Page 64 of Hayden's Haven
That’s when a pair of yellow eyes appeared behind her. Hayden swung at the white wolf, frantic to reach Mila. With a quick pivot, the wolf easily changed direction and grabbed Hayden by the leg, toppling him over. Hayden’s back slammed the hard-packed snow, knocking the branch from his hand and the breath from his lungs.
The white wolf growled as he stood over Hayden’s prone form. A mucous mixture of drool and blood leaked from his mouth as he pinned Hayden and prepared to go for the kill. The wolf behind Mila leaping over her and slammed into the white wolf, freeing Hayden.
Hayden was tempted to follow Callen, but Callen was pursuing the wolf on their territory. He had the advantage, and Mila needed Hayden.
Mila’s wolf was still laying in the snow, her breathing fast but steady, but her eyes were closed. The gash above her left eye didn’t look serious, but the snow beneath her was red from the wounds in her neck. Hayden lifted Mila and hesitated only long enough to look in Callen’s direction. He couldn’t see through the near-blizzard conditions, let alone hear anything.
A tree branch snapped ahead of them, on the snow-buried path that led to his house. Two wolves broke into view and blocked his path. Frank and Blade.
“Keep going! We’re fine. Callen’s in pursuit!”
Without delay, Blade and Frank raced in Callen’s direction. Hayden carried Mila down to his cabin. The house was cold. He needed to get a fire started. He was shaking as he laid her on the rug by the fireplace. He could have lost her tonight. As he started the fire, Hayden kept glancing at her, assessing her breathing, her color, her wounds—to make sure they had stopped bleeding. They had. Her wolf was healing her, but it would take time. All Hayden could do was to keep her comfortable and warm. He tucked a warm wool blanket around her body as he sat on the rug beside her and stroked her fur.
Hayden leaned over and kissed her wolf’s forehead. “Come back to me, Mila. I’m not ready to let you go.”
* * *
MILA
Mila woke to the smell of a fire, which was rather disappointing. At first, she had thought she had smelled Hayden, but then she had smelled blood. Coppery, bitter blood. She must have been dreaming about that night the wolf had attacked her and Hayden had killed him. All of her dreams of Hayden lately had been rather peaceful. Most involved running alongside his wolf, or simply holding hands as they walked by a river. None of those dreams involved a fireplace. The crackle and hiss of burning wood prompted her to open her eyes.
She lifted her hand toward the heat, only to realize she was holding up a paw. The memories came rushing back. She had run from Damien’s house. When faced with a flight or fight scenario, a weak shifter always chose flight. Hands—or in this case—paws down.
With the snow coming down around her, and the lack of a coat, she had decided—or rather her wolf had decided—to shift. Fighting her wolf would have been senseless. She had already been trapped for months. Her wolf deserved freedom—they both did—which was the reason to keep running as soon as she cleared the main part of camp. No one would save her from Vance and Truman, except maybe Hayden. Though at that moment she hadn’t given him a chance, afraid of what he’d do and say considering how she hadn’t supported him. That look on his face when she hadn’t turned to him still haunted her.
“Awake at last,” Hayden said.
Her wolf sat up, placing the fire to her back. Hayden was sitting on the rug beside her, naked and torn up. There were claw marks down his chest along with several bites on his arms, though they were healing.
She longed to touch him, to soothe his pain, but she couldn’t do that in wolf form. She’d shift right now if it were so simple, but it wasn’t. Hayden only made it look easy. Her Hayden was such a strong shifter. Would he still beherHayden after he learned the full truth?
Mila lowered her head to the rug.
“Still not planning to shift back, I see. That’s okay, sunshine. I can talk for both of us until you’re ready.”
His smile warmed her, better than a thousand fireplaces ever could.
Hayden reached forward and gently touched the wound above her left eye. The simple contact stung, and she bared her teeth before she could rein her wolf in. Her wolf was still on edge, but she stepped aside, giving Mila control.
“Sorry,” Hayden said, pulling his hand away. “It must have been deeper than I thought.”
The cut was nothing. It would heal, though not as fast as his wounds, even though those were deeper. Her eyes darted to the back room. Would he let her leave his sight long enough to shift? Shifting was always slow and painful, a pitiful display. She wouldn’t humiliate herself by doing so in front of Hayden.
“All right, sunshine. This is what we’re going to do. You’re going to rest and I’m going to put out some food and drink for you. When you’re ready, you’ll shift. If you don’t shift, then I’ll have proof that my cooking sucks, and I’ll have to try my next tactic.” He scrubbed his hair with his right hand. “Though I’m not sure what that is quite yet,” he mumbled to himself as he headed toward the kitchen.
The heat of the fire warmed her fur and skin, relaxing an emotionally and physically overtired body. She watched Hayden until her eyes started to get heavy.
Hayden’s wolf chased her through the woods, playfully nipping at her hind legs, daring her to go faster, to push herself, only to find herself tumbling down a hillside and shifting before she reached the bottom. The hard hit at the bottom never came as her shifter scooped her up and laid her down in a bed of grass, leaning over her with dark eyes filled with love and passion.
He captured her mouth even as his legs wedged between her thighs. His tongue was velvety smooth, stroking her lips, reaching in, slowly possessing her. As she opened her mouth, granting him entry, his powerful cock slid into her pussy. Tongue and cock worked together in unison, making every inch of her body climb toward a new high, one she hadn’t reached yet, one that always seemed to be out of reach.
A loud bang woke Mila with a start. Her wolf jumped up, scented, looked, and listened. The door remained shut. Another bang and she spun around. The bottom logs had broken, causing the ones on top to shift and roll. Toward the back of the house, she heard the sound of running water. Hayden was showering.
All seemed well, except she was still in wolf form. Mila kissed her wolf goodbye, promising she wouldn’t wait so long to release her again. As she braved her mind and braced against the pain, Mila began shifting.
First, her fur receded into her skin. Ears and tail were next, being pulled back into her torso to be reformed. Her bones moved under her skin she could feel every drag against her nerves. Fire and pain so intense shot through her torso as expected, though not easy to endure.
To keep her mind off the pain, she counted every break and pop, assessed every strange angle that her genes forced upon her wolf bones until they acquired the right shape and size for a human. By the time she had fully shifted, Mila lay on the rug sweaty and out of breath. While shifting was always torturous, it wasn’t the worst part of being a weak shifter. It was the looks, the comments, the way the strong shifters denigrated her. A wolf’s value came from their strength, not their brains or their heart. Nothing mattered to wolves more than strength and what a shifter could offer through the blood-bond.
