Now he really was concerned.
Where the hell was she?
He picked up the t-shirt she'd been wearing the day before, which was lying on the floor, and walked back to the main reception area. He said good morning calmly to the two remaining guests, who were leaving a little later. He wished them a safe journey as pleasantly as he could, and then, his heart beating madly, he summoned Rebel and Fire to heel and left the ranch for the yard. He rubbed their noses in her t-shirt thoroughly and leapt up on Storm.
“Find...” he growled out to the dogs and they all shot out of the gate as fast as they could. He had a feeling growing inside of him. A very, very bad feeling.
The stupid, stubborn, girl... I'll never forgive myself if anything's happened to her. I should have let her ride him while I was there... I should have guessed she'd do something like this.
The dogs raced ahead, criss-crossing each other on the trail ahead.
“Find...” he called out again, urging them on.
He was praying he would see her wandering back any moment. That she'd just taken a small tumble and was unharmed. But there was no sign of her.
They veered off to the right fork of the trail and he thundered behind them, his heart beating so wildly, he felt it would burst through his chest. The dogs began to slow and sniff their way through the trees to Eagle clearing. He didn't like to disturb the eagles normally, Storm wasn't that keen on them either, since they'd dived at him once before, but he didn't care fuck all about that right now.
He dismounted and called his dogs to him. He reinforced her scent, rubbing their noses in it once more, and they ran around the woods randomly for a moment until Fire caught on to something and gave a loud bark. He re-mounted Storm and followed his dogs as they surged forth, crossing the clearing and down the long steep bank the other side. He pulled Storm up and gasped in shock at the sight before him.
Rebel and Fire sat next to her broken body.
Her bootless foot was twisted back on itself in an obvious break. Blood smeared the pale skin of her face and a large amount covered the rock beneath her head. But worse than that was the angle of her broken neck. His heart wept for her. He jumped down and crouched at her side, holding her close. He listened with his ear on her chest and was overjoyed to hear a heartbeat. But it was so weak. Her wrist was limp and her hand cold as he held it in the warmth of his. He felt her pulse and had the distinct feeling she wasn't going to last much longer. He panicked for a moment and stood up, pacing back and forth in distress, thinking what the hell to do.
He couldn't move her. He couldn't leave her to die either.
Then he made his decision.
He hoped she thanked him for it, and didn't curse his name forever, because right now she didn't have much choice, if she wanted to live. And she was much too young to die, he reasoned. He stripped his clothes off and transformed himself into his wolf-self, forcing it along as rapidly as he could, with a straining discomfort. His dogs yelped and scampered off, sitting at a respectful distance. They always found his change to be disturbing, even though they had no fear of him as a wolf.
Finally complete, he stood and shook himself, circling and sniffing at her prone body. He took stock of her injuries. It was so much better in his animal state. He listened intently to her breathing, her heartbeat, and smelled her, touching her face with his nose gently and licking her bloody face clean. Her head wound bothered him almost as much as the break in her neck. It was a large deep gash, and still bleeding profusely. She could have swelling on the brain if she'd suffered a hard knock on the skull. Standing astride her on his long legs and nudging her thick cardigan away from her neck with his nose, he hesitated for a few seconds wondering if he should be playing God like this. It wasn't the first time he'd been in this position. He pushed those deep thoughts aside and acted on his gut instinct, sinking his large, sharp canines into the soft flesh of her shoulder. He held the bite for a moment, savoring her taste, and drenching her thoroughly with his all important werewolf saliva.
He was hoping beyond all hope, with every fiber of his being, that she would survive, and if so, that she would be unharmed. Her bones and tissues healed rapidly with the gift he was bestowing on her. He'd only changed one other in his life. They'd come across Charlene's broken and almost lifeless body lying in her car at the bottom of the ravine below one of the treacherous sharp turns on the hilly road to town. It had claimed more than a few lives in the past. He'd bitten her and she'd recovered without a single scratch. He was praying Maddy's spine and brain were undamaged as he had no idea if they could be repaired by his bite.
Carefully retracting his fangs and licking the wound clean, he snuggled up next to her, trying to keep her warm while the serum in his bite was carried around her body in her bloodstream. A few minutes later, he transformed back to his human state as quickly as he ever had, dressed, and lifted her gently. Supporting her head and neck as best he could, against his broad upper arm, he pulled Storm down close to the ground so he could mount him more easily. Stepping over his saddle, he tugged on the reins, bidding him to rise.