Sharon's Wolves (Wolf Masters Book 10) (2 page)

And they were several miles from the lodge. She would never be able to walk out of there.

“There’s a service road not far from here,” one of the men said as he pointed to the east. “It runs along this trail. Maybe we can catch someone heading down from the logging site to the north.”

“Good idea.” Griffen nodded at a group of men to one side, still gripping her leg tightly. “You three head for the road and try to flag someone down.” He angled his head toward the trail next to them. “Can someone grab my backpack and pull out some gauze and tape?”

Sharon swallowed even though her mouth was too dry. She watched the men run off toward the service road and bit the inside of her cheek. She needed to stay alert.

One man returned with the backpack and unzipped it hastily. He kept glancing at Sharon’s face, his eyes narrowed.
I must look horrible.

What she knew was she had to be white as a sheet. Her skin grew clammy. She recognized the first signs of shock and gritted her teeth to keep it at bay. It wasn’t blood loss that ruled her condition. It was the fact that she’d seen the gash.

“Rebecca’s at the lodge, Sharon. All we need to do is get you down there, and she can handle the rest.” Griffen held her leg with one hand and ripped a long section of tape with his teeth.

She nodded. That was good. Rebecca was a nurse. She could handle this.

“Eyes on me,” Griffen demanded.

She tried to focus on his face, but it was hard. “You’re going to be okay.”

She nodded.

When he finished wrapping her leg, he finally released her and turned to the men still standing on the trail. “You two go back the way we came. If you beat us to the lodge, send someone up that service road. Just in case no one comes by from the north.”

The remaining men nodded and took off at a run.

Sharon grabbed Griffen’s forearm. “I’m okay. It was just the blood.”

“I know.” He wiped a lock of hair from her face that had escaped her hair band. Without another word, he bent down and lifted her into his arms. She leaned against his bare chest as he turned and headed into the trees toward the service road.

She knew it wasn’t far. She’d heard several vehicles go by throughout the day. They had made her cringe every time. Hikers didn’t like to hear cars and trucks interfering with their wilderness experience. But it would be short-lived. The loggers never stayed in one place any longer than it took to clear the designated area and move on.

It took Griffen only a few minutes to break through the trees and step onto the road. The men he’d sent ahead were already there.

One of them spoke. “Nothing has gone by. Want us to head north and see if we can find someone? It might be closer than heading back to the bottom.”

“Good idea. I don’t think it’s that far.” Griffen nodded his assent as he lowered Sharon to the ground next to the road.

The men took off, leaving her with her brother.

“You need to shift,” he muttered.

“And you know that’s not possible,” she responded through gritted teeth. If she shifted into wolf form, she would heal quickly. And it was a viable last resort. But it would be nearly impossible to explain to any of the humans.

That’s why it was a
last
resort.

Griffen stood and spun in a circle as if looking for answers among the trees. He lifted a hand to block the sun from his eyes and set his other hand on his hip. “Fuck.”

“I’m okay, Griff,” she reassured him.

“You’re not.” He twisted around to face her. “Two minutes.” He glanced at her leg. “That’s it. And then you shift.”

She pursed her lips, felt the blood pulse in her leg, and knew without looking it was oozing out to soak the gauze.

Griffen kneeled down at her side again and wrapped his hands around the wound to hold it together.

An engine sounded in the distance, making Sharon’s heart race.
Thank God
.

When the vehicle skidded to a stop and a man jumped out of the driver’s side to rush in their direction, she stopped breathing.

Jackson Wolf.

What were the chances?

She would have laughed if she hadn’t been in shock. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

Fate was always,
always
, in charge.

Jackson stopped two feet from her and froze. He hesitated several heartbeats, and then kneeled next to Griffen. “Sharon.” It wasn’t a question. He knew exactly who she was.

Interesting.

“Do you two know each other?” Griffen asked.

Jackson held her gaze as he responded to her brother. “Not really. But I saw her last Friday night at the girls’ night at one of your brothers’ houses.”

“Ah. Okay. Listen, we need to get her back to the lodge quickly. She’s lost a lot of blood.” Griffen leaned closer. He frowned. “Sharon?”

She tried to nod, but the world was fading slowly around her.

“I’ll pull up closer,” Jackson said as he turned to run back to the black SUV. His voice sounded far away.

Griffen grabbed her by the chin and met her hazy gaze. “You won’t make it. You have to shift.”

She used her last bit of energy to reach for his forearm and squeeze. “No. I won’t shift in front of him, Griffen. Please. Get me to Rebecca.”

He shook his head. “Not enough time.”

“Griffen. Just do it.”

“Why? I’ll just pretend we need him to go get Rebecca instead. By then you’ll—”

“Griffen,” she interrupted, fighting to stay awake. “No. He’s my mate…” Her voice faded as she lost consciousness.

Jackson paced back and forth in the main area of the ski lodge, his entire body stiff with concern.

The only people in the lodge were the Masters and their employees. The slopes had closed several weeks ago, and they were in the middle of transitioning to hiking season. The place looked desolate after months of being packed with laughter, the clomping of boots, and the rustling of zippers.

He’d taken up skiing for the first time this year, thinking to give it a try. He had no idea if he even liked the sport or not yet, but he’d returned week after week on his off days just to get an occasional glimpse of the sweet, sexy, gorgeous, dark-haired beauty who twisted him in knots every time he saw her and forced him to masturbate to visions of her in his head late at night.

Had she ever noticed him?

He sighed. What was he still doing here? He had delivered her and her brother to the lodge safely. One of her brother’s wives, or whatever she was, was working on Sharon in the locker room.

Jackson’s job was done.

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

He stared at the enormous space where skiers had congregated in the winter months. The huge fireplace in the center of the room was surrounded by couches and comfy chairs where skiers rested or their families waited. To one side was the cafeteria, filled with tables and chairs, all perfectly lined up and vacant. It was almost eerie. Like a ghost town.

Carlie Masters, Sharon’s mother, stepped back into the main area. With a warm smile, she introduced herself and pointed to a couch. “Please. Sit. Let me get you something to drink.”

“I’m fine, ma’am.”
I should go. Why am I still here?
he asked himself again as he followed her directions and perched on the edge of the couch.

Carlie wandered away and returned moments later with a bottle of water, which she handed to him. “You must be thirsty. It’s hot out there today.”

He took the cool bottle from her hand and nodded. “Have you heard any news? Where was the epicenter? How strong was it?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. We’ve been over our heads trying to right everything around here so far. And now Sharon…” She bit her lower lip in concern as if just remembering her daughter was injured.

Hell, he felt the same level of angst he read on her face, and his left leg started to bounce. What was wrong with him? He’d never even addressed her directly until he’d stopped to rescue her from the side of the road. And that could hardly be considered a conversation.

Someone else emerged from the locker room and motioned for them to come inside. Or maybe they meant the hand gesture for Carlie only.

Jackson remained seated. But Carlie stood and grabbed his hand briefly. “Come on. Let’s see how she’s doing.”

He followed Sharon’s mother through the door to the locker room. Rebecca was leaning over Sharon’s bare leg, her boot having been removed and her pants shoved up to her thigh.

“I don’t like this,” Griffen growled to one side, his voice barely audible.

He didn’t like what?

Sharon’s face was white. She shot a glare at her brother where he stood to one side. “Shut it.” And then she turned her face toward Jackson. At least she was awake this time. Sort of. She didn’t look like she’d be able to stay that way for long.

She reached her small hand toward him.

He took it, and his heart stopped. An electric current seemed to run between them.

She smiled wanly. “Thanks for rescuing me.”

“No problem.”

“Rebecca’s going to knock me out and stitch me up. You don’t have to stay.”

“Okay.” He couldn’t seem to look away from her face. Even covered in dirt and the streaks of tears she must have shed from the pain, she was gorgeous. Her hair was a tangled mess, her ponytail having slipped so the majority of it escaped to halo her face. She looked homeless, actually. And never more beautiful.

He smiled, unable to think of anything else to do.

“I’ll call you in a few days when I’m more human and thank you properly.” She released him. Her face was tight as if she were telling lies. Which made no sense.

He nodded but didn’t move. Like a magnet, he was drawn to her, unable to look away.

“Come on,” Griffen said as he wrapped a hand around Jackson’s bicep. “I’ll walk you out.”

Dismissed.

Jackson swallowed over the lump in his throat, unable to explain why he didn’t want to leave this woman here with her family. What he wanted to do was wipe her face with a cool cloth and kiss her forehead. He wanted to hold her hand while Rebecca stitched her up.

Why weren’t they taking her to a hospital? He jerked his gaze to the competent woman leaning over her shin and found her seemingly waiting for him to leave. There was nothing around to indicate she was about to stitch someone up. No needle. No iodine to clean the area. Just Rebecca, patiently smiling while Griffen tugged his arm.

Finally, Jackson nodded and allowed himself one more glance at Sharon’s face.

Her expression was tight. Her teeth were gritted as if she intended to scream out in pain as soon as he left the room. Why put on such a brave face?

Confused, but with no excuses left for why he remained in this room with this family he didn’t know, he turned and headed out the door with Griffen. He followed the man all the way to his truck.

“Thanks again,” Griffen said as he yanked the driver’s door open. “Appreciate the help. Knowing Sharon, I’m sure she’ll bake you cookies or something in a few days.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, obviously anxious for Jackson to leave.

Jackson nodded and climbed into his SUV. He let Griffen shut the door as he started the engine.

As he drove away, he watched Griffen jog back into the lodge through his rearview mirror.

He knew two things: the Masters were very strange people, and that was by far not the last time he would see Sharon.

∙•∙

Sharon exhaled slowly as she heard the truck pull away.

Rebecca released her leg and helped her tug her shirt over her head. “You’re crazy, you know.”

“What was I supposed to do?” she muttered. “Die? Shift in front of him?”

“You should have shifted a long time ago. If you had passed out, you wouldn’t have been able to shift. It doesn’t work if you’re unconscious,” Rebecca chastised.

Sharon almost laughed at this woman who had been one of her best friends long before Rebecca found out Sharon and her family were all wolf shifters. Long before Rebecca met and mated with Griffen and their third mate Miles Bartel. Long before Rebecca had become such an expert in the needs of injured wolves that she’d argued incessantly with Sharon to let Griffen send Jackson away without Sharon seeing him.

She needed to shift. She knew that. But she’d needed to face her mate again first. She couldn’t stand the idea of him leaving without knowing she was going to be okay.

So, she’d put on a fake smile and met him head on. It had cost her. She was almost too exhausted to shift. But it was worth it. The look on his face spoke volumes. He might not have understood what he was feeling, but he was indeed lured to her.

It killed her to tell him to leave. But it had to be done. She was no good to him dead.

Her pants were a total loss anyway, and Sharon was out of strength. So, she brushed Rebecca’s assistance away, closed her eyes, and let the change wash over her.

It took longer than usual, but in about fifteen seconds she was fully shifted, her remaining clothes in tatters under her. Her leg throbbed, and she growled at the pain, but after several deep breaths, she rested her snout on her front paws and closed her eyes…

»»•««

Isaiah Arthur leaned against a thick tree trunk just inside the tree line and glanced at his brother. “What do you think?”

“I think this is a prescription for disaster,” Wyatt responded without turning his head away from the scene in front of him. He tucked his fingers into the pockets of his jeans and rocked forward and backward. His hair was in need of a trim, and thick brown locks hung across his forehead almost blocking his vision. “Did you call Dad?”

“Nope. Think we should?” Isaiah ran his hand over his short-cropped hair in exasperation. It was just as thick as his brother’s, and the same shade of brown, but he hated dealing with it, so he kept it cut closer to his scalp.

Wyatt blew out a breath, his gaze still frozen to the valley in front of him. “Not sure it will change anything, but perhaps he has some advice.”

Isaiah hadn’t spoken to their father in several weeks. It was high time he called home anyway. “How involved do you think we should get?”