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Good thing I’m not on my own, then, huh?
Panic turns to perfect clarity. I need to rescue Lucas. I’m not strong enough as a human—but I’m not a human, am I?
I’m a wolf.
Reaching deep, as though there’s a switch inside of me, I flick it. Then, hoping like hell that I haven’t condemned us both to drowning, I duck under the rope bridge, aim for the spot where I saw Lucas go under, and dive.
Well, Fallon dives. But it’s a big blonde werewolf that splashes into the raging river below, desperate to find her mate.
It isn’t easy. Later, I’ll downplay the terror that consumed me as I searched through the water to find Lucas. If it wasn’t for the bond between us, giving me some idea where he was, I don’t know if I would’ve found him. Giving control completely over to my wolf, I let my instincts guide me until my snout is bumping up against Lucas’s body.
I bite him. In the shoulder, through the t-shirt, I get as good as grip as I can on him before kicking my hindlegs, propelling us both to the surface.
After that, it’s a fucking struggle to swim with his body. Nothing will stop me, though. Not the water seeping past my clenched jaw that tries to choke me, or Lucas himself trying to go under when I start to flag a little.
Adrenaline is a hell of a drug. Another spurt has me doing something I never would’ve believed possible: I find the edge of the river and, using the last of my strength, I drag him up on the rocks and the dirt.
Only after I’ve assured myself that he’s most definitely been knocked unconscious by the magic, but that he’s still alive, do I sprawl out on my side, exhausted.
I don’t even give myself the order to shift back. As though my wolf takes pity on me, knowing I wouldn’t be able to handle the stress of figuring out how to go back to being human again, it just happens. One moment I’m a half-drowned wolf. The next? I’m completely naked and drenched, my hair stuck to my face as I lay on my back.
Coming back naked is a given. As soon as I instinctively shifted on the bridge, my clothes were toast.
Oh, well. If anything, I’ll borrow Lucas’s shirt or something. Surprisingly, though, despite it being an evening in November and the river known facetiously as the Winter Creek, I’m soaked, a little chilly, but it’s manageable.
Or maybe that’s just the last of the adrenaline warming me up so that I don’t free to death as I wait for Lucas to wake up.
Eleanor was out for fifteen minutes. Assuming it’ll be near the same amount of time for Lucas, I sit with a rock poking my ass for a few seconds before scrounging up a little more energy.
We’re on neutral territory. If I can get a little closer to the trees, that’s pack land. I don’t know about you, but I think me and Lucas both would feel a lot better about being on wolf shifter territory instead.
I can’t lift him. Now that I’m a wolf shifter, I’m stronger than I was, though my wolf’s definitely got me beat. I can’t carry a grown-ass unconscious man, but by grabbing one of his arms and dragging him as gingerly as I can, I do manage to get him just past the edge of the trees.
He’s probably gonna have a couple of scrapes and bruises from the fall and me lugging him over the ground, but it’s better than being dead.
Though, after the scare he gave me, my mate is lucky I don’t freaking kill him.
I don’t have a clock or watch of any kind, but by the time Lucas is rolling over, spitting up some of the water he must’ve swallowed, it seems like it’s been a lot longer than fifteen minutes.
I spent the time watching him so obsessively, I don’t even think I blinked at all. I’m watching the slight rise and fall of his chest in between searching his face for some sign of the curse affecting him. From his habitual scowl and the fact that he was a good seven years older than Eleanor when time stopped, he already had a few more lines than she does.
Are there more? How did the Luna punish him for trying to leave before the entire curse was broken?
I wait. I wait, and I hope that the swan dive into the river was the worst of it…
When Lucas finally begins to stir, I’m at his side, on my knees. I start to tremble, a lump lodged in my throat as he slowly pulls himself into a sitting position.
He’s an Alpha. Before he says anything, his nostrils flare, relying on his senses: his eyes, his ears, his nose. He takes it all in within seconds, then his head snaps toward me.
“Fallon… what happened?”
What happened? I force myself to sound peppy instead of like I’m a heartbeat away from sobbing in relief. “Do you want the bad news or the good news?”
His bewildered expression tells me he can’t imagine how there’s good news. However, this is Lucas. Of course he tightens his jaw, then says, “The bad news first.”
I take a deep breath, bracing my hands on my thighs where I’m kneeling next to him. “The curse is only kind of broken. When you tested it, the same thing that happened to Ellie, happened to you. You fell, but the rope didn’t catch you, Luc. You kept falling until you hit the creek.”
“That would explain why I’m wet. And you’re wet because…”
