This Dark Wolf (Soul Bitten Shifter #1) - Everly Frost Page 0,39

your father.”

I exhale a frustrated sigh. If he’s trying to tell me I’m not responsible for my father’s death, then he’s turning himself into a liar. “My father died because of me. Because of my fucked-up wolf. I heard you loud and clear, Tristan.”

His green eyes storm across my face, his fingers pressing so hard into my back that I arch away from them, which only pushes my breasts harder against his naked chest. My flannel shirt and bra are thin barriers between us. The tension at the base of my stomach increases, a needy ache that urges me to slide my hips forward, but I resist its power.

Forcing my hands between our stomachs and leveraging the gap he left between our hips, I slide my hands up across Tristan’s abdominal muscles, curving across the chiseled lines. I rest my palms against his pecs, listening for his quick inhales, aware of the gentle part of his lips. Fighting his power and all of its dizzying effects, I push against him, softly at first and then harder when he doesn’t budge.

“You need to let me go now or Helen’s going to lose her shit,” I murmur.

Behind Tristan, Helen stands with her wand raised. The air crackles in a way that tells me she’s ready to separate us using magical force if she has to.

Tristan slides his arms away from me, his fingers trailing down my back, making me shiver before he slowly steps away, taking the scent of sweat and blood with him.

His jaw is tight as he spins to Helen. “Lock me out. Or next time, I won’t leave Tessa behind.”

The door is already open. He breaks into a run, moving so fast that he slides into the opposite wall in the corridor, cracking it on impact. He doesn’t stop. His rapidly disappearing footfalls sound down the corridor.

I listen to every beat, hearing Tristan’s movements, his running feet, pumping arms, his inhales and exhales, until they finally, suddenly stop and I know he’s gone. All the magic in the world can’t seem to dampen his impact on me. For better or for worse.

Helen lets out her breath.

“Okay, then.” Her shoulders finally relax and her wand lowers. She clears her throat. She’s still collecting herself as she strides toward me. “Are you okay, Tessa?”

At my nod, she says, “I want to check you over before you attempt to stand on your own.”

Raising her wand again, she quickly runs it across the air in front of me. Her eyebrows rise a little, but the tension disappears from around her mouth. “Good news. Your body is healing itself far more rapidly than I expected. The bruising around your ribs has settled, so has the swelling in your face. Most of the visible bruising is gone too. How long does it normally take you to heal a broken bone?”

“About a week for a bad break,” I say, answering her factually-spoken question with a matter-of-fact response.

“You heal far more rapidly than most shifters then.”

“It’s how I’ve taken so many beatings,” I say, staring back at her.

It’s how I’ll take many more. I have no illusions that my future is filled with peace.

Helen’s jaw clenches. “Not anymore, Tessa. Not on my watch.”

I’m starting to believe she means it. That she genuinely wants to help me.

I break the charged silence by swiveling to the window to confirm that it’s the middle of the night. “I’m starving and I really need to pee,” I say.

Helen pulls away. “Of course. Let me get this off you.”

She quickly removes the cannula, releasing me from the fallen medical apparatus on the floor beside the table.

One thing I’m not is sleepy.

“Is there any chance Iyana is up and about?” I ask. I’m hoping that her vampire behavior will follow the cliché and she mostly sleeps during the day.

Helen smiles. “She keeps erratic hours. She should wake up any time now.”

“Good, because I don’t feel like sleeping.”

I feel like training. I’ve wasted enough time already. I plan to make the most of every moment from now until Tristan comes back for me.

I shake off the remnant power that reminds me of him.

It doesn’t matter how much Helen tries to protect me, my future will contain more battles. But I’m determined that the next fight will be on my terms.

Chapter Ten

The 9mm pistol feels foreign in my hands, a cold weapon for cold kills.

Iyana shuffles around me while I stand at the bench at the top of the firing lane. She instructs me about