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And it’s cold.

So cold.

I shiver, my hands seeking my blanket. But it’s not there. Did I kick it off the bed? Tired, I try to roll over to the side of the mattress, but my body comes into contact with something both hard and soft.

I sigh in annoyance. I reach out with my hand, and when I grasp the obstacle, I realize I’m holding somebody’s knee.

My eyes open. For a moment, I feel dazed and disorientated. Where am I?

The ceiling is made of wood. Wooden logs.

My mouth is dry, parched almost. I try to turn my head and let out a pained groan. My head! What is with this splitting headache?

I make an attempt to sit up but fall right back down. Before my head can come into contact with the wooden floor, a firm hand stops my descent.

“Careful.”

That’s a man’s voice. I tilt my head back to look at its owner. He has long silver hair, amber eyes, and incredibly handsome features.

I know that face. The wolf shifter from the cell.

I swallow. “So, that all really happened, then.”

When I sit up this time, I move more gingerly, careful not to aggravate whatever injuries I may have. The shifter watches me carefully, not letting me go till I’m fully upright.

“Do we have any water?” I rasp, clutching my throat.

He gets to his feet and returns a moment later with a glass. I drain it and feel stark relief.

I take a moment to collect myself before venturing. “How long—”

“Three days,” he says quietly. “We should be out of danger here.”

My hand reaches out to grasp his sleeve, my eyes widening. “Are you telling me you ran for three days straight, without any rest?”

He studies me. “No, I ran for two nights and two days, and we’ve been here since then. We were nearly caught twice. I had to keep going.”

I try to say something, but I don’t know what I can say. He’s watching me, so I decide to do the same to him. He was naked the last time I saw him in his human form, but he seems to have found some clothes. He’s wearing a brown tunic and a pair of loose pants. And it’s obvious that he has showered.

“You don’t stink anymore,” I say without thinking.

His expression stiffens. “I usually prefer to maintain my hygiene, if I’m allowed.”

I feel a spasm of guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I have a problem with speaking before thinking. How long were you held prisoner at that place?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then he shakes his head. “I don’t remember. My memory is not all there.”

“I see.” My eyes dart around our new lodgings. “Where are we now?”

“A human hunting cabin. It is well stocked. We have enough food to last us a few days.”

“A few days? Are we going to stay here that long? Shouldn’t we keep moving?”

He gives me a long look. “You are in no condition to be constantly on the run. You have sustained a head injury. And we are in the midst of a thunderstorm. It has been raining for two days.”

I look down and realize that he must have changed my clothes. My lips part. “You undressed me?” For some reason, the thought is embarrassing.

“Your clothes were wet. You would have gotten sick if I hadn’t. Would you have preferred to wear your wet clothing?”