Stolen and Forgiven (Branded Packs #1)(14)

So, no, she didn’t blame Holden for turning her into a wolf. She couldn’t. Not when the alternative would have meant her death. But she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with this new information, this new life of hers. It wasn’t only that she had to learn to shift and do everything that came with being a wolf. It was that she actually had to learn to be a wolf. Comprehend that this wasn’t a dream, that this was her new life. It didn’t make any sense, but sitting around trying to pretend it wasn’t real wouldn’t help anyone.

She’d already noticed she could hear and see better than she had before all this had happened. And earlier, she’d been able to smell Holden’s cooking in a way that startled her. It was as if she could scent the delicate trace of cinnamon, whereas before, she never would have noticed the spice’s presence at all.

This wasn’t her going crazy. Something had changed within her, and she’d have to deal with that. There would be no burying her head in the sand when it came to being a shifter.

If only she could do the same when it came to the other part of Holden’s presence. Mates and bonds and tattoos that signified a connection made no sense to her. She’d never been in a real relationship, let alone one with a man she didn’t know, which from the sound of it, was a permanent one she would never be able to get out of.

His wolf had chosen her.

But what about her wolf’s choice?

What about her choice?

Yes, he was f*cking sexy as hell. With those long lines of muscle that spoke of strength, he was the epitome of her type. He’d forgone shaving that morning so he had just the slightest edge of beard that made her want to feel the scrape on her inner thighs, feel his tongue sliding between her wet folds as he tasted every inch of her.

She blinked and pressed her legs together.

What the hell?

Where had that image come from? She’d been worrying about her place and what it meant and now she could only think about him sliding between her legs and eating her out? There was something definitely wrong with her. Maybe it was a symptom of her new wolfiness. Maybe shifters were perpetually horny, and they couldn’t help themselves.

Ariel closed her eyes and pressed her face into her hands, only to suck in a breath and immediately drop her arms.

Fuck that hurt.

Soren and the others had said she wouldn’t heal as fast as the other wolves until she made her first change, but she knew the brand had already begun to heal. In fact, she’d healed already from the bites and torture from the SAU, so there was no denying she’d been changed, as much as she wanted to. Soren had mentioned that her major healing was a one-time thing since she’d just been changed, but she was foggy about the details. The brand hurt like hell underneath the bandage, but it itched just enough that it had to be healing ever so slightly.

Perhaps it was her wolf that had made her feel almost…safe…in allowing Holden to brand her. Damn, she needed to stop thinking of Holden as the one branding her. It wouldn’t help her decide what to do next.

The truth was, Holden may have held the metal iron, but it hadn’t been him branding her, hadn’t been his wolf.

It had been the humans who had forced him to do it. Who had forced him to do it to countless others. She hadn’t seen all of the Pack yet, but she’d seen enough of them to know Holden must have carried out that trial to the point he might never be whole again. The pain that came from being forced to hurt another person wasn’t something a man like Holden would get over.

“And how the hell would I know what kind of man Holden is at all,” Ariel muttered.

“You need only ask.”

She turned on her stool, her heart racing. “Holden. I didn’t know you’d come back inside.” After the branding, she’d gone inside to heal alone once Soren finished bandaging her up. Holden had offered to come or send someone to be with her, but she hadn’t wanted to face someone when she’d been so weak. That trait wasn’t a wolf thing; it was an Ariel thing. Even with the new senses, she at least had that much of her remaining the same.

He’d remained outside to talk with his Pack. It made sense that he’d needed to do that without her there. Oh, he might have said she could be there, but she knew it differently. He’d risked the lives of so many just for her—a woman he didn’t know. People had the right to vent without her being there. Soon she’d have to deal with the consequences of his actions, but not now. The others needed space to hear the details of what Holden had done, and Ariel needed the freedom not to be lashed at when they first heard.

“I just came back in,” Holden said softly. He frowned and strode into the kitchen fully holding out his hand. “Let me see your arm. You shouldn’t get an infection, not with the change working its way through you, but I want to see the brand.”

Soren had covered up the burn with gauze and tape before heading back out to the porch with his Alpha. He hadn’t spoken a single word, but had glared enough to show her his disapproval. Not only did she need to deal with a Pack in danger because of her, but Holden’s best friend apparently hated her, too.

Perfect.

“If you want to see, sure,” she said, holding out her arm for him. “Soren said it would take a while to heal though, so it’s probably pretty ugly right now.” She’d marred her skin because of the situation and would never be able to take that back. She honestly didn’t know how she felt about that, or frankly, how she should feel about that.