Chapter 9

Chapter

Nine

Lana

T he air turned cold and strange as Destin growled and released the door handle.

"What is it?" I reached for the dagger.

Destin stormed across the room and looked out the window. I followed, standing next to him. The night was a blanket of black, with the moon obscured behind the trees, but three dark silhouettes cut through the sky, their wings beating a thrumming rhythm that I felt deep in my chest.

"What the—?" Those were too big to be ravens or even eagles. My mind spun, searching for any kind of explanation.

Dark creatures. The last time I'd felt air like this had been the attack on Black Lake. I was only ten years old?—

Glass shattered, and Destin rolled his body between me and the window. "Get down!" he growled, but I was sure as hell not going to hide while he fought off whatever was coming at us.

Destin spun as one of the dark creatures dove through the window, its talons outstretched. The other two were quick to follow and aimed at me. I crouched, ready to meet them, but those black wings were faster than I anticipated. A flash of movement from the corner of my eye, and I saw Destin grappling with the first bird, its talons raking at his face.

I growled, trying to focus. The dagger was in my hand, and suddenly, the pieces snapped into place. They knew it was there. Why else would they be attacking a random hostel in the middle of the woods? We were far from pack protection, and I had one of the most powerful items in the history of our world.

Stupid.

"Shrikes!" Destin growled.

That was what these were. Creatures from the legends we were told as kids. They existed?

I slashed at the closest one, but it swerved, its wings brushing past my cheeks. The other one darted in from the side, its beak aiming for my neck. I lowered my head, and it missed by a hair, its talons raking across my shoulder instead. Pain seared through my flesh, but I didn't have time to think about it.

Shadows obscured the light from the lantern. All I could hear was shrieking and the beat of feathers. I needed to shift. I should?—

Sharp pain lanced across my arm, and I whirled, stabbing the blade through the air.

"I said, get down!" Destin shouted again, and I listened, but only for a second. My eyes adjusted, and I caught one of the shrikes off guard. It screeched, feathers flying, but the second one took advantage of my distraction. Its talons hooked into my side, and searing pain flashed through me as they dug deep.

I cried out, my vision blurring. I tried to shift, to force the transformation, but the blood was already pooling too fast. I couldn't focus. I couldn't breathe.

I staggered back, my legs trembling. I had to protect the dagger. I had to?—

My limbs gave out, and I collapsed onto the sagging wooden floor. The world spun, and I fought to keep my eyes open, to stay conscious. Blood poured from my wounds, pooling around me, soaking my skin.

I heard a snarl, low and guttural, and my heart stuttered in my chest. Destin. He transformed through the haze, his muscles rippling and skin tearing. His fur was dark as midnight, his eyes glowing with a feral light.

He launched himself at the shrikes, his jaws snapping shut on one of their wings. Feathers exploded into the air, dark and shimmering in the moonlight. The shrike screeched, but it was cut off as Destin's teeth tore through its flesh, ripping it apart.

Blood sprayed, and I flinched as the droplets hit my skin, hot and sticky. The second shrike tried to flee, but Destin was faster. He lunged, his massive paws slamming into the bird's back, forcing it to the ground. His claws raked through its feathers, and with a final, bone-chilling snarl, he crushed its skull between his jaws.

The room fell silent. Destin stood over the mangled bodies, his chest heaving with exertion, his fur matted with blood. He shifted back to his human form without hesitation, his clothes shredded, all of him exposed. He didn't care. He didn't take the time to find something to cover himself. He dropped to his knees next to me, his hands immediately going to my middle. I felt pressure, then a searing heat as he pressed his palm to my skin. I tried to focus on his face, on the dark intensity of his eyes.

My vision tunneled, and the last thing I saw was the dark moon rising higher in the sky behind him through the shattered window. My body was numb, my mind foggy. I felt a warmth spreading from his touch, but I was bleeding too much, too fast.

Darkness closed in, and I fought against it, but my body was too weak. What had I told him? That he wasn't responsible for me? "Destin, I'm sorry?—"

"Shut your mouth, Lana. Just close your eyes and breathe."

I woke, and my mouth felt like it had been swabbed with cotton balls. I blinked, taking stock of the darkness around me. It was still night. A low fire crackled next to me, sending sparks up into the air.

My midsection ached, but the pain was a dull throb compared to the searing agony I'd felt before. I adjusted my position on the floor, and that's when I noticed my shirt was gone. In its place, clean fabric was wrapped around me just beneath my bra, snug against my skin. It smelled like the forest, like leather, like?—

"Destin?" My voice was a whisper, and I turned my head to see him sitting near the fire, his eyes reflecting the flames.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "How are you feeling?"

I took a deep breath, wincing as my ribs protested. "Better than I should be."

Destin watched me, his eyes dark. "You were out for less than an hour. I wrapped your wound as best I could, but you were losing too much blood."

I nodded, my mind racing. The shrikes. Dark creatures. We hadn't seen any of them in over ten years. That was what our packs were for. To protect humans from their world being invaded by the darkness, but our packs hadn't heard a peep. Not a whisper.

I ran my fingers over the bandage and realized it was a shirt. A shirt that wasn't mine. I gripped the hem and tried to peel it up to see my wound.

"Don't." His voice was firm but not harsh. "It's still healing."

I frowned and was about to protest when I remembered the dagger. My heart skipped a beat, and I reached instinctively for my belt. It wasn't there.

My breath caught in my throat, and I sat up too quickly, the world tilting around me. "Where is it?" My voice was panicked, my vision narrowing.

Destin held up a hand, and I saw the glint of the dagger. My pulse pounded as he extended it to me. I snatched it from him and pressed it against my chest. "You?—"

"It was covered in your blood." He motioned to the floor, and I saw my belt, the leather soaked through. Along with my pants and?—

"Did you undress me?"

His brow furrowed. "I cleaned you up."

I bristled and looked down, finally taking stock of my state of undress. My heart skipped. I was in my underwear, and that was not the underwear I'd put on that morning. It was clean.

My mind whirled. Had he seen everything? Yes, he was saving my life, but still. My cheeks flamed, and I crossed my arms over my middle, even though I was covered by his damn shirt. "You could've waited until I woke up."

Destin scoffed. "Wait for you to freeze? Sure, that sounds like a great plan."

I glared at him. He leaned back, his expression unreadable. "I did what needed to be done. You were hurt, and I helped you. That's it."

I swallowed my pride. He was right. He'd taken care of me when I couldn't, and here I was snapping at him. "I'm sorry. Thank you."

Destin stared at the fire, and I found myself staring at the way the flickering light danced over his skin. He had a new shirt on. New pants. I pursed my lips at the brief flashes of him hovering over me after he'd shifted back.

I'd grown up with too many stories of men trying to take advantage of women in their vulnerable states. My mother had drilled it into me—never let your guard down. I remembered the first time I'd gone to a bar with a couple of friends from high school. I'd been wearing a tank top and shorts, nothing scandalous, but enough to get attention. A man from town had made a move, tried to pull me onto his lap. I'd put him in the hospital.

"I don't like not knowing what happened," I whispered.

Destin turned his head. "If you think I'd do anything to hurt another wolf, you haven't been paying attention." He stood and walked back to his pack, then laid out his bed roll next to the fire. Far from the pool of my blood, still sticky on the floor. He laid out mine next to it, then took my blanket from the corner and tossed it over. He stood and rolled out his neck.

I scanned the room, noting that the only thing left of the shrikes were a few black feathers. There were already branches held in place over the broken window. "They wanted the dagger. I'm sure of it." That was the only thing that made sense. There was no reason for us to be a target.

Except for my blood.

Except for the relic.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Will we be safe here?"

Destin grunted as he lay down on his mat. He didn't have the answer. I shouldn't have even asked.

I woke with a start, blinking. The fire had burned down to glowing embers, casting faint shadows on the tent walls. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was or why I was there. Then the memory of the night shrikes and the searing pain in my abdomen crashed over me.

I reached down and pulled up Destin's shirt to inspect the wound, expecting to find a gaping, bloody mess. Instead, I found smooth, unbroken skin. My breath caught in my throat. I'd felt the talons, the warmth of my blood spilling out of me.

I should've died.

It wasn't a dramatic statement. It was fact. Even with my shifter abilities, there was no way I should've healed that fast. I traced my fingers over where the wound had been, feeling the faint ridge of newly formed skin. It was still tender, and I winced as I pressed down.

There was a rustling outside, then the door to the hostel opened. Destin ducked inside, carrying something in his hands. He crouched next to me, and I caught a whiff of something earthy and herbal.

"Eat." He handed me a plate with some kind of meat and a bowl of steaming liquid that looked like pine needles had been boiled in water and then strained through someone's dirty socks.

I stared at it, then back at him. "What is this?"

"Food." He sat across from me, his eyes dark in the low light. The morning air clung to him.

I raised an eyebrow. "I can see that, but what's in it?"

Destin shrugged. "Meat and broth. It's good for you."

I hesitated, then took a tentative sip of the broth. It was surprisingly warm and soothing as it slid down my throat, spreading a gentle heat through my chest. The taste was strange, not unpleasant, but definitely something I wasn't used to. I took another sip, then a third, and before I knew it, the bowl was empty.

Destin watched, then reached out and took the bowl from my hands. He handed me the plate of meat. I tore into it, my hunger suddenly overwhelming.

Halfway through my meal, I got up and walked to my pack. I set the plate down and pulled out my phone. It was holding a charge, and I actually had a couple of bars of service. I tapped out a text to our group.

Hey. We're on our way to the site. Just wanted to let you know I'm not dead.

Callista:

Not dead, either. Almost back to Black Lake.

That meant they'd driven through the night again.

Kael:

Send us information when you get there.

Will do. Keep me posted on Rowan and Evelyn.

I put my phone away and looked up at Destin. He'd been silent, watching me with those intense eyes. I reached down to the plate and ate the last bite of meat. "Thank you for this."

He nodded once. "Time to go."