Page 15 of Her Wolf Protector

Tate nodded slowly. "I can't promise anything, but I'll keep an eye out. You let Shaw and Sienna know I'll be away a bit longer, yeah?" He forced himself to walk around the pickup to the driver's seat, stashing the bag in the space behind it, before climbing in. He waved at Hartwin as he drove off.

In the footwell, Arwen Snow lifted her head to take the missing poster between her teeth and shredded it, growling until it was reduced to confetti. By that time, they were out of town.

He would have given anything to be able to talk with her properly, like they had last night before she'd shifted, but fate was fucking with them both now, so he'd have to work with what he had.

"We're outside town now. Climb back up onto the seat. No one will see you. Not that they'd recognise you anyway. So your name is Arwen Snow?"

A nod. She seized the seatbelt in her teeth and dragged it across to the buckle. Tate heard a click as it went in. Fuck, he couldn't do that. His mate was definitely something else.

"Is that why you aren't shifting back? You know people won't recognise you as a wolf?"

She shook her head.

"No bullshit, now. Was there ever anything wrong with your heart?"

A growl.

"I'm supposed to be searching for your corpse, because they think you died a week ago. Hit by a truck or killed yourself or exposure or something. When you've been hiding in my cottage all that time."

Another growl, only this one sounded different. She ducked her head down and sort of curled up in the seat, then made a noise that sounded a little like someone snoring. Either that or a chainsaw.

"You were sleeping?"

She sat up again and nodded.

"You slept for a whole week. That's not a good sign."

Another nod. Then she touched her muzzle to her chest, before tossing her head to the side, her tongue dangling.

"Because of the poison and your heart?" he hazarded.

A nod.

"And how do you feel now?"

She shrugged.

Yeah, they'd have to swing by a veterinary hospital to get the answer to that, and Tate didn't think she'd go for that. Two words: rectal thermometer. Nobody deserved that.

"So what do you propose we do?"

She stretched out a paw, pointing forward.

"You think we should just go back to the cottage and keep hiding? Sure, we could do that, but then she wins. Your mother wins."

A warning growl.

"Right, stepmother. You said she was your stepmother, didn't you? And you're sure you didn't try to kill yourself?"

The next growl told him she'd castrate him with her teeth if he continued along this vein.

"Okay. But if they don't find your body, she still wins. Even if you go into hiding, take a new identity, whatever, eventually, the case will go cold and you'll be declared dead. And with no other family...your stepmother will inherit everything. She'll win. I don't think you want that."

A headshake.

"Ideally, you'd walk into a police station, tell them who you are, and show them evidence of everything you've told me, so they arrest her and you'd be safe. You do have evidence that she tried to kill you, right? It's not just your word against hers?"

Dejected headshaking.