Page 27 of A Wolf’s Wound

Ryder

I can’t take it inside the apartment one more minute, or I’m going to pace a hole in the living room floor.

Quietly, I leave the apartment and take the stairs down.

The pub is less lively than usual, likely due to the number of dead bodies that have been found in the woods.

Inside, a local band is doing their best to liven up the small crowd, but it’s like a cloud of worry hangs over most of the town lately.

And it’s all my fault.

A stone bench sits empty along the sidewalk, and I sit down. This night, the music from the bar… I can remember everything that happened before in vivid flashes. The taste of whiskey on my tongue and then the taste of blood.

“Ryder! Beer’s on me, man!”

Marcus Lottman, a guy I’ve only ever hung out with when I’m plastered, grins at me. The grin doesn’t fade as I beg off, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s him.

Is this the man I bit? The life I ruined?

Or is it that man walking down the street? Someone in one of the cars passing by?

The drum of my heartbeat in my ears drowns out the noise of the traffic and the band, and my entire body has gone cold.

Whoever I bit, they’re targeting me.

And they’re targeting Hannah because of me—not only because of what I’ve done but because of what she means to me.

I need to get her out of town. She’s as likely to come willingly as she is to shave off all of her hair and dye her eyebrows purple, but I’ll have to convince her somehow. It’s my fault she’s in danger.

Not that she’ll see it that way, of course. There has to be a way of explaining this to her without making her think I’m trying to control her life or ordering her around.

If I could just remember who the man is, all of this would become so much simpler.

But all I remember is whiskey and blood, which is how most of my nights ended.

There have been way too many whiskey-fueled bar fights in my recent past, despite Gavin’s disapproval.

Did I bite someone in a fight and forget about the next day?

“Please!”

That’s all I remember. A man’s voice, shredded and begging. Probably asking me to stop, begging for his life…

And then I remember laughter. Was it mine? What kind of monster am I?

Fuck. I can’t even imagine how Gavin’s going to take this when I have to tell him what I’ve done. I couldn’t even look at him when he dropped Hannah off.

“What a freaking mess,” I mutter into the hands covering my face.

I hear a chittering sound of agreement next to me. Out of the corner of my eye, there’s Shadow.

“How the hell did you get out here?”

Shadow looks haughty as he wiggles his thumbs at me. For a moment I think he might have understood what I just said, but then I realize he’s wiggling his feet too. He rolls onto his back and stretches his limbs toward the cloudy night sky.

“And now I’m talking to a raccoon.” I stretch my long legs toward the street. “Pretty sure this is the definition of rock bottom.”

If Shadow is offended by this, he doesn’t show it. He just lies beside me on the bench and placidly stares at the sky. We sit together until my heart rate slows down and the shock of what I’ve done wears off, which is long after the pub closes.

The shock fades, but the guilt remains. When I stand to go inside, my legs feel like they’re made of lead. Shadow follows me in, racing up the stairs as fast as he can and then gloating at my slower gait.

“Laugh it up, trash panda. If I were in wolf form, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

He yawns, as if he’s mocking me, but he matches my slow pace toward the apartment door.

The door is locked, which raises the question of how he sauntered outside, but a slightly open window in the kitchen gives him away. I shut it and lock it for good measure before doing the same to all the windows in the house, except for April’s room.

Hannah’s two stories up, but it helps settle my nerves. Between the locks and my heightened senses, she’ll be well-protected for tonight.

And tomorrow I’ll try to convince her to lay low until I manage to fix my mistake. I don’t know how well she’ll take the news that I’m responsible, but I probably should have thought about that before I went biting strangers and turning them into shifters.

I hadn’t even met her yet, and I’d already ruined things for the both of us. Fucking fantastic luck there, Ryder.

I watched that man, broken and agonized in the forest. I wondered who the hell could do something like that to someone else. How many times have I convinced myself that it couldn’t be someone in my pack because we all knew what a failed shift would cost?

I don’t know what to do with the knowledge that it’s me. If there’s an unhinged shifter out there, it’s all because of me. Learning to shift takes the guidance of an entire community, and I just, what? Bit him and left him to figure all this out on his own?

Of course Hannah’s going to be disgusted. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror right now.

I step into her room slowly, feeling nervous. I’m only there to lock the window, but it feels… forbidden, almost, to be in her room while she’s sleeping. I can’t help but sneak a look at her as she sleeps.

Her light brown hair is splayed across her pillow, and the scent of vanilla and citrus—her scent—beckons me closer.

Hastily, I leave her room and settle myself on the couch.

I don’t remember falling asleep. One moment, I’m staring at the ceiling, grappling with my shitty life choices.

The next, a raccoon is curled on top of my head, snoring away, and the sun is blasting me directly in the face from the eastern window.

“Rude,” I tell him. His fur muffles my voice, and he protests when I shove him off to the side of the couch.

Blech. I smell like raccoon.

At least Hannah’s sleeping in. It gives me time to wash my face clean of raccoon musk and fry up a few eggs while I think of the best way to convince her to leave town. Scaring her won’t work. Demanding definitely won’t.

I haven’t ruled out begging yet when Shadow approaches me. He’s clearly agitated, slamming cabinet doors open and shut.

“Hey, you’re gonna wake her up!”

He slams them harder, loudly enough to make the apartment next door bang on their wall, shouting at us to shut up.

But not loudly enough to rouse Hannah.

Dread curls in my stomach, cold and heavy. Logic finally chases it away. All the windows were locked last night. I would have sensed if anything was wrong.

Wouldn’t I?

“Hannah?” I call out. “There’s breakfast if you want it.”

No answer.

A plate clatters in the kitchen. Shadow’s munching all the eggs I made.

“Well, there was breakfast for a minute there, but your raccoon stole it.”

She could just be ignoring me, or taking a shower. When I knock on her door, she doesn’t answer.

“I’m coming in.”

I turn the doorknob easily. It’s unlocked. When I look inside, there’s nothing but a freshly made bed.

I spent all morning working on a speech to convince her to leave, but she’s already gone.