Chapter 39

Sam

I was woozy from the pain in my arm and possibly blood loss. My body was healing, but it was a fairly deep gash and needed some professional attention.

"Sam, you need to get your arm looked at now," Cade pressed. I could feel his fear and guilt that he hadn't caught the perpetrator.

I closed my eyes a second and tried to think past the slamming of my heart and the throbbing in my arm.

"Okay. Someone hand me a phone. Mine is in my left pocket, and I can't get to it."

Megan whipped her phone out. "911?" she questioned.

I shook my head and gritted my teeth as the movement pulled at the torn muscles down my bicep. "No. I don't want this going any further than the three of us for as long as possible."

"What are you thinking?" Cade asked.

My brain was spinning ninety miles an hour going through scenarios and calculations of the best course of action. "Later. Arm first. Meg, dial for me. Hold it up for me and put it on speaker. I'm all bloody." I rattled off Kyp's number to her and was thankful he picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?" the speaker voice was tinny and muffled with the noise inside the building.

"Kyp. It's Sam. I need a favor."

"Sam? What's wrong? You sound…off."

"Yeah. Is your mom working the festival shift right now?"

"She should be. Is someone hurt?"

"Yes. Please call her and have her bring her med kit to the back entrance of the building. Cade will meet her there and tell her where to go. Tell her to hurry and come alone, and don't say anything to anyone else. Tell Rachel that I got sick, and Megan is taking me home early, and that she'll call her later. Consider this your first pack test. Got it?"

"Got it. Human injury?"

"Wolf," I croaked.

"Dialing now." He hung up, and my head fell back against the headrest again.

"Cade, I want you to go wait by the entrance. When Jennifer gets there, bring her here, but do a sweep to check for anything out of the ordinary. If anything is even remotely off, even if it's someone from our own pack, abort. Take her back into the building."

Two sharp intakes of breath met my words.

"Sam, what do you mean?" Cade's voice was steely.

"I have to be sure," I murmured. I was so tired.

"Sure of what?" Megan's strangled whisper broke the shroud of silence in the car.

"Sure that you're safe."

Cade cursed under his breath. "I think that's her. Hang on, Sam. Don't pass out."

"I'm hanging." I flexed my arm, and a wave of fresh pain and nausea traveled through my system, the pain sharpening my senses again, keeping me alert.

"Sam," Meg whispered again. I knew she was battling shock, but she was holding it together. She rested her hand on my thigh.

My heart was still slamming in my chest. That arrow had been meant for Megan. Two attempts on her life. My brain twisted through the fog of blood loss and adrenaline to snatches of conversations. If Megan stayed human. If she stayed wolf. Her blood didn't carry the Alpha gene. If she were dead, the impediment she brought to me, and therefore the pack, would be gone.

No. I couldn't—wouldn't—think it. But it was there. The suspicion had taken root. Could my own father be capable of murder?

****

Five agonizing minutes later, Cade and Jennifer Kypson were outside the door of my car.

"Keep watch." I ground out the words with a nod of thanks at Cade. Jennifer got out a flashlight and knelt at once to better examine my arm.

"Sam, this is a doozie." Her face impassive, she fished something out of the bag slung over her shoulder with one hand and opened her med kit with the other. "Here. Eat this. It's a special blend of things that I make up for Kyp to help speed up the healing process and dull the pain. Wolf-friendly." I bit down on the proffered food. It tasted like chewy oats and had a distinct bitter edge to it that I identified as willow bark. "Hi, I'm Jennifer, Kyp's mom. What's your name?" she asked Megan.

"Megan," came the strangled reply.

"All right. Megan, I'm going to need your help. Can you come over here and hold this flashlight up?"

"Of course." Meg got stiffly out of the car and obediently held the flashlight as Jennifer cut the rest of my sleeve off.

"Right," Jennifer said calmly. "Let me get this cleaned off, and we'll check out the damage." She worked quickly with a bottle of water, gauze, and iodine. "Well, your deep tissues are already starting to knit themselves back together, but I think we had better stitch this up to give it a little nudge." She spoke soothingly, and her voice and assurance calmed some of the storm raging in my chest. The willow bark started to take the edge off the sharpest of the pain and allowed me to breathe easier.

Jennifer made quick work getting the sutures ready. The needle bit my flesh, and I flinched. Megan moaned.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I can't watch that!" The flashlight quivered as she turned her head away. "Move my hand where you need the light."

"Megan, are you good?" Jennifer asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Fine. Just keeping my eyes shut."

The stitches didn't take long, and Jennifer covered them with antibiotic ointment and gauze and taped it in place.

"Try to avoid getting it wet if you can tonight and tomorrow. Tape a plastic bag over it in the shower. At the rate you're healing, I'm guessing you'll be tender for a few days but probably mostly healed up by the morning." She hesitated. "I'm not trying to cause problems, but is there anyone else we should tell about this?" She bit her lip and fear radiated in her eyes for having spoken, and I briefly wondered what her life had been like with the Kentucky pack.

"Not at this point. Thank you, Jennifer. I won't forget this."

She nodded, relieved. "Will you be coming back to HarvestFest tomorrow?"

I glanced at Megan.

"If you think you can, I think we need to act like everything is as normal as possible. Are you up to coming tomorrow?"

"If you'll be coming with me." My heart warmed at her confidence in me, though I was still terrified for her safety. There were too many unanswered questions. But until I had answers, I didn't want anyone getting spooked.

"I'm on duty for the morning shift. Either come find me or let me know, and I'll come to you. I want to check those stitches tomorrow."

"We can do that. Thanks again. Really."

Jennifer nodded as she put the last of her supplies back into her kit. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"What's the plan now, Sam?" Cade asked, his back to me, his eyes still scanning the surrounding area.

I sighed. Megan crouched beside me, taking my bloodied hand in hers. "Megan, are you okay to drive us back to the cabin?"

"Yes. I've had a few years scared off my life, but I think I'm okay to drive."

"Cade, can you go back in, support the story that I'm violently ill from some festival food—obviously nothing from our favorite bakers"—I attempted to crack a joke—"but act normal. Keep your ears open."

"All right. Stay safe. Meet at your place in the morning to drive down, or meet here?"

"We'll meet you here," Megan cut in. "That's what we would have done. If you want things to be as normal as possible, that's what we should do."

"Megan's right. We'll meet you here at seven thirty. Keep your guard up."

Cade's dark hair flopped over his forehead as he nodded, the seriousness of the situation not lost.

****

The ride home was tense. I kept looking in the mirrors every few minutes to be sure we weren't being followed.

"What were the rumors from up north?" Megan asked as she pulled out of town and onto the road that would take us to the forest and the cabin.

"There's been talk of a sort of wolf rebellion."

"Rebellion? Against what?"

"Essentially against our long-held traditions and rules. Austin Thornehill said he'd heard rumors—only rumors—that there are some wolves that want to overthrow the humans. Rewrite history and set werewolves up as some sort of demigods or something."

Megan was quiet a minute.

"Could…could that actually happen?"

"No. We won't allow it."

"But, theoretically, if enough wolves got together and tried, could it happen?"

"It would take some serious masterminding. The human population has always far outnumbered the werewolf population, but fear is a powerful weapon. With wolves placed at the right spots, there could be some sort of overthrow attempt, though I doubt it would get far. The real damage would be the fear, distrust, and absolute chaos it would leave behind. Neighbor would turn on neighbor. There would be a hunt for wolves that would probably bring our populations dangerously low and cause the deaths of countless other innocents." I shuddered. Too much death and near death tonight. We rode in silence, each lost in thought, processing.

"You know, I…I'd probably be dead if it weren't for you tonight." Tears rimmed her eyes. She glanced over at me as she parked the car in front of the cabin. The porch light shined merrily in its spot, unconcerned, and untouched with the heaviness of the night.

"Megan." My heart clenched all over again. I'd die for you, rather than live without you. The words echoed in my head but wouldn't exit my mouth.

"I don't know what to say. Thank you is so inadequate. My brain is all mush trying to make sense of it. I can't understand the why? Why is someone trying to kill me?"

"I don't know," I answered, suspicion clouding my thoughts. "Let's go inside so I can hug you properly and get this shirt off. The blood is drying all stiff against my side. Let me get out first and be sure no one else is around though."

She bit her lip but did as I asked.

****

I rolled over again for the fourteenth time, trying to get comfortable. I couldn't help it. Every time I tried to close my eyes, that arrow imbedded in Megan's heart instead of the ground. My brain knew that Megan was safe. She was fine, sleeping in the bed across the room from me. But that wasn't enough to fully convince me.

She sighed into the dark room, and I knew I needed to see her—check on her again before having any remote possibility of falling to sleep.

The bed springs bunched. Their metallic noise was muffled by the layers of blankets as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed.

My bare feet made no noise as I padded over to Meg's bed. To my surprise, I could make out little glints of light reflecting in her eyes. She was awake.

"Sam?" she said sleepily. My heart lurched, and my throat constricted.

"I—" How did I tell her what I really meant? "Can I hold you?" The broken whisper struggled past my lips. I brought my hands up in surrender, wincing as it tugged my bicep painfully. "I swear I won't try anything. I just…need to be close to you for a little bit. I'll get up when I get sleepy. No sharing the bed all night."

I ached with the need to physically be near her, to assure myself that she was here, that she was all right.

She didn't say a word, simply pulled back the blankets beside her in invitation. Breath left my lungs in a whoosh. I crawled over her quickly and settled, pulling the blanket back up over both of us. My body curled around her, pulling her as close to me as I could. My injured arm was on top, her shoulders snugged up next to me. I finally felt like I could breathe again with her body nestled against me.

We lay there for long minutes. Eventually, the heat from her body and the comfort of having her near started to make me drowsy. I knew I'd have to get up to keep my promise, but it was the last thing I wanted to do.

With significant effort, I shifted, pulling away to get up. Meg grasped my hand.

Stay.

Always, I replied in her mind. Knowing that I had been given an extraordinary gift, my body quickly found the right place again. Megan held my hand still, tucking it under her cheek. I dropped a kiss on the curve of her neck and buried my head into the pillow next to her hair. She wiggled back, fitting her body more securely next to mine. Her heartbeat thumped through her back against my chest, and the steady rise and fall of her breathing settled me. She squeezed my fingers lightly.

Maybe I wasn't the only one that needed holding.