Page 13 of Soul Bound

I see the internal battle going on in her head, her eyes are so expressive, every emotion she has is immediately written across her face. “Ugh, fine.” She stomps over to me and plunks herself down on the leather seat. She flips her hands over so I can see what I’m working with. They are scraped up and there are a few puncture marks from where the sharp rocks had pierced the skin. If she was a shifter, these would be healed in the next hour, but humans are so fragile.

I sit down next to her and I don’t miss the way her entire body stiffens. I slowly grab her wrist and bring her left hand over first and rest it on my thigh so I can carefully clean out the dirt and blood. Now that her long coat is gone and she’s left in a simple short-sleeved black T-shirt, I can see just how thin she is, and I can also see the thick scars that wrap completely around both wrists.

“What happened here?” I ask calmly, even though my wolf is snarling like crazy at the sight of them.

“Nothing.” She sniffs, effectively dismissing my question.

I decide not to prod—for now anyway. “Since both of us have questions, it’s only fair we both answers some. I’ll answer your questions as long as you promise to answer mine. Deal?”

She nervously bites her bottom lip. “Deal, but I get to go first.”

I fight back a smile, but nod. “Of course.”

She looks around the room at each of us, her eyes narrowing slightly when she looks at Ransom. “You guys are werewolves.”

“Was that a question?” Remi asks, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Pru.

“Not really, but I’d still like one of you to confirm it because I don’t like thinking I’m going crazy.” Something flashes in her eyes, an emotion I can’t place, but it’s gone before I can get a good read on it.

“We aren’t werewolves, we’re wolf shifters,” I tell her, putting a bandage on the small gash on her palm.

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“That’s what I said!” Pruitt interjects. To this day, she still refers to us as werewolves, Ryker is constantly correcting her. I swear she just does it now to annoy him.

“No, there’s no such thing as werewolves.” I give Pru an annoyed look, “My turn. Who told you to come find me?” I put her left palm back on her leg before reaching for her right hand. I feel the scarred skin of her wrist under my fingers as I do.

She purses her lips like she’s going to try to come up with a lie. Her eyes land on something over my right shoulder and her head tilts slightly like she’s listening to something. Her eyes slide back to me after a minute. “Her name is Thalia.”

“I don’t know anyone named Thalia.” I shake my head at her.

“You do, you just didn’t know her name,” is all she offers before she turns to glare at Ransom. “Okay, my turn, why did you try to eat me?”

“I didn’t try toeatyou!” Ransom gapes, appalled the human thought he’d eat her. “I smelled Ranger’s blood, and I saw you running away. My wolf thought that you had hurt him and were fleeing from the scene. My wolf didn’t like seeing his twin hurt.”

“Fair enough.” She nods, her face still has a wary look. “Keep the teeth to yourself,Cujo.”

Ransom snorts. “You can call me Ransom.”

“Ranger, Ransom, and Remington. I’m sensing a theme here.” The side of her mouth picks up some, like she’s trying not to smile. “You said you had four brothers, what’s the fourth one named?” she addresses Remi.

But it’s Pruitt that answers. “His name is Ryker and he’s my mate. He’s out hunting a rogue with his friend Sawyer right now though. My name is Pruitt, by the way.” She gives a small wave.

“All R names. So, you’re like the Kardashians of werewolves,” she deadpans.

“Yeah, I’m the one with the sex tape.” Ransom snickers.

“Fuckingeww, dude.” Remington slugs his shoulder.

“What’s a—” Winslow starts to ask, but I cut her off.

“My turn to ask a question.” I place her now bandaged hand back in her lap. “What did you mean, I didn’t know her name?”

“Well from what she’s told me, she was choking on her blood and couldn’t exactly introduce herself.” Winslow’s eyes once again flicker to behind me briefly. “She was thankful that you were there though.”

“You’re not making a lick of sense,” I say, frowning.

Letting out a big sigh and turning so she is facing me more, she looks me dead in the eye. “Three months ago, you held the hand of a woman who was dying. Her baby had been cut out of her and she was bleeding out. You couldn’t save her, but you stayed with her until she passed.”

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