Chapter 16
777words
Between them, Ivan, Damon, and Mason make short work of the second rogue. When it's over, Ivan shifts back to human form with fluid grace, seemingly unconcerned with his nudity as he kneels to check on Damon, who remains in wolf form, bleeding from his reopened shoulder wound.
"Get him to the infirmary," Ivan orders Mason, who has also shifted back. "And find him some clothes."
Mason nods, helping the injured Damon down the hall.
And then Ivan turns to me, his silver eyes blazing with an emotion I can't quite name. In three long strides, he's before me, his hands cupping my face with surprising gentleness.
"Are you hurt?" he demands, his eyes scanning me for injuries.
I shake my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. This close, his scent envelops me—thunderstorm and forest, now mixed with the metallic tang of blood and the musk of his wolf. My own wolf whines with need, desperate to comfort our mate after battle.
"You could have been killed," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "What were you thinking, coming here alone?"
"I wanted to help," I whisper. "I didn't know—"
My words are cut off as Ivan pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me with careful strength. I should resist. I should pull away. Instead, I find myself melting into his embrace, my face pressed against his bare skin, his heartbeat strong and steady under my ear.
"I thought I was going to lose you," he murmurs into my hair. "When I saw that wolf lunging for you..."
A shudder runs through his powerful frame, and instinctively, I tighten my arms around him. "I'm okay," I assure him. "Thanks to you."
We stand like that for long moments, the chaos of the attack fading into the background as something more fundamental takes precedence—the simple fact of our survival, of being in each other's arms.
It's Ivan who finally pulls back, though his hands remain on my shoulders as if he can't quite bring himself to break contact completely. "We need to get you somewhere safe," he says. "The attack seems to be contained, but I'm not taking any chances."
As if remembering his state of undress, he glances down with a rueful smile. "Though perhaps I should find some clothes first."
A blush heats my cheeks as I become acutely aware of his nakedness. My wolf, however, is thoroughly appreciative of the view—all hard muscle and smooth skin, marred only by the bandages around his torso that are now spotted with fresh blood.
"You're bleeding," I say, my healer's instincts kicking in. "Your stitches must have torn during the shift."
"It's nothing," he dismisses. "Others are hurt worse."
"It's not nothing," I insist, finding my voice. "You're the Alpha. Your pack needs you healthy."
Something flickers in his silver eyes—surprise, perhaps, at my challenge, or approval of it. "Very well, healer. After I ensure the perimeter is secure, you can check my wounds."
A young wolf appears with clothes for Ivan, and I avert my eyes as he dresses quickly.
"Stay here," he orders once he's clothed. "I'll send someone to guard you until I return."
I nod, suddenly exhausted as the adrenaline begins to fade. "Be careful," I say before I can stop myself.
Ivan pauses, his expression softening for just a moment. "Always," he promises.
As he strides away to coordinate the defense of his territory, I sink down onto a nearby bench, my legs suddenly too weak to support me. The reality of what just happened—how close I came to death, how fiercely Ivan fought to protect me—settles over me like a heavy blanket.
My wolf is restless but no longer sullen, energized by our mate's presence and protection. For the first time since discovering our bond, she and I are in agreement about one thing: Ivan deserves the truth. All of it.
If we survive this attack, I will tell him about the curse. I will let him decide for himself if I'm worth the risk.
Because watching him fight for me, feeling his arms around me, sensing his relief at my safety—I'm beginning to wonder if some things are worth the pain they might bring.
Maybe a decade of happiness with Ivan would be better than a lifetime of emptiness without him.
