Wolves' Bane (The Order of the Wolf, #3)(39)

From the corner of my swimming vision I saw the forest and knew, once he got me in there, I’d be lost forever.





Chapter Eighteen





Lines in the Sand


“Just give up, Morgan. It’ll be better this way. Once King Lazarus has claimed you, it will all make sense.”

“Let her go.” Rage consumed Cal, his blade sliding deep, slicing open the putrid flesh straight through to the half-beast’s kidney.

The creature cried out as he dropped Morgan, releasing her body so suddenly that she crumbled onto her hands and knees.

She gasped for air, then fell to her side, just as the beast spun, taking the dagger with him as he swiped his gnarled clawed fist toward Cal’s face. Cal backhanded it out of the way, then barreled into the beast’s side, forcing him to meet the blades of the other Hunters, taking the beast away from Morgan.

Lance caught him with his sword. One quick blow and the beast’s head parted from its body, both hitting the ground seconds later.

Cal rushed to Morgan, his hands searching her, assessing her injuries, relieved when he heard her drawing in small but steady breaths.

“Is she okay?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Cal grunted as he picked her up, cradling her gently against his chest.

“I’ll get the healer,” Phenton said as he raced off ahead.

“There’s no mortal wound. I’d be able to feel that.” Cal started toward the house, thankful when she moved a hand to rest against his chest.

“Thank the f*cking gods for that, Cal,” Lance said as he kept pace with him, leaving the others to tend to the monster’s body. “He crossed the boundary. He could have taken her.”

Cal blew out a breath and shook his head, his thoughts troubled, his heart still pounding with adrenaline. “Trust me, I know, and it’s not gonna happen again.”

Cal watched over Morgan while the healer—one of the old scholars—checked her body for wounds. She had fallen unconscious shortly after he’d lifted her from the ground and hadn’t yet woken up.

“No major wounds, nothing fatal.” The healer’s wrinkled hand fluttered over the ugly bruises that darkened Morgan’s neck and jaw. “He had a good hold of her here, could have done a lot of damage. Must have punched her pretty hard as well.” He closed his eyes as he laid his hands on Morgan’s forehead.

Cal’s heart was still beating like it was trying to pump right out of his chest. It had been a close call. Too close. Seeing Morgan in that beast’s clutches and feeling the momentary sense of loss—feeling like he might be too late—nearly crippled him on the spot. It was enough of a warning to convince Cal that the time for waiting had come to an end. They needed to bond. Morgan needed his strength, his power.

“How is she?” Andrew asked from the door.

Cal ran his hand down his face, then along the scuff on his jaw as he shot a frustrated look over his shoulder. “Okay, I think. Just a little bruised.”

The healer sighed as he pushed himself up from the bed. “She’s sleeping peacefully now. I’ve removed the pain and started the healing process. The bruises shouldn’t last more than a day or two. Her ribs will be tender as well, nothing broken, but she will feel some discomfort when she wakes up. I’ve done my best to minimize it though.” As he passed Cal, he laid a hand on his shoulder and met his eyes with a hard stare. “You must bond with her, young man. I can’t understand why you’ve waited. She could have been killed. Or worse.”

Cal didn’t argue. The old healer was right. There was nothing more to say.

“Thank you, we appreciate your help,” Andrew said as he escorted the old man out.

Cal moved over to the bed and stared down at her. She did look peaceful. Her breathing was deep, her eyelids fluttered in sleep. With the exception of the darkening finger marks along the column of her throat and the nasty bruise along the edge of her jaw, she looked the same as she had the first night he had crawled into bed with her. She was fine, she was safe and he needed to take care of some things before she woke up.

He ran his finger along her cheek. That was a close one. He’d almost lost her before he even had a chance to have her. No more mistakes. No more delays.

He left their room, shutting the door quietly behind him, and started toward the back staircase at the other end of the hall.

“Cal, where are you going?” Andrew was on his way back from the main staircase.

He shot an angry look over his shoulder. “She wasn’t safe, Andrew. On our own property, she wasn’t safe. I need to reinforce the boundary markers. I need to add another symbol that will prevent bitten humans from coming in.”

Andrew caught up and put a hand on Cal’s shoulder to stop him. “That seems like a good plan.” He cleared his throat. “But you also need to bond with her. Make her strong.”

Cal waved Andrew’s words away, his anger mounting once again. “Don’t you think I know that? For Christ’s sake, Andrew, it was Morgan out there, my Huntress. Don’t you realize how responsible I feel?”

Andrew’s gaze softened. “Sorry, you’re right.”

Cal started down the stairs. “I’m going to tell her what she needs to know—what she needs to hear—and then I’m going to bond with her.”