Chapter Eight
Two weeks later, Dani had found that the agonizing time she’d wasted waiting to go into heat was nothing compared to waiting for the pack to pick a night for the challenge. She kept herself busy with housework, but that palled.
One could clean only so much. Nevertheless, she finished wiping off the countertop around the kitchen sink, then attacked the stovetop.
Passing the time was even harder on Ethan.
Most days, she was lucky to get two sentences out of him. Stuck in his own thoughts, he’d paced restlessly back and forth through the house. At night, his body twitched and rolled over the bed as if he fought Greggoire in his dreams. It didn’t help that they’d both stayed in the house most of the time. They’d agreed that the safest way for their plan to work was to stay on the pack’s good side, which meant avoiding contact, which meant being stuck in the house.
Last night, she’d convinced him to shift and let their wolves out to play. After a few attempts at egging him into frolicking on the living room floor, she gave up and lay down beside him. At least their wolves received a good rest.
Banging attracted her attention. It sounded as though it was coming from the garage. WTF?
Still holding the damp rag, she went to open the garage door and saw Ethan with a fist buried in the wall. Dents in the sheetrock and gray shards on the floor gave mute testimony to his rage.
Dropping the rag, she hurried over. “No! Stop it, Ethan!” She grabbed his arm and held on.
The force of his strength lifted her feet off the floor.
He froze. Sweat covered his body and he struggled to breathe. His gaze was fierce and pained. The tangy aroma of his blood filled her nostrils, turning her stomach.
Clicking her tongue, she grabbed his hand.
“What are you doing? You can’t hurt yourself.
You’re dripping blood all over.” She stretched to take his shirt, which was hanging off the handlebars of her old bike. Wincing, she wrapped it around his injury. “Oh, Ethan. I wish I could take it all away. That I could make all our problems be over. It hurts me to see you so frustrated.”
She kissed his bundled-up fist. “Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He flung his hair back from his sweaty face. “It’ll heal.”
“I know, but that doesn’t answer my question about why you’re pounding a hole in the wall.” She glanced up at him while holding the material against his bare knuckles to staunch the blood. “What if the council comes today and says the challenge will start?”
“I’m ready.”
Dani unwrapped the corner of the shirt. His wounds were already healing. “Talk to me. I know this is driving you crazy. I feel like I’m two short steps away from going insane myself, but you’re the one who said this is the only way it’ll work. We’ve got to bide our time, be careful, and after you win your position back within the pack, we can go after Jordan.”
He shook his arm out of her grasp and leaned against the wall. “That’s what I thought, but…Fuck! I hate waiting.”
“But?”
“Something else is going on. Why hasn’t Greggoire come back? And not one pack member has come over to check on you. That’s not pack mentality.”
“You’re right. I don’t even see any of them running around here at dusk. I used to see them all the time.”
He closed his mouth, inhaled through his nose, held it, and blew out the air in a puff. “I can’t figure it out. I feel like I’ve got an idea, but it just floats away, and I can’t solve it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Huh.”
He lowered his gaze to his hand, flexed it.
“Did you notice the other day when we went into town how the store owner rushed into the back room when we got up to the cash register?”
“No, but—”
“You mentioned when I first met you that your dad’s friend Butch was mated to a woman that worked at the store, right?”
“Yeah, that’s Mrs. Danielson. She’s the one who tallied our groceries. Why?” She threw the shirt toward the garbage can in the corner of the garage.
“When you were putting the groceries in the car, I went back inside to grab a newspaper. I thought I’d get caught up on what was happening around Drover. Hell, if nothing else, it would give me something to do besides drive myself stupid in this house while we wait.” He swept back his hair. “Anyway, the owner had Mrs. Danielson pinned against the counter and seemed to be threatening her. When he saw me come in, he turned away and scurried toward the back of the store.”
“Why would he do that?” She frowned.