Page 61 of Star-crossed Betas

A soft thud against the front door interrupts our comfortable silence, and we both suddenly turn to look at each other as ifto confirm we heard the same thing. We’ve quite literally had nobody except Alice, Niamh and Will come to visit the past few weeks, and they all just let themselves in. We pull the same bewildered expression at each other as if to say, ‘I’m not expecting anyone’. I tap Cee's leg gently so he’ll lift his feet, and I head to the front door to investigate. The weather is still absolutely miserable, so I don’t want to leave whoever is stuck out on our doorstep for too long.

As I open the front door, my eyes widen in shock when I’m met with a shifted wolf in front of me. His chocolate brown fur is soaking wet, and I can scent the tangy odour of blood on him immediately. His big dark eyes look at me pleadingly, and I reach my hand out to his nose so he can scent me.

“What’s goin’ on?” Cee asks as he approaches behind me.

“We need to get him inside, I’m not sure what’s wrong, but he’s definitely injured, so I don’t think he can shift back.

“We won’t hurt you, but we need to get you inside so we can take a look at where you’re hurt, okay?” I say to the unknown wolf. He nods his head and makes a pained whimpering sound. To have made it to our house as wounded as he looks must have been a mission unto itself.

Between us, we manage to manoeuvre him into the kitchen where the floor is tiled so blood is less of an issue. Cee holds the wolf’s face between his palms and calmly tells him he’s safe with us; we will try and help. He slowly begins to apply light pressure down the wolf’s back.

“Let me know when I reach somewhere that hurts, okay?” he asks, and the wolf nods. When he reaches the wolf’s hind leg closest to him, he lets out an almighty great howl of anguish.

Shit, he must be really hurt.

We heal so fast as wolves the most likely thing is for a bone to have healed too quickly and be set in the wrong position.Breaking bones and re-setting them is no laughing matter, and I can’t help but wince on his behalf.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. Are you injured anywhere else?” Cee asks, and the wolf shakes his head and whines.

“What should we do?” I ask Cee, who I’m grateful seems to be taking control of the situation.

“We need a witch.”

I try calling Noah, but his voicemail informs me he’s currently canoeing in Peru, of all places, and he won’t have any signal for a few weeks. Next, I try Nina Fenwick; she’s not a healer, but I hope she knows someone who can help.

Fortunately, she gives me the contact details of a witch on this territory, so things are starting to look up. I dial the number I’ve scribbled on a piece of paper and pray someone answers.

“Hi, is this Natasha Richardson?” I ask when the call connects.

“Who’s asking?”

“Um, my name is Phoenix Campbell. I got your details from Nina Fenwick? She said you’re a healer, and you live in Yorkshire?” There’s silence for a beat, and I wonder if she heard me, but then she lets out a resigned sigh.

“Why do you need a healer?” she asks sceptically.

“I don’t personally. We had a wolf show up on our doorstep. His scent is beta, so he should be able to shift back, but he can’t. One of his back legs is injured, and he’s covered in blood. We don’t know who he is, and we don’t know to what extent he’s hurt, but it has to be pretty bad if he can’t shift back,” I explain, hoping to elicit some sympathy.

“He’s definitely not part of your pack?” she asks, I’m not sure how that’s relevant.

“No, he’s not. We’ve never met him before.”

“I can’t come to you. You’ll have to bring him to me.” She rattles off an address in Malham Cove, and Cee and I just barely manage to bundle the wolf into the back of my car.

Connor Kelly

When I glance over at Fee, he’s white-knuckling the steering wheel and driving well over the speed limit. The road we’re currently on is pretty uneven, and the wolf in the back whimpers every few minutes. The Satnav says the drive will take around fifty-five minutes, but we’ll be there in forty at this rate.

I reach over and gently squeeze Fee’s thigh; tension is rolling off his shoulders in waves. It takes a lot for our kind to be injured this severely, and it doesn’t look like an accident. I really hope this witch knows what she’s doing because I don’t think this will be a quick fix.

“We’re almost there,” I tell the strange wolf. I can’t explain it, but I feel overwhelmingly protective of him. He’s not pack; I’ve never met him before, and I’ve no idea who he is, but he sought us out to help him, and I feel responsible for him for some reason.

Fee turns left onto a long dirt road with thick conifer trees on either side, making it appear darker than it really is. The downpour of rain all day has made the ground muddy, and I’m grateful we have four-wheel drive. As we near the end of the driveway, a small thatched cottage comes into view. Fee pulls the car up as close to the gate as possible so we have less distance to carry the wolf.

The door to the cottage swings open as we’re trying to get him out of the car, revealing a woman who I’m assuming is Natasha. She walks quickly along the garden path towards us and stares us down assessingly. She scrunches her nose like our scentoffends her. She’s quite small, around five foot three, with long, bone-straight blonde hair and sharp hazel eyes that could burn a hole through you.

“He can come inside. You two will have to wait out here,” she says without any sort of greeting.

“He can’t walk. We have to help him inside,” Fee explains, although I think that fact is pretty evident after she watched us manhandle him out of the car. She narrows her eyes at us mistrustfully.

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