Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

I was dreaming. I stood up, the cast and all the pain gone, but felt something staring at me. There, in the woods, was the wolf. It dropped its head, as if trying to show me it wasn’t a threat. It didn’t move away or try to get closer. It just stayed there.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

It didn’t move.

“Are you hurt? Did your pack leave you? Why do I keep dreaming of you?”

He looked to the side and then back at me. Then suddenly he darted away.

I woke up gasping and looking around for the wolf. He’d seemed so real. Kicks was gone, but he often woke earlier than me. He was probably just down at the stream. Plus the bike and our stuff was still here.

I had to pee. At least I could hobble along without Kicks staring at me painfully. That was when I realized my ankle no longer throbbed. I got to my feet, testing my weight on it.

Kicks emerged from the trees, his expression darkening when he saw me standing. “What are you doing? You’re not supposed to put weight on that.”

He hurried over, about to sweep me off my feet. I held him off with both hands. “Wait. There’s something different. I think it’s okay.”

“How is that possible? I thought she wasn’t going to heal you. Did she change her mind?”

“No. I don’t know why, but I can feel it. It’s okay.” I took a few steps, testing it under my full weight and still feeling normal. “I’m telling you, it feels different.”

Kicks was hovering, as if I were going to fall over at any moment.

I walked some more, circling our area. “It’s good. I don’t think I need the cast anymore. We need to find some tools to rip it off.”

“Are you sure?” Kicks’ eyes narrowed. “If it’s not, it might be tricky to find more supplies. You’re sure you want it off?”

“I don’t know what happened exactly, but I can feel it’s okay,” I replied, glancing down at the cast. “I want this thing off, like, now .”

He stared at me like I was crazy.

“I’m telling you, it’s better. And even if it’s not a hundred percent, if we get in a bad spot where I have to run, I’m going to be a hell of a lot better off with a leg at fifty percent and a sneaker than this cast.”

After a few seconds of looking undecided, he pointed to the downed tree. “Sit. I’ll get it off.”

“You brought a saw?” I asked, sitting with eagerness.

He smirked. “I don’t need one.”

Before I could ask what he meant, Kicks knelt beside me and leaned in close, his mouth grazing the top of the cast. There was a tearing sound as the material gave way. When he pulled back, I saw that the top had been partially ripped open.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“My canines can come out without shifting,” he replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

With a grunt, he gripped either side of the torn cast and began to tear it apart with his bare hands. The muscles in his arms flexed, his strength evident. It shouldn’t have been hot, but it was. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, how his arms flexed.

He glanced up, catching me. “Stop doing that,” he said.

“I don’t always have control of it, okay?” I shot back, a bit more defensively than I intended.

He kept his gaze down, as if he were avoiding eye contact. I definitely was, as I tried to stare over his shoulder while he finished.

As I did, I saw a flash of fur. Had it been a dream at all?

I breathed in deeply, seeing if I could catch its scent, but there was nothing.

Kicks looked up. “What’s wrong? Did you smell something?”

“Nothing. I just… I thought I saw a wolf in the woods.”

“No.” He breathed in deeply. “I don’t smell one, and there aren’t any wolves in this area.”

“I’m starting to think I’m imagining things from my dreams.”

“Why? You’re dreaming of wolves?”

“One wolf, many times. I keep seeing it in my dreams.”

“What happens in these dreams?”

“Nothing much. They’re just dreams. I see the wolf and that’s about it. Once Widow Herbert was there too, pointing it out, but like I said, it’s just dreams.”

“Shifters don’t believe dreams are just dreams. We believe that the dead come back to visit in dreams. I wouldn’t write it off so quickly.” There was a final tug on the cast. “There you go. It’s off.”

I knelt by the stream, relishing in the fact that I was minus one cast. I splashed my face, trying to get some of the grime from the trip off me.

When I sat back on my haunches, I froze. Death was here.

She appeared without warning, like she often did. Her form loomed over me, and I felt a shiver race down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold water.

Who healed you? she asked.

So it hadn’t been her. I hadn’t been sure. Had I done it myself somehow? Either way, she didn’t seem too happy about it.

I looked up at her. “I have no idea how it happened. I woke up and was fine. I thought maybe it had been you. Maybe the powers you gave me did it?”

Her head twisted at an unnatural angle, the movement so wrong that it made me nauseated just looking at her. It was like watching something from a nightmare, which was fitting when you thought about it. Her expressions were never quite human, always just off enough to remind me what she was—or wasn’t. But there was something in the way her brows pulled together, something almost—confused?

Had I stumped Death?

“Are you saying you don’t know either?” Oh, this was good. No, beyond good. It was gratifying to the depths of my bones. For once, she was on the back foot.

Just like that, she was gone. For the first time in days, I felt like laughing.