Meadow rooted through two of the baskets, producing several articles of clothing, which she flung behind her. Sarah caught them, a loose-fitting blue gown, an oversized t-shirt, and two mismatched socks.
“Those belong to Fern, but she hardly ever wears them,” Meadow said, coming up from the final basket. She tossed Sarah a towel and washcloth. “You really should bathe. You smell like sweat and dirt and…” She trailed off, wrinkling her nose distastefully. “Other things. Wait here. I will fetch you some water.”
Chapter 5
Meadow set the steaming basin of water beside Sarah, pouring in a splash of a sweet, floral-scented liquid. Having nearly nodded off while she was waiting, Sarah stood on leaden limbs, muttering her thanks as she began to undress. She didn’t mind having to wash up with a rag. The closest she’d come to a bath since the accident had been her near-drowning, so she was glad to be able to wash up at all.
She tossed Cain’s shirt to the side, and was unbuttoning her jeans when she realized Meadow hadn’t left the room. Sarah looked back at her, arching a brow.
Meadow stood with her arms folded under her breasts, gazing at Sarah’s torso with unmitigated displeasure. Sarah followed her gaze, blinking in surprise as she noticed the scratches and bruising that marred her body.
“Cain did that,” Meadow said, before pressing her lips into a thin, white line.
Her patience already exhausted, Sarah replied, “It’s really none of your business.”
She almost regretted being so rude, but the stunned expression on Meadow’s face was too satisfying. The woman quickly sobered, giving Sarah a dirty look before storming from the room.
Happy to be rid of her, Sarah finished undressing. The bruising extended past her hips and down her thighs, and it was a little frightening to Sarah that she didn’t remember Cain hurting her. In fact, with a degree of mortification, she could remember urging him to be rougher with her.
Goosebumps spread across the surface of her flesh as she washed up. She toweled herself off, then rinsed and dried her hair before putting on the gown. The socks were cozy, and just what her feet needed. As soon as she was dressed, Sarah hobbled over to the bedding, pulled back the canopy and fell face-first onto the mattress.
* * *
Meadow was waiting when they returned to the den, tapping her slippered foot impatiently as Cain set his son down on the floor. Caim tried to get away but Cain pushed him onto his back with a flick of a paw, lowering his head to lick Caim’s face. His pup protested noisily and kicked at Cain’s snout, but his thumping tail betrayed his excitement.
For a moment, nothing else existed for Cain, and he felt guilty for his earlier resentment towards his responsibilities. No matter how much he had enjoyed his time with Sarah, nothing could compare to being back with his son.
As she was prone to doing, Meadow shattered his peace. “Your female is sleeping in my bed.”
Was no one going to give him a proper greeting?
He stepped back a few paces, bridling his irritation as he shifted into his human form. Caim tried to run off again, but this time Fern blocked his path, scooping him up into her arms.
“She can sleep wherever she pleases,” Cain said, rubbing his jaw to ease the tension.
Meadow gave him a hard look. “So you do not deny that she is your female?”
“Okay, my little vagabond,” Fern said to the pup in her arms. “Let’s go find you something to eat.” She winked at Cain before sauntering away with his son.
Cain stared after them, his mood souring as they disappeared down a passageway. He wanted to spend time with his son, not deal with Meadow. He could not blame her, though. While Cain was not in the habit of answering to anyone, least of all her, he recognized that he owed them all an explanation.
According to what Fern had told him on the way back to the den, he had been gone for over two weeks. While he was gone, she and his brothers had made the decision to move to Greystone after they had caught wind of humans in their hunting grounds. When Cain had not come back after the second week, they had started to speculate that he had been injured, or worse.
It was rare that he was so selfish, and he could scarcely imagine what his pack had been through while he had been mindlessly rutting with Sarah.
Meadow’s shrill voice brought him back to reality. “She claims that she is leaving. Is this true?”
“I have not decided yet,” he said, walking past her. He would have explained the situation to her, but if he did, the whole pack would know before sundown. It was best that he spoke with Sarah before confiding in anyone else.
Meadow fell into step beside him, following him down the passageway. Recognizing that her line of questioning was not bearing any fruit, she switched gears.