Page 53 of Rogue Games

Nodding slowly, I meet Callum’s eye. He knows I’ve had to do it before to myself, many times.

“Yes. But not here. We’re too exposed.” I can’t shake the feeling there’s someone else out there.

CALLUM: You sure you know what you’re doing? Between this and the dance… Everyone's going to be talking.

Let them fucking talk.

DEAN: I’ll bring her to the cabin until the weather breaks, and she’s had a chance to heal.

Callum nods, his gaze fixed on where I’m still clutching Jamie to me, before he shakes his head, and slowly backs toward the trees.

Time to go, for both of us. I need to get her somewhere warm and take care of that arm. Anyone who dares come near us will be met with a wrath like they have never seen before.

“You keep her safe, or her brother’s going to be a problem,” Callum warns before letting the shift take him. His massive dark wolf disappears into the shadowy undergrowth and takes off for home at a fast trot, still recovering from the frantic sprint here.

He’ll let Wyatt know what’s going on and that I have his sister, minus the threatening to kill him part.

I rearrange my hold on Jamie, careful not to jostle her too roughly, and jog down a different path. My wolf knows exactly where to bring her. I’ve never let anyone else come here, but Jamie’s not just anyone.

The need to get her alone and tend to her is overwhelming. Fear claws at my insides that I’m not moving fast enough. That she might have other injuries I can’t see.

Picking up my speed as much as I dare, my insides melt when Jamie mumbles against my chest, her lips brushing against my bare skin as she snuggles in tightly to my body. Pressing her nose into me, she breathes me in deep, and sighs happily. Her good hand moves to my back and holds on tight as we move.

“Cold,” she whispers, her blue lips brushing my torso as she speaks, curling up tighter to me, absorbing my body heat. I wrap myself around her as much as I can to shield her from the driving rain and brush my cheeks against hers.

Dipping my head, I press my nose into her tangled hair. Her delicious scent is almost hidden by the smell of mud and blood. “I know, baby. Not for long, though. We’re almost there.”

This isn’t the usual feisty Jamie. She’s weak and exhausted, and I don’t like it.

In the distance, the eaves of a roof peak through the canopy of trees. Single storey, with a wide covered deck at the front, it’s a beautiful building. It was built with love at the start of my parent’s relationship, when my father was still torn between wanting to accept Mum as his fated mate and his lingering obsession with the now Marie Jones.

The wrong obsession won out in the end, but Mum always maintained they did have moments of happiness here at the start, when he’d allow himself to enjoy their bond and stop fighting it.

Me and my sister are testaments to that.

Running as fast as I can now, shelter is in sight, relief propels me forward. Casting one last glance around to make sure nobody is following us; I climb the stairs and push the door wide open. It’s never locked. Nobody from my pack would dare come here except my siblings or Maggie.

Kicking the front door shut with my heel, I cross straight to the overstuffed sofa and pull a blanket off the back to wrap around Jamie. When I set her down carefully, she whimpers, her slim fingers clutching at my arm as I step away, and the loss of my heat leaves her shivering.

Immediately, I get to work on a fire. While the flames take hold, I turn back to Jamie and examine her. The cut on her head is nasty but nothing to worry about. It’s the effects of the cold that concerns me most. She’s shaking from head to toe. I pull the blanket away and look at her shoulder, dropped lower than the other, and her arm hanging limp by her side.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter through gritted teeth, sick at the idea of causing her any more pain but knowing it’s what needs to be done before she can rest.

She can’t shift until that shoulder is fixed or risk permanent damage, and the longer I leave it, the more painful it’s going to be.

I gently grab her injured arm by the wrist, hand facing down, keeping it straight. Slowly, I move it toward her head, bouncing it up and down in small, controlled movements. Jamie moans, and her face scrunches up tightly in pain, but thankfully, she doesn’t fight me.

“Dean?” Jamie’s voice is small, frightened, and my wolf whines, wanting to take all of her pain and fear away.

“That’s it, Jamie. Good girl.”

When her arm is level to her shoulder, I rotate it slightly until I feel it pop back into place, and a pitiful whimper passes her lips. It needs to be secured, but I need to get her dry first.

“Stay,” I order softly, even though she’s already passed out again. I run to the kitchen and pull out the first aid kit, sending medical supplies tumbling across the floor. Gathering what I need, I hurry back to Jamie's side and dump it all on the coffee table. Scissors in hand, I cut her vest off, growling in anger when I see the nasty bruise blooming on her side and a graze on her hip. I remove the shredded fabric and strap her arm up properly, before sliding her soaked shorts down over slim hips.

Feeling like a creep, I close my eyes as I remove her sodden underwear and clamber awkwardly onto the sofa beside her. The fire is starting to take hold, but my body will still be warmer. Covering our naked bodies with the blanket once more, I wrap her up in my arms and sling one leg across her thigh, cradling her from behind.

With skin-to-skin contact from head to toe, and the logs in the large stone fireplace starting to blaze, it won’t take long for her body temperature to return to normal, and her wolf to start repairing her injuries.

---