Page 22 of Lone Wolf’s Claim (The Kincaid Werewolves #1)

H eather, still in a barely half-conscious state, tried to discern what the hell it was she was hearing.

There was a deep rumbling in her ear that didn’t coincide with her body being rocked to and fro like a swing.

No, not a swing, more like a hammock. A hammock made of the never-ending fog that she'd been stuck in for the past few days.

She tried to stretch her stiff bones, and that was when she felt the rigid bands of muscle under her back and knees.

Brock?

As she struggled to open her eyes, she became aware that she was being cradled against a warm, hard chest. Her left arm was bent at the elbow and tied tight to her side, and the sounds she was hearing was Brock's voice under her ear as he grumbled with frustration.

"Fookin' trees. If I dinna see one more fookin' tree in me life, I willna care!"

The brogue was out in full force. This couldn't bode well.

“And ghosts? O’ all th’ things? Are you fookin’ kidding me?” He blew out an unsteady breath and mumbled, “Just a dream. Just a fookin’ dream.”

Curious as to what she’d missed, Heather finally managed to crack one eye open, then groaned as even the dim daylight caused her head to ache like someone was jackhammering at her brain.

"Sunshine?"

She groaned again, "Shhh. Put me down, Brock. You're going to hurt yourself."

The motion stopped and she was pulled in closer, her face tucked between his head and shoulder as he hugged her tight.

"Ah, sunshine. Thank th' gods yer awake. I was starting tae get worried."

His long hair tickled her nose and she tried to push away from him with her free arm, but he just held her tighter. Her ribs ached and her stomach rolled unpleasantly. "Please, put me down!" she rasped.

The desperation in her voice must have finally gotten through to him, for he carefully set her on her feet, then helped her down to the damp ground when her legs didn't seem to want to hold her.

She leaned forward and closed her eyes, fighting down the nausea.

She felt like she'd been hit by a train.

"Your bones seem tae be just aboot healed. I had tae set a few of them. I hope I didn't hurt you more than necessary. I tried tae be quick aboot it."

Still hunched over, she reached out blindly for his hand. When she found him, she squeezed his fingers. "Thank you. I'll be okay. Just give me a minute."

Once the sick feeling had passed, she eased herself up into a sitting position to find Brock's bright blue eyes trained anxiously on her face. She offered him a weak smile. "You'd think us Faeries would be a little more waterproof."

"I don't think it was floating in the water that did you in, so much as the fall at the end of it."

Ah, good. He was calming down. She stretched her legs out in front of her and winced. Rubbing her healing calf, which was wrapped up in a makeshift splint, she looked around. "Where are we?"

Brock brushed away some pine needles with his foot and lowered himself down to the ground next to her.

Pushing her hand away, he took over massaging her leg.

"I think we're getting close to where I 'dropped' in.

The water's receded quite a bit and I've been following the stream, which is now less like the Amazon and more like the Mississippi.

I, uh, crossed at a shallow part to get us back on the right side of it, and I found one of my markers right before you woke up.

I just don't know which one it is as it's the only one I've found, and the landscape, such as it is, is different now after all the flooding. "

"How long have you been carrying me?" she asked.

He shrugged. "About twenty-six hours is my best guess."

She stared at him in mute horror. How were his arms anything but limp noodles by now? When she could speak again, she asked, "Why not just camp out somewhere until I woke up? We still have a couple of days until our time is up."

He glanced down at her and clenched his jaw. "I'm ready to get out of here."

And away from her.

The words he didn’t need to say bounced around her head. Her throat closed on a wave of sadness and all she could do was nod her agreement. But she didn’t agree, not really. Not at all.

His hands stilled on her sore leg and he frowned with confusion when he saw the look on her face, then his eyes cleared as understanding dawned on him.

He scooted over closer to her and tipped her face up to his with a finger under her chin.

"I said I was ready to get out of this place, not away from you.

" His steady gaze bore into her own tear-filled one.

She turned her face away from him, not wanting him to see how much the thought of never seeing him again affected her. "That's kind of a done deal. Once we leave here, it'll be back to the real world for us. I'll go back to my people, and you'll go back to yours."

"No." His tone was firm.

Closing her eyes, she fought down the sliver of hope that was trying to work its way up into her heart. He'd only said 'no'. She didn't know what he was saying ‘no’ about. He could just mean that he wasn't going back to his people. It could have nothing to do with her.

Pulling her face back around and holding it there this time, he waited until he had her undivided attention. "I'm not losing you," he told her with his heart in his eyes. “I won’t.”

Okay. Maybe she could let herself feel a little bit of hope.

"But there are things you need to know about me, before I can ask you to give up everything to be with me."

"Things like what?" she asked.

Leaning back, he took a deep breath and looked around. "That’s a long story to tell. Maybe we should keep walking…"

"Brock. What things?" She wasn't about to let him drop something like that and then expect her to just forget about it until later. "What things?" she insisted.

He pushed his hair back off of his face, gathering it together at his nape and letting it go again. Rubbing his palms on his thighs, he peeked over at her.

Heather waited for him to get his thoughts together, her stomach in knots again. Whatever he was about to tell her, it couldn't be as bad as her not telling him what she was.

Could it?

He cleared his throat. "Heather, I'm a lone wolf, a siubhal ." When she showed a lack of comprehension, he clarified, "I'm a wolf without a pack, because I was kicked out of the one I was in."

From the gravity in his voice, that must be serious indeed. She asked the obvious question. "Why?"

"Because I was accused of breaking one of the pack laws."

"What law?"

His jaw set in a stubborn line and he looked away.

Even not knowing what law he had broken, she had to ask, "Did you do it?"

He wrapped his arms around his knees and looked away. "I didn't deny it."

Something about his posture had her asking again, "But did you do it?"

This time, he looked straight at her. "I confessed."

"Oh." Somehow, Brock didn't strike her as a lawbreaker, be it pack law or made up rules in a Fae prince’s game. But he’d confessed. He’d just said so himself.

"There's more," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "Once you’ve been kicked out of the pack, you’re banned from ever returning anywhere near their territory, if you manage to survive the judgment against you.”

"What do you mean? Survive?" Heather was having a hard time swallowing all of this.

"It’s the way it is," he said without a trace of anger toward those who had done it to him.

"I'm lucky I made it out of there alive.

The rest of the pack beat me near to death, as is the custom, when our pack leader announced his decision.

They left me where I fell. I honestly don't know how I survived.

Most don't, and find it preferable to living with the shame of being exiled from your pack. "

His eyes, which had taken on a far away look, snapped back to her. "I hold no anger toward them for what they did. My old pack master was good to me. He took me and my friend in when we were young and stupid and alone. Anyway, I thought you should know that about me before I ask you."

Heather's mind was still reeling. He’d been beaten? Had almost died? How had he managed to live through something like that? "Ask me what?" she wondered distractedly.

"I want to ask you to stay with me. After we get out of here. I want you to stay with me."

"Fae and shifters can't mate," she mumbled automatically, her mind still on everything he'd just told her.

Reaching for her hand, he clasped it between both of his larger ones.

"I know they don't. And I know what I'm asking of you by even suggesting this.

We'll both be outcasts, unable to ever be with our people.

I'm used to that, and maybe it's not fair of me to ask you to join me in my exile, but… " He paused, playing with her fingers.

"But what?"

He sat up straighter, and gathered his courage. "I've always been fine being alone. I was alone for a long time before I found my pack, and I've been alone again for a few years now. But since I met you, I…you fill a hole in me that I didn't know was there."

He seemed to stop breathing as he waited for her reaction. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I fill a hole?"

He blew out a frustrated breath and she bit back a smile. She could make it easy for him, and tell him that she couldn't give two shits about her so-called "people", other than her parents. But that would ruin all of her fun. And she was thoroughly enjoying watching him squirm.

Besides, there was still the matter of the law he'd broken. And what that would mean for them. Would there be more repercussions later? Was he just using her as a replacement for his lack of pack mates?

Logically, she knew this was a horrible idea. But how often does a girl come across a male like him? And have him actually want to stick around?

"Sunshine…” The pained vulnerability in his voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“I need you, so verra much. I haven't been able tae get you out of my head since the day I first saw you.

I know I dinna deserve you, but I'm asking here.

I'm asking you tae please think aboot staying with me.

Now that I know you, now that I've had you, I dinna know how I ever lived without you.

" He held her eyes with his, and his shone with all of the feelings he was trying so hard to say.

“I will protect you with my last breath from any who would dae you harm. I swear it.”

Well, now, how the hell was she supposed to say no to that speech? Said with that sexy accent no less? No matter what he'd done or hadn't done in the past, she knew this male that was here before her now. Her body knew him. Her heart knew him.

"If you're planning on sweeping me off of my feet and taking me away to your castle to ravish me at your whim, you'd best get us the hell out of here first." She smiled at the shocked disbelief on his face.

“Is that a yes?” he asked with cautious hope forming in his beautiful eyes.

“That’s a yes,” she confirmed.

A roguish grin lit up his handsome features. "Ah, sunshine, if you weren't so black and blue, I would ravish you right now."

"I heal quite fast," she breathed, her body responding to the heat coming off of him.

But he laughed and shook his head. "Let's get home. Where we can shower and fill our bellies, and I can make love to you properly. In a bed. Without worrying about strange monsters or being boiled alive or…"

“Or what?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

She tried not to pout as he got to his feet and helped her up. Bending over, he scooped her up into his arms again.

"I think I can walk," she told him, worried about the condition of his back after hauling her around for so long.

Kissing her on the temple, he just said, "Aye. I know you can. But I want to hold you."

And well, who could argue with that?