Bitten (Once Bitten, Twice Shy #1)(100)

As she lost consciousness, she was unaware of her furry body turning back into that of a young woman’s. She was unaware of the sight she made – crimson blood soaking into the pure white snow beneath her – and of the fear and panic that such a sight would inflict upon those around her.





CHAPTER TWENTY


For an indiscernible amount of time, Katherine was trapped in a hazy sort of oblivion that allowed only small flashes of consciousness to break through.

A redhead loomed over her – the ends of the woman’s flame-like hair gently tickling her face as firm hands applied pressure to her aching chest. A feminine voice – familiar, but only just – demanded furiously that someone leave the room before his temper caused him to do even more damage to her medicine stores.

Then unconsciousness would beckoned her and nothing.

Another woman – blonde this time – fondly caressed her cheek, quietly assuring Katherine that everything would be okay. The small brunette nearly believed her.

And then more nothingness.

A man sat beside her, his weight causing the bed she was laying on to dip. She couldn’t find the strength to pry open her eyes, but she recognized his grizzly voice as he informed her that if she didn’t wake up soon he was liable to kick her in her “little, worry-inducing derrière” when she finally did.

His threat, of course, was soon followed by the unyielding grasp of lethargy and nothingness.

Large arms encircled Katherine, tucking her safely into the heat of the warm, hard body that lay next to her. She took comfort in the soft swoosh of steady breathing that caused her bangs to flicker back and forth against her sweaty forehead.

And then nothing.

She could only break through to awareness for mere seconds before being tugged steadfastly back into unconsciousness.

Until now.

Katherine knew as soon as she was able to crack open her eyes that this time was different. She felt lucid as she took in her surroundings. Taking note that the bed she was laying on and the heavy quilt that covered her from the chest down were her own, she took a moment to admire the crackling blaze in the fireplace before turning her attention to the man who was standing – or rather, sitting – guard by her bed. Although the book he was reading did a stellar job of hiding his face, she easily recognized the ashy blond head of hair visible above the impressive tome. Caleb.

But why was he here? And why did her body – especially the left side of her chest and the entirety of her back hurt so much?

It took a long moment for her memories to completely return to her, but when they did, she felt her blood freeze in her veins.

Cain.

Melanie had dragged her out into the woods, claiming that she needed her help with a hurt Mack. But it had all been a trick – a set up – so that Cain could get her alone. Convinced that she and Bastian were mates, he’d planned to kill her and lord her mutilated body over Bastian – cause his demise the same way he’d caused his own brother’s.

Oh God.

Brom and Margaret – Bastian’s parents. Katherine had to tell him what Cain had told her.

She made an uncoordinated grab for Caleb’s arm, managing to latch onto the man’s wrist. He visibly startled, dropping the book he was reading in obvious alarm. He gapped at her for what had to have been close to a full minute before he was able to regain his bearings. “Holy crap,” he muttered. And then louder. “Holy crap! Katherine! You’re awake! How are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere?”

Katherine tried to pull herself up, using her grip on Caleb’s arm to bear her weight.

“No, no,” Caleb insisted frantically, standing up and gently forcing her to lie back down against the plethora of pillows on her bed. “You have to rest. You’ve been so sick.”

“Bastian,” she managed to croak, her voice raspy from disuse, “I have to talk to him.”

Caleb’s eyes widened. “Bastian. Of course! He’ll want to know that you’re up. I’ll get him right away.”

The man practically sprinted from the room.

Ignoring Caleb’s order to stay put in her bed, Katherine hooked her fingers around one of the knobs of her headboard and used it as a tool to help herself sit up. Despite her back’s painful protesting, she was able to get her feet to touch the floor before becoming distracted by shouting from somewhere outside her bedroom, followed by the sound of thundering footsteps in the hallway.

Katherine glanced at the door Caleb had left open when he’d run from her room. And there he was. Bastian.

He was a mess.

His hair looked as if a tornado had landed in the black locks and left behind a wild mane of curls capable only of standing up on end. The dark circles under his eyes seemed almost sinister against the pale alabaster of his skin. And his cheekbones. Katherine knew she couldn’t have been out that terribly long, but she could have sworn that they were sharper – more prominent – than she remembered, which could only be the direct result of weight loss.

He truly looked the worst Katherine had ever seen him. He was still unbelievably handsome, of course, but he appeared so ragged and worn down – so frayed at his seams. The man was examining Katherine just as closely as she was him – his eyes zealously roving her form – and the brunette wondered vaguely how awful she must have looked if Bastian looked like this.