A Cursed Bloodline Page 67

“We’ll all help you, Celia,” Emme said. “We’ll call the wolves and—”

“No.” My voice shook as my panic rose. “I can’t trust the wolves not to hurt Aric. Makawee ordered them to put him down. They were trying to kill him when I flew him out of the Den.”

A truck thundered by while I waited for everyone to take in my words. Taran’s swears punched through the line like hailstones. “Really? Well, they left that little tidbit out. All they said was they needed to find you before Aric killed you.”

Panicked shuffling ensued. “Don’t worry, Ceel,” Shayna said. “We’ll pack now and catch the next flight out.”

Emme’s sadness seeped through the receiver. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through, Celia. Just…stay strong and I promise we’ll help you through this.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Just be careful. Lucinda may be weak, but she’s still deadly.”

The darkness in Taran’s tone wafted through the receiver. “Don’t worry, Celia. That bitch doesn’t stand a chance against us.”

My family would help us. I had to keep it together…just a little longer. “I’ll call you at this same time in exactly seven days.”

I hung up the phone and raced back to the forest and tried to change. The first time I only managed a beak, then talons, then feathers on my ass. I swore, frustrated. I didn’t comprehend how I’d managed those other changes. I continued to focus until I finally formed wings. On my return flight, I spotted an old cabin. Overgrown grass and tall weeds circled the tiny structure and thick moss carpeted the roof. It rested just a few yards from the river. It surprised me I’d failed to notice it before.

This will be a good place to bring Aric.

I found my wolf resting in the sun. He’d devoured the entire buck—including the bones. His eyes continued to twitch and his head jerked, and still he wagged his tail upon seeing me land. I shrugged my shoulders to shake off the change and lay next to him. “Hi, baby. Did you get enough to eat?”

My arms wrapped around his bloated stomach to feel his soft warm fur against my body. Before I knew it, I dozed off to sleep.

My morning sickness worsened over the next few days, completely freaking out my companion. Aric paced back and forth until I finished, nudging me with his head. I tried to reassure him yet I found it challenging to settle his distress. He thought I hurt, except he was the one in pain. Aric’s seizures increased in duration and intensity, as did his howls of torment. The twitches in his head were so severe, he could barely walk straight.

I tried not to let our misfortunes affect me. I continued to scare old deer into meeting their Maker and cared for Aric as if he was on the mend, despite realizing his condition deteriorated with each passing day. Our one blessing was the old cabin.

One room and an outhouse made up our new home, just enough to suit our needs. It seemed the owners had planned to return, but never did. Sheets and blankets were tucked into an old trunk. I washed them in the river and hung them to dry on a clothesline and used a broom to sweep the windows, walls, floors, and ceiling. Much to my delight, the old-fashioned water pump in the small kitchen worked and a full box of matches lay next to the fireplace. The owners had even left a couple of pots and plastic tumblers.

Three thick sleeping bags lay against the cabin wall, and I spread them in front of the fireplace to make us a bed. The sheets and blankets remained stiff following my river wash and air-drying, but they were a welcome comfort after sleeping outside. And, score! I uncovered a duffel bag filled with men’s clothes and toiletries. I greeted the disposable razors, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and soaps like the tiny treasures they were, rejoicing that they remained in their original packaging.

Much to Aric’s annoyance, I made good use of my discoveries to scrub and rinse his fur at the river. I also brushed his fangs with the extra toothbrush. He hated the taste, and kept flicking out his tongue to spit out the foam. After I finished with him, I concentrated fully on me—washing my long hair, brushing my teeth, and oh, yeah, shaving my legs.

I emerged from the freezing water shaking and desperate to put on the extra-large cotton shorts and T-shirt I’d found. Aric sprawled in the sun to dry his fur. He abruptly sat up and wobbled over, twitching and shivering, and proceeded to yank on my shorts with his fangs.

“Aric, cut it out!” He ignored my protests and pulled harder. I gripped the edge and tugged. “Come on. I’ve been walking around naked for almost three days!” My comment had little effect on him. Instead of backing off, his efforts became more urgent until he tore them off.

“Fine. Keep the damn shorts. But my shirt stays on.” He wagged his tail, apparently happy with the compromise.

Later that afternoon, Aric had a particularly violent seizure, one that lasted longer than the rest. His yelps and moans brought tears to my eyes. I knew his agony remained between seizures, and still he’d push through. This time, he continued to whine from the hurt eating away at his body long after the convulsions had stopped. Unable to stand, he lay where he’d collapsed. It killed me to see him giving up. My morning sickness and fatigue made caring for him challenging, and yet I did my best. I hunted and kept us clean and cared for. I did so because I still had hope, but his defeatist attitude would claim us if I didn’t stop it.

I spread out in front of him and tried to distract him. “I’ve missed cooking for you.” His whines continued, but he turned his head toward my face. “Remember when you’d find me in the kitchen making you dinner?” He quieted, then slowly wagged his tail. He remembered. “You’d come up behind me and wrap your arms around my waist.” I smiled, recalling the memories. “And then you’d ask, ‘What are you making me, sweetness?’ Every time, you’d kiss me before I could tell you. Every time.”

Aric’s tail thumped against the ground. He moved closer and poked me in the nose with his. I grinned. “Sometimes I hadn’t finished cooking before you’d whisk us upstairs.” I stroked the side of his face. I’d meant my words to be uplifting, but my voice cracked as I continued to speak. “Even if you don’t stay with me and choose”—I couldn’t say Diane’s name—“someone else, I need you to live. I need to know you’re okay.” Aric rose to his haunches and whined. I wiped my tears on my shirt. “Please don’t give up, baby.”

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