Page 20 of Wolf Reborn

He didn’t have claws or fangs or reliable quick healing. And there was no wolf.

Sawyer said there was no separate wolf; that it was just a part of who he was.

Dez said it felt different, but the same, which was ever so helpful.Thanks, Dez.

Graham and Ash didn’t understand the very idea of separation from wolfhood, having been born that way and never considering the opposite.

Hannah had been the most helpful, pointing out Gavin’s wildness on the full moon. She’d called that his “wolfy instincts.”

The problem was that it didn’t feel like instinct. It felt like failure. It felt like losing control, and Gavin couldn’t have that—could never lose control.

He crested a hill, and for a second, thought he caught a whiff of eau de wet dog. It faded immediately, though, covered by the much stronger, much more distressing scents of gasoline and smoke and blood.

There were heat trails in the air, wisps of smoke coming up from the other side of the hill, which it turned out was a back road, and not just a hill. The road to the Carpenter cabin, he realized. They had been his family’s closest neighbors on many a winter holiday during his childhood.

He rushed over the gravel road to the edge of the embankment, and when he caught a glimpse of the other side, his stomach threatened to heave.

A police cruiser.

Miles’spolice cruiser.

Oh no. No no no no no... That couldn’t happen. Miles couldn’t—

He rushed down the side too fast, losing traction and stumbling to hit the bottom on his knees.

The car was lying on its roof, Miles still buckled into the driver’s seat. He was hanging upside down, unconscious, blood trickling up the side of his face.

Without more than a thought, Gavin rushed to the side of the car. The door didn’t want to open, mangled in the flip that had landed it upside down, so he yanked it out of its frame and tossed it to the side.

As gently as possible, he tried to hold Miles as he released him from the seatbelt.

He still fell, too damn hard, and made a little choking noise in the back of his throat. When Gavin got him onto his back, blood started to trickle out of his nose.

He checked his pulse—there, but not strong enough. Not right for Miles. He was breathing steadily at least, a small favor in the middle of a terrible situation.

“Miles?” Gavin’s voice was whiny, maybe a tinge hysterical, as he pulled out his phone and hit the button to call Dez. “Miles, baby, you gotta be okay. You haven’t had a chance to yell at me for lying to you yet.”

He got a “connecting...” message that didn’t, in fact, lead to anything connecting. For no logical reason, he went back and tried Sawyer. Then nine-one-one.

Nothing worked, because he didn’t have a damned signal. Calling a thousand people wasn’t going to make it better.

He looked into the car, but most of the front end was crushed beyond recognition, and the radio was most definitely out of commission. It was a miracle Miles’s legs weren’t shattered, but they both seemed fine.

The Carpenter cabin couldn’t be too far away, and Gavin didn’t have other options. He shouldn’t move Miles—had already moved him too much—but he couldn’t leave him alone in the snow, bleeding, not even to summon help.

He couldn’t take the chance that when he got back—

Gavin shook his head and rolled his shoulders back. He was a trained soldier, for fuck’s sake. He was not going to lose himself to panic just because the injured party was the most important person in his world.

Scooping Miles up in his arms, he set off at a jog toward the Carpenter cabin. Even if the Carpenters weren’t there, he remembered them having a land line. He could call for help there.

It was farther than he remembered, but it went quickly enough. All the while, he found himself mumbling to Miles, telling him the things he wished he’d said when he had the chance. There was a lot of, “so I’m a werewolf,” and “please don’t die” involved.

He couldn’t have repeated any of it later, but it didn’t matter. It was more distraction for himself than anything important.

The Carpenters weren’t home. He hated to break the door, especially if the ambulance took a while to arrive. He wanted to be able to turn on the heat and not have it all go straight out a broken door. Miles needed to warm up.

So he headed around back, where he remembered the door that led into the kitchen having a window. It still did. Carefully, he set Miles on the ground at his feet, as much as he hated to. Then he broke the window, reached in, and fished around until he found the lock.

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