Page 17 of Fated to the Feral Wolf

Shay nodded, and Brielle began a gentle series of pokes and prods to the area, even asking Shay to roll over so she could check her back.

But to my utter relief, there was no wound, no pain, andnothing of evident concern. Not even a scar, which was common with wolfsbane injuries.

“I need to speak with John Henry. This is unprecedented as far as I know, but he’s older and might have seen… whatever this is.”

“Am I cleared, though? Do I need to stay here if I’m better?”

Brielle hesitated, which gave Leigh an opening.

“Aw, come on. Don’t be the doctor right now. If she feels fine, let her sleep in her own bed.”

Brielle nodded her acquiescence. “Ifanythinghurts or feels weird, call me immediately. I’ll swing by after I talk to John Henry and let you know if he has any idea how this happened. But for now… enjoy your miraculous recovery.” She shrugged, then paused. “Also, after a lot of hemming and hawing last night, it’s been agreed by the top five that Gaelguardingyou didn’t work out the best, given… your roommate and the tension. So, on a strictlytrialbasis, you’re guard-free.”

I sat in shock as I watched her hurry from the room, an anxious tinge to her usually peaceful scent.

But I didn’t have much time to focus on that because my mate was stretching before jumping out of bed with long-pent-up enthusiasm. “I get to go back to my room and get out of this fishbowl of a sick ward!” She turned a blazing smile on me, then Leigh.

“You’re welcome, milady.” Leigh bowed extravagantly. “But if you’re bringing the mutt toourroom, I must insist that he be bathed. Thoroughly.”

Both women swiveled toward me, eyes lingering on various parts of my matted coat. I lowered my ears and rumbled displeasure as what she’d said sank in. A bath?No way.

Half an hourlater

There was soap in my eye, my ears were wet, and I had imagined things goingfardifferently if ever my mate stroked my hindquarters. Instead, I was sneezing because the fake-oatmeal-scented wash she was using was terrible, and there were bubbles everywhere.Everywhere.

“Oh, come on, now. Is it really that bad? You’re getting a rubdown. Surely that part feels good, at least.” Shay emphasized her point by really digging her fingers in and then using her nails to lightly scratch behind my elbows.

I huffed in answer. That part did feel good, I guess.

“Time to rinse, anyway.” She hummed a quiet tune as she sprayed me with the detachable showerhead, and I bore it with all the dignity I could muster. Before she got the towel, I shook the water from my coat to her squeals.

Now,thatwas fun.

After she dried me to her satisfaction, she cleaned the bathroom and then showered herself. But not until after shooing me out the door, because “gentlemen don’t peek”—a fact I found amusing. I was no gentleman when it came to her. Though, my wolf form was less concerned about her nudity than her happiness. I kept vigil outside the door until she was finished and settled onto her bed, looking exhausted.

“You should have let me help, woman. You’re too stubborn for your own good,” Leigh said, flipping through a magazine on her own matching bed. She appeared bored, but I didn’t miss the worried looks she kept tossing Shay’s way.

“I’m fine now, just a little overheated.” She fanned her face.

“Hey, be a good puppy and go bump the switch for the fan with your nose,” Leigh called to me, gesturing toward the far wall, where a row of switches was indeed lined up next to the door.

I growled lightly at thepuppyremark, but crossed the roomand nudged each switch until a fan began to spin lazily overhead.

“You know, having a service dog might be useful after all.” Leigh shot me a shit-eating grin, and I grumbled again before climbing on the foot of Shay’s bed to keep her company.

“Leigh, quit,” Shay admonished, patting the spot by her side for me to come closer. As soon as I did, she kissed me on the top of my nose. “He’s not a dog. He’s… mine.” The words were a soft caress, the claim she staked on me, however tenuous, a balm to my weary soul.

I’d spent hundreds of years alone. With my parents, yes, and then eventually Reed when he was born. But there was a hole in a wolf’s soul, one that couldn’t be filled by any but his mate. The looming darkness of despair that I had no mate and was destined to be alone forever was the reason I’d done the impossible and sought an audience with the Fetya.

The thought of the challenge of finding them and then the horrible future they’d imparted with no small measure of glee soured my stomach. I wouldn’t let it poison what I could have with Shay, though. I wasn’t alone anymore. I wasn’t a man who could hold her, sure. But I had her in my life. More than I ever dared hope after the awful news they’d given me.

It turned out that even the Fetya hadn’t foreseen this possibility. Or if they did, they hadn’t shared it. Only that the first time I held my mate in my arms would be the day she died. Not in so many words; that wasn’t the way of the fates. They cackled and gestured, the shortest of the three slapping me on the forehead to instill a vision.

And oh, a terrible vision it was. A stunning beauty. Tight black curls flying in the wind, beautiful tawny skin in the pale morning light. She was everything. And then I saw myself rushing to hold her, and the explosion of light bursting out of her as soon as we touched.

The vision darkened after that, and I was left more bereftthan I’d entered. Because what torture was it to know that I had such a beautiful, perfect mate and that I’d find her, only for her to die in my arms?

So I shifted, and I ran. That vision couldn’t come to be if I never took skin again. Which was why I hadn’t.

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