Page 84 of The Alpha Dire Wolf
“No,” Lincoln said, spitting blood. “No ambulance.”
“You’re joking. Right? You’re lying in a pool of your own blood. You need help.”
He shook his head and then groaned. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”
“You are very badly hurt. Possibly fatally.”
“Not fatal,” he grunted and then slumped limply back flat to the forest floor. “I’ve been hurt worse.”
“I highly doubt that.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his torn lips. “Promise. Besides, you’re here now. I’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”
I pulled my eyes away from his face, looking down his body as he talked. Some of his wounds were fresh and still bleeding, but others were older and healing. Ugly and red, but closed and showing signs of fresh pink skin. That was good, but they presented a new problem, including the one on his face.
Because it most certainly hadnotbeen there the night before.
“Did the wolf do this to you?” I asked.
“No. The wolf did not do this. You know that.” He rolled slightly, looking me directly in the eyes. Staring, unblinking. Forcing me to look right at him. Right into those different-colored eyes. Heterochromia—a fascinating genetic trait that made it difficult to look away. A trait he shared with the wolf that had saved my life.
Those eyes were boring into me now. They contained a truth. A truth he wanted me to see.
“Lincoln.”
“Yes?” his voice was stronger now. Less near the precipice of death. That was good.
“Why …” I paused, gathering myself while trying to ask the absurd question. “Why are your eyes the same color as the wolf? And how did you get here? Where is the wolf? It was hurt badly … just like you.”
My eyes fell to his side, where two long, jagged marks that were still all sorts of ugly were beginning to heal. Bisecting them, however, right through his clothing and down through the flesh, was a wider, more vicious-looking gash. Right where the tree-thing had whipsawed the wolf near the end.
“Lincoln, what the hell is going on here?” I swallowed. “Who are you? Whatwasthat thing?”
A long silence lingered between us, long enough I had to wonder if he had maybe passed on without me knowing. Then his chest rose and fell in a large, ragged breath. He cautiously pushed himself into a sitting position across from me, wiping at his mouth, likely trying to remove some of the black gunk smeared across his chin.
“I don’t know what it was,” he said at long last.
My eyes narrowed.
“Honestly,” he replied, taking another deep breath. “I’ve never seen or heard of any such thing before.”
That wasn’t good enough. Not by a long shot. Not for me, not now, after all I’d witnessed and gone through. He needed to do better.
“But you weren’t surprised by it either.” I didn’t phrase it as a question. I didn’t want him dodging the answer.
“I’ve seen a lot of unusual things,” he said, speaking carefully. “To the point that it takes a lot to truly surprise me these days.”
He was still holding back. We both knew it. I opened my mouth to accuse him of just that, but he surprised me by continuing with blunt honesty.
“There’s a lot you don’t know.”
My laughter echoed through the forest like a gunshot. “Lincoln, if there is one thing Idoknow, it’s that I don’t know a lot. That everyone around me has been leaving me in the dark. Including you. So how about for once, you break that trend, andtell me.”
I hadn’t meant to get angry, but I was, and it was showing. I locked eyes with him, and this time I held them, forcing him to be the first one to look away. It was key that he knew this was a make-or-break situation with me. No more double-speak, no more avoidance. The truth, or nothing more.
“Not here,” he said at last. “We should leave before it gets darker. Get to your place.”
Bring him back to my place? That didn’t seem like a good idea.
