Page 69 of My Fugitive Wolf
"We should go to the gym first?—"
Her suggestion was cut short by a loud soul-crushing howl of grief and pain. They all turned toward Leo, who had shifted, his pale gray wolf stood where his blood still soaked the ground. He turned in a circle, tail down, as if unsure of where he was.
Stephen knelt down, arms outstretched, inviting his brother to rejoin them, but Leo howled again, the mournful sound worse than the first. Then he raced past Stephen, not looking back as he bolted into the woods before anyone could react.
"Oh, Leo..." Samara thought to shift and chase him, but Kellen pulled her close instead.
"Let him go. He'll be okay."
"Are you sure?" Samara certainly wasn't. “Do you think he’s going to try and track down Josiah?”
Kellen kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her, warming her against the cool evening air. "Yes, I'm sure he’ll come back when he’s ready. Josiah has too much of a head start, and it’s going to be a while until Leo stops hurting."
Samara closed her eyes, the horror of what Leo had suffered as she operated burned into her conscience.
“Leo’s a strong omega. He’s always been the first to leap into battle, take the first hit and keep fighting till the end, always knowing that Stephen and I had his back.” Kellen pulled her to his chest and stroked her hair. “He’s done this before, and he always comes back. We’ll wait here in Winterbourne until he does.”
Samara’s breathing slowed to a normal rate as she absorbed Kellen's comfort and hoped he would take comfort from her too. Despite everything else that had happened, she was secure in knowing that Kellen loved her and they would always be together.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
For the first time in over a week, Samara found herself sitting in the dining room of the White Mountains Bar & Grill. The renovations had already started on the kitchen as well as the new sun deck. Kellen sat next to her at 'their' table with his arm around her shoulders. Across from them Grace looked a little less uncomfortable than she had while she adjusted to living outside of the Riverstone mansion. She listened with Samara as Stephen and Kellen regaled them with stories of the brotherhood's past. At the end of the table a chair sat empty in case Leo should return.
"Oh my God." Sarama almost fell out of her chair. "All three of you?"
"Not one of our better moments." Steven grabbed a fresh bottle of wine and popped the cork, serving Grace and Samara first.
"Certainly, not one of our most manly." Kellen picked up the story. "So, the French farmer's daughter got quite the view when she opened the barn for milking and found three American soldiers lying there looking dead."
"Except for the snoring." Stephen split the rest of the wine between himself and Kellen.
"We don't snore, do we?" Kellen picked up his glass.
Stephen sat down with an air of complete satisfaction. "In that condition, it would have been hard not to."
"Then what happened?" Samara asked.
"The fine young lass screamed—too loud, for our poor hung over heads—then slammed the door shut and locked it from the outside." Stephen set down the wine and snagged a few chips.
Even Grace laughed at that. "You're trying to tell me you couldn't have broken the door down?"
"The state we were in, we couldn't even shift back into wolves." Stephen sat down, taking a glass for himself.
Kellen snorted. "Oh, hell, we couldn't even remember we were wolf shifters in the first place."
"Hang on for a sec." Samara reached for her wine. "If you shifted to escape the angry bull that chased you out of the field, your clothes must have been torn to shreds."
"Yep, no clothes for us," quipped Steven.
Grace shook her head. "No wonder the lass screamed. So, she locked you in, how did you get away?"
"The fine French lass returned with her very angry mother armed with a Ruby pistol." Kellen had to put down his glass before it spilled so he could mimic the angry mother with his hands, waving an imaginary gun around.
Stephen couldn't hold back his own hearty laugh. "By God, she had a look that would have sent even the most Catholic of nuns scurrying."
"What did she do next?"
