He strode quickly toward the house, his chest tight as he stared down at her pallid face. She didn’t move in his arms, didn’t even make a whimper of pain.
But he could hear her heart, even if it had slowed and was unsteady, pumping the lifeblood through her veins.
Inside the house he made his way back to their room, kicking open the half-closed door. When he laid her on the mattress, her brows furrowed and her face tightened with pain.
Grabbing the neck of the shirt, he ripped the cotton down her arm and carefully peeled it away from the wound. Blood and skin clung to the fabric and she whimpered, her eyelids flickering as he removed the shirt.
Blood, dark and ominous, pumped violently from the two puncture wounds in her arm. Both holes were jagged from her struggle. His gut clenched with dread and sweat broke out on the back of his neck.
Dammit. The wound was bleeding too heavily. The wolf had hit one of Sienna’s arteries.
He had to act now. No time for hesitation, Warrick brought her arm to his mouth and drew his tongue over the wound. Stroking the punctures again and again, ignoring the coppery taste that filled his mouth.
Even knowing his saliva would save her life did little to ease the ball of fear sitting heavy in his stomach. This was happening to Sienna. She was too pale and too still now.
Only when the blood stopped seeping from her did the tension ease from his muscles. Did the debilitating clutch of fear subside. When the skin around the punctures began to crinkle and turn pink, he stopped licking and lifted his head.
Moving his fingers to her wrist, he let out a seething breath filled with relief at the steady pulse he found. She was healing—surprisingly faster than he’d thought possible, even with his saliva. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth to remove any trace of blood there.
Sienna’s eyelids flickered before her lashes swept up. Her gaze was disoriented, but held no pain now. As she looked into his eyes recognition flickered.
“Warrick,” she whispered.
“Just rest, kid,” he said huskily. He smoothed his thumb over her wrist, his chest still a hell of a lot tighter than he wanted it to be. “You’re going to be a little weak for a bit.”
She shook her head. “No, I feel…” Lifting her arm, she glanced down at the almost-healed wound and her brows knitted. “Oh my God. I feel fine. How is this possible? I was attacked, right? That wolf…oh please tell me I’m not crazy. I did not imagine nearly getting my arm ripped off.”
“No. You didn’t,” he replied quietly, not wanting that image placed back in his head. Not wanting to think about the moment of sheer panic and terror he’d experienced when seeing the shifter attack her.
Her gaze slid from her arm back to him. “I’ve always been a quick healer, but not like this. This is miraculous.”
“I healed you.”
“You healed me?” she repeated and struggled to sit up. “With the way that wolf attacked me, I’m pretty sure a bandage and some antibiotic ointment wasn’t going to cut it.”
“Don’t worry about how I saved you, and just be thankful I did, Sienna,” he bit out.
Dammit, she had no clue how much he’d just sacrificed for her. How he’d just placed his ass on the line. He shoved aside the possible consequences of his actions and focused on the situation at hand.
“I’m sorry. Of course I’m grateful, Warrick,” she said softly, but then her gaze filled with something close to horror. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
So much for hoping she wouldn’t remember seeing him shift. A chill slid through him, but Warrick nodded his head.
It had only taken seconds for him to reveal the secret he’d always kept hidden from her. Kept from most of the world. Seconds for him to risk everything to save her life at the expense of his standing within the shifter community. But along with the unease about his future, there was a sense of relief that Sienna finally knew.
Though it was anybody’s guess how long she would retain that knowledge. The possibility that she’d have her memory wiped was looking likelier by the day.
“You are. All these years…you hid who you were. What you were,” she whispered. “You never once let on what kind of creatures are out there. And, my God, that you’re one of them.”
Heat stole up the back of his neck and Warrick’s jaw flexed. “I couldn’t tell you, Sienna. You or your brother. My kind aren’t supposed to exist.”
“You not only exist, you coexist with humans. And none of us have a clue.”
“I’ve already told you that some humans are aware of the existence of shifters.” He hesitated, wondering if it was his place to tell her. But it was likely she’d discover it fairly soon anyway. “Your father is one of those humans.”