He was inside the Shaman’s house, shifting, when Louisa shouted for Dox. The fear in her voice reverberated through him. With a growl, he forced his body to hurry. Panting, the last of the shift ripped through him and he stood, grabbed a blanket off the couch and tied it around his body as he ran out the door.
Dox blocked his way on one side, and Louisa blocked his way on the other. Intellectually, he knew that there was nothing he could do to help, but his instincts were to push them aside, bare his teeth, and chase them away from Rylee. To protect her at all costs. From there, he could smell her blood, and it sent him to the edge of his control.
“What can I do?”
“Go get some hot water going on the stove. And stay in the house. There are extra clothes in the guest room.” Louisa’s eyes flicked up to his, briefly, and he saw the command in them. His spine stiffened, and a growl slipped past his lips.
Dox smoothed things over. “Another Shaman is coming, you need to get some clothes on and have that hot water ready for her.”
Frustration coursed through him. Yet again, there was nothing he could do, not really. He knew a make-work job when he was handed one. Shit, Alex could have gotten the water hot—where the hell was the submissive werewolf anyway?
Liam jogged into the house, grabbed some sweat pants and a shirt from the guest room, and yanked them on. He had to stop shifting while still wearing his clothes.
There were two pots of water already on the stove, and all he had to do was turn the heat on. Two clicks later, there was nothing else he could do but wait. And pace.
Not until he’d passed the couch twice did his eyes really flick over it, showing him what his nose already knew if he’d been paying attention. Pamela watched him warily, covered to her chin with a blanket the same color as the couch. Alex was curled up on her feet, his big eyes brimming with tears.
“Rylee die?”
Liam let out a growl. “No. They’re going to save her.” He had to believe it. There was no room for doubt in his head or he’d lose it completely, the wolf in him already making it hard to stay calm. Surely, they wouldn’t be brought back together just so he could watch her die. He closed his eyes, fought the panic that gripped him, forced it down as he would the wolf in him. Opening his eyes, he stared at the witch in surprise.
Pamela held a hand out to him. He clenched his jaw and ignored her offer of comfort. He wouldn’t hurt her, would help her survive, would even carry her if he had to, but he didn’t have to be her friend. The wolf in him agreed. Pamela was a part of their pack, but on the outskirts as far as he was concerned. She could never be fully trusted, not like he’d like to. Again, he paced the living room, his bare feet slapping against the floor with each step he took. The whole place smelled like a hospital: astringents, bandages, sterilization. There was almost no smell of a home that was lived in.
The witch sat up, struggled to get her legs out from under Alex’s weight. “The Shaman knew we were coming. There were bandages and everything already laid out for me and when they put me on the couch … .”
Liam paused in his pacing long enough to stare down at her. “What happened?”
She bit her lower lip. “They already knew that it was Rylee that had been hurt. The Shaman muttered under breath, ‘That’s what you get for tangling with a giant’. I think she didn’t know I could hear her.”
He rocked back on his heels. “How the hell did they know?”
The sound of footsteps brought him around to see a grim-faced Dox.
“Crystal, the other Shaman, is here helping Louisa.”
Pamela beat Liam to the question burning through his mind. “Is Rylee going to be okay?”
Dox gave a slow nod. “I think so. They’re shifting the rib back in place. Once it’s there, then she should heal up.”
“How are they shifting it back in place?” Liam asked, a cold pulse of dread thrumming through him.
Dox swallowed hard, the glint of his lip ring catching the light. “They had to cut her open. I left before—”
Without another thought Liam bolted for the door, but Dox caught him around the waist and threw him backward.
Snarling, Liam charged forward again, but he hadn’t taken two steps, and then he couldn’t move at all. Not even his head. A spell held him fast, took away his freedom. Just like before. Sweat and fear slid through him, which only enraged his wolf.
“I’m sorry, Liam. You have to stay here,” Pamela said, but all he heard was Milly’s voice, her taunting words, and the feel of the collar around his neck.
No, Pamela would never be trusted. And if she wasn’t careful, that lack of trust would bring them head to head.