Page 21 of Claimed By the Guardian

And he was ignoring her as he gently set her down in a bedroom one door down from Mother. There were two twin beds here, and he set her on the nearest one. The sheets were scratchy, thin, and smelled of fresh dryer sheets.

“I’ll bring you some soup.”

“I can get it,” she said. God, she didn’t want him waiting on her.

“I’ll get it,” he said, and she heard the ring of command in his voice.

He wasn’t going to bed her, but he was going to take care of her. Did that make the situation better or worse?

“I am not this weak.”

“This isn’t weak. This is post-adrenaline drop.”

Maybe. Probably not, but it was a good enough excuse to allow her to save face. Then his expression shifted as if he were remembering something, and he patted his back pocket before pulling out a crumpled protein bar.

“It’s crushed but still good. Start with this.”

She reached for it, but he was already opening the packaging. Then he deftly broke a piece off and pressed it to her lips.

He was feeding her?

She opened her mouth to say that wasn’t necessary, but he slipped the food inside before she could get the words out. And then she didn’t speak because the chocolate and peanut butter paste tasted really good. As in really, really good.

He pressed another morsel to her lips the moment she swallowed the first. And again and again until it was gone.

“Thank you,” she said. She really had needed to eat.

“Any medications, conditions, or allergies that I need to know about?”

She snorted. “I’m allergic to cats.”

“Mother doesn’t have one anymore. The wolves kept trying to eat it.”

Her snort turned into a choke. She was lying on her back looking right up into his face. The hard, jagged scar on his jaw was right there and she stroked it with her fingers. She felt his body go rigid with shock, but he didn’t move away. His nostrils flared, and his pupils dilated, but he didn’t draw away.

“Why doesn’t this disappear when you shift back to human? Sammy’s skin looked pristine.”

It seemed like his entire body was held rigid with control, but when he spoke, his words were calm. Excruciatingly even.

“I got the scar when I was ten. Long before my first shift. It became part of my identity, and so it remains, always part of me.”

“How did you get it?”

“I saved my brother’s life.”

“Then it’s a badge of honor.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “That’s what I told him. He said I’d gotten it when I tripped on my Legos.”

She rolled her eyes. “Brothers are assholes.”

“He was half right. I was able to save him because I tripped on my Legos. I was sprawled on the ground when he fell on top of me from the roof. We rolled together on impact. I’m not even sure it was a Lego that split open my jaw, but something did.”

“Why was he falling from the roof?”

Hank’s eyes grew soft. “It was his first shift. Sometimes they’re violent things and that’s where he was when it happened.” He snorted. “He liked to go to calm down.”

She smiled because he was smiling. Because he’d just shared a memory of his brother at an important moment in both their lives. And because that made her feel like he wasn’t a stranger to her anymore. Not an abductor, not a black bear, but a man with a brother and a heroic scar.