Gentry (Wolves of Winter's Edge Book 1)(55)

“Gentry,” she whispered weakly.

He looked over at her, locked his gaze on hers, and then dragged those firey green eyes down her body to her offered arms.

She wanted to say she was sorry. Sorry she hadn’t run fast enough, sorry she hadn’t given him more of a chance to save them, sorry she’d been weak, sorry she hadn’t left when he’d asked her to. She wanted to say sorry she was ending them too soon. Her heart was breaking. Nothing was fair. All she could do was close her eyes against the spinning woods as she fell backward into the snow.

When she opened her eyes, the glowing blue moon was there, full and low in the cloudy sky. And then something even more beautiful was there, leaning over her, agony written into his face.

“No,” Gentry whispered.

Gentry cradled her body against his chest as he shook his head in denial.

“Call the witch,” Asher said low.

“Man, she can’t do anything for her!” Roman said from where he paced right on the edge of her vision. “Fucking black magic, Asher? Really? She’ll turn Blaire into one of those zombie wolves you imagined in the woods, and that’s if Blaire’s lucky. You’ll owe a blood-debt to a witch, Gentry. Maybe Blaire will survive the bites.”

“Three percent, Roman. That’s the odds for a woman.” Gentry stood slowly with Blaire in his arms, his eyes empty as he walked her up the road toward Hunter Cove.

So strong.

He acted as if her dead weight was nothing.

Dead weight.

Dead.

“Gentry!” Roman said. “Odine can’t save her!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Asher snarled out in a voice more wolf than man. “Zombie wolf or no, at least she would have a chance at living. Open your eyes, Roman. They’re bonded. If she dies, Gentry dies.”

“That’s not possible. She’s human!”

“Yeah, well, witches and werewolves aren’t supposed to exist,” Gentry barked out over his shoulder. “Anything’s possible.” He looked down at Blaire and repeated that last part through gritted teeth. “Anything’s possible. Do you hear me, Blaire? Don’t quit on me.”

“You’ll die, too?” she asked weakly.

“No, because you’re going to be okay.” He looked back up at the road with a fierce determination glowing in his eyes. And as he lengthened his stride, he swore to her, “We’ll both be okay.”





Chapter Eighteen




Gentry sat in the back seat of Asher’s truck cradling Blaire’s head in his lap.

This was one of those moments he would never forget as long as he lived. It was like a black and white snapshot he’d seen once of his grandpa. He’d never met his grandpa because he’d died before he was born, but Gentry used to stare at the old photograph in Dad’s cabin of his grandpa standing next to the inn, leaning against an old water pump with this hardened look on his face, like life had kicked the shit out of him, and that was as close to a smile as he could muster anymore. Gentry used to look at it and think it so strange that he was dead, and this was the only thing people had to remember him by.

Gentry couldn’t explain it, but he got that same feeling now. Like this was the life-kicked-the-shit-out-of-me moment before he died and left no legacy. And what legacy did he even care about if Blaire wasn’t around? This moment was frozen. Roman was in the passenger’s seat, biting his thumb nail, staring out the window. There was no song on the radio, no talking. Asher was driving, and his profile was rigid and angry. And in the back seat, Gentry was stroking Blaire’s hair out of her face. Already she was drenched in sweat. That would be the fever starting. The poison did that. He was poison.

Asher growled and tossed him a fiery look. “Cut that shit out, Gentry.”

Gentry frowned, and Roman looked over at their oldest brother, too, with a confused look.

“Can you read minds now?” Gentry asked suspiciously.

“No. But I can feel your damn thoughts, and you need to keep it to yourself. You won’t help her that way.” Asher heaved a sigh and took a right onto a road Gentry didn’t recognize. “Odine isn’t what you think.”

“What?” Roman asked. “How do you know about Odine?”

“Because she’s the reason we have our wolves.”

Gentry sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“Mom was human, Gentry. The three of us? We were born human. Odine gave us wolves. She tried to erase the memories, but I started having dreams about it when I was twenty. I came back looking for answers. I found Odine. I didn’t realize she and Dad were a couple. I just thought she was a witch he’d hired. Now I don’t think he hired her at all. I think she was a part of our lives when we were kids, and Dad asked her to make us like him so we could be part of the pack.”