Page 14 of Broken

He Changed his head back to human. “It’s fine. You’re okay,” he said. “You need to be in wolf form to heal. I’ll take care of you.”

She was not impressed.

He took a step forward, and she growled and lunged.

She was quick. Cole burst instinctively into wolf form and blocked her, facing her down.

His wolf was big, muscled, and tough. She was much smaller, more delicately built.

She did not seem to realize this. She stood up to him like a wolf twice her size.

Any other time, he would have admired that, but now it was the last thing he needed. She was still bleeding, still weak, and still stubborn.

He pressed forward, growling, letting his dominant energy envelop her. She was clearly not used to being in a pack—not used to other wolves at all. She looked surprised, and then pissed.

Not the time, he told her. Wolves communicated with each other primarily in feelings, not words, but she got the gist of it. She just didn’t care. She didn’t trust him, she wasn’t a pack member, and she wasn’t backing down.

Except the wound was starting to open up again.

With a mental sigh, Cole lunged.

He closed his jaws around the back of her neck and took her down. She howled in protest, and he tightened his jaws fractionally.

He wasn’t hurting her, although he could sever her spine with one bite if he wanted. He just bore down on her with his weight and dominance, forcing her onto the floor.

It was the way alphas often dominated wolves in their own pack. It was also the way adult wolves disciplined cubs. Asserting their dominance, letting them know who was in charge.

It created an instinctive reaction—a feeling of safety and submission. Like being a kid again.

He just hoped that she’d respond.

She went completely rigid, and then, gradually, she relaxed under his weight. He could feel the burning of her wound underneath him, like a ribbon of fire.

He slowly pulled back, alert for her to make a run for it, but she just lay there on her side, panting. His wolf said, She is hurting. He stepped forward and started licking the wound.

To Cole’s surprise, a faint flicker of blue light glowed around the edges of it, and it began to cool down. Maybe contact with another wolf was accelerating her shifter healing? Was it possible that her magic somehow suppressed her shifter side? Or had she done it on purpose?

He couldn’t imagine that. He and his wolf had their differences, but he’d always accepted and reveled in the fact that he was a shifter.

Even when his dad smacked him and Boomer around, trying to beat their wolves out of them.

It was better than being human—the sharpened senses, the connection with the earth, the strength and speed and healing powers, the sheer glory of running in the moonlight, the hunt and the chase.

He’d wished a lot of things about him and his life were different, over the years.

But he’d never wished he wasn’t a shifter.

Why would she want to give that up?

When she seemed calm, he Changed back to human, grabbed the magic ointment and spread it on the wound. This time she didn’t object. Then he bandaged her up and lifted her onto the bed, pulling the covers partway over her to keep her warm.

But when he started to walk away, she lifted her head and gave a soft whine, as good as saying, Don’t go.

Cole gave a half-grin in spite of himself. It seemed his wolf presence was comforting after all. Who knew?

“Okay,” he told her. “For a little while. But I have to stay human.”

He found his pants on the floor where he’d shed them when he Changed, and put them on. After he checked the security monitors again, he climbed into bed next to Ireland’s wolf, half-sitting with the pillows behind his back.

She immediately curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder, and gave a contented sigh.

For fuck’s sake. But Cole wrapped his arm around her and settled in.

Gradually, a kind of contentment stole over him. His own wounds and bruises began to heal up, the soreness went from his muscles, and the agitation faded from his mind.

But he didn’t sleep. As usual, he kept watch.