed.

THREE

Shay

“Dirge? Is that your name?” I asked, trying to distract him with something, anything. Even something as mundane as his name. I didn’t want to keep thinking of him as feral, even if it was technically true. Feral meant I was doomed, though. If he couldn’t reason, if he couldn’t let Reed and John Henry help me…

No, I couldn’t think about that. About losing my wolf forever.

She whined, the sound high and mournful inside my skull.

Dirge stared intently at me, as if trying to communicate something, though all I saw was the red of his eyes flicker, a glowing hazel flashing at me before cementing back as red.

Was the man still fighting for control? I smiled at the thought, even as something wet touched my cheek. He suddenly howled, staggering to the side.

I heard Reed shout something, but it was distant, like he was down a long, cold tunnel.

Cold, yes. My eyelids were so heavy. I fought to keep them open as the lights danced over my head. And then Dirge was gone, replaced by the worried pack healer, John Henry.

“Shay? Stay with me. I’ve brought the antidote and a pain drug. Shay?”

Why was he shaking me? Didn’t he know my stomach hurt?

A grip like a steel band held my arm, then a sharp pinch at the crook of my arm preceded blissful darkness.

Beep…Beep… Beep…

What was that Goddess-cursed noise? I tried to scrub my eyes, but my arm wassoheavy, it barely budged off the mattress.

Wait.

I wasn’t on a mattress before.

The memories came rushing back, and my eyelids flew open.

“Dirge?” His name came out a hoarse whisper, and I cleared my desert-dry throat and tried again. “Dirge!”

“Shh, it’s okay. Hold on, let me get you some water,” Leigh said, her relief evident when she appeared over me, the blonde curtain of her hair filtering the overhead lights for a moment before she disappeared again.

She popped back into my line of sight with a Styrofoam cup complete with bendy straw. “Take it slow, okay? You’ve been out… two days? Maybe three. I’m not sure. Time’s a bit squashed together at the moment.” She shook her head, then carefully lowered the straw to my lips.

I drank the water down greedily, trying to process what she’d just told me. Two or three days? That wasn’t good. As soon as I released the straw and took a steadying breath, I asked again. “Where’s Dirge? Is he okay?”

“Uh, yeah. About that. The feral wolf—uh, Dirge—had to be sedated to treat you. The last I heard, they were taking himto a feral cell.” She winced at the admission, watching for my reaction.

“A feral cell! Leigh! You have to get me up. I have to see him.” I shoved at the heavy pile of blankets weighing me down, letting out a frustrated grunt when my shaking hands barely moved them. I tried again, and again, until Leigh swooped down and captured my hands in hers.

“Shay, you can’t get out of bed yet.” Her stern tone just pissed me off. She didn’t understand. I knew in my bones that a cell would make him worse. To go from living wild to locked up, barely able to move, would be awful for any wolf. But a feral one who’d just found his fated mate? He’d be breaking himself trying to get free.

I knew, because it was exactly what I’d be doing. Snatching my hands away from Leigh, I went back to dislodging the blankets. When I succeeded, she just sighed, then helped me swing my legs around.

“Hang on, let me get your clothes.”

I looked down at that and frowned at the realization that I was wearing a hospital gown and could feel the cool air from a nearby open window on my very bare backside now that I was upright. Though I supposed my other clothes were ruined, between the bullet hole and the blood.

Shifters had to learn early not to get too attached to our wardrobes. Sigh.

Leigh helped me into soft leggings and an oversized tee, the outfit finished off with my favorite pair of jingly sneakers. I was still a little bit sore around the bullet entry and exit points, but the more I moved, the more I came back to myself, and nervous energy thrummed through my veins like electricity or the staccato beats of techno-music.

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