8

My stomach twisted. What if he found out I couldn’t shift? At least, for now, I had a reason to delay.

He dug through one of the bright leather bags tied to the bike. Painted in sharp reds, blues, and yellows, they looked like his moccasins. A quiet murmur escaped him when he found what he needed. Bandages. Antiseptic.

He came toward me carefully. I tensed. Alphas weren’t usually gentle.

“You’ll want to stow the knife,” he said, lips twitching. “The ride’s rough.”

I hated giving it up, but he was right. I held it out.

“Trade,” he said. He handed me the supplies and took my knife carefully. “I’ll return it later.”

I nodded, trusting him… but I noted exactly where he put it.

Seeing I wasn’t making progress, he said, “Let me help.”

He poured antiseptic over my cuts. I hissed. His eyes met mine.

“It’s okay,” I said quickly. “I can handle it.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” he said softly. “But I believe in you. You’ve made it this far.”

His words lifted me. I had survived the Bloodfang pack’s cruelty. This was just another challenge.

He wrapped my arms and elbows with steady hands. Strong, careful, protective. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe.

“You may look like a mummy, but at least your wounds won’t get infected,” he said. “Out here in the Emberfang, you can’t be too careful.”

A stray strand of my hair fell across my face. We both reached to tuck it back, and our hands almost touched. He jumped back like he’d been burned.

“Better tie our hair,” he muttered, turning away to search the packs on the SHADOWFEN.

I grabbed my hair tie, realizing how wild I must have looked blood on my arms, hair in my face, knife in hand. And yet… he’d saved me. I tied it back quickly, unsure why I even cared what he thought.

“Lucien can be a little rough,” he said without looking at me. “Luca’s unpredictable. But they’re good people. They helped me when I was exiled, then took me in later.”

“You’re all exiles?”

He nodded, running his dark hair through his hands, muscles flexing beneath. I couldn’t stop staring at him the way his chest and abs moved, the V lines tapering down… I looked away, flustered.

“Like what you see?” he asked, winking. My cheeks burned hot.

“Front or back?” he added, gesturing at the SHADOWFEN.

The seat was big enough for both of us. If I rode in front, his strong arms would cage me in while he drove… and my imagination ran wild.

“I’ll ride behind you,” I said.

He patted the seat. When I hesitated, his smile disappeared. “The Howling Echo isn’t like that guy back there. None of us will hurt you. I promise.”

I nodded. No other choice. I swung onto the SHADOWFEN, legs braced.

“Hug me tight, Sele,” he said as the engine roared.

The bike lurched forward. I yelped and clutched him, knees pressing his sides, chest against his back. My hands shifted to hold on, my head resting against him. His scent was warm, grounding like a fire on a cold night.

Speed tore through the trees. Rocks and roots rattled the SHADOWFEN, but I felt safe here, with him. Safe enough to imagine a pack that might accept me. Safe enough to hope.