Fated Magic (Claimed by Wolves #1) - Callie Rose Page 0,16
it means. So I deflect with the most burning question I’ve had since yesterday afternoon.
“Was it real?” I ask, reaching for another strip of bacon. “The wolf in your living room? He was a man… and then he was a wolf.”
Ridge narrows his eyes at me, not in anger like Uncle Clint used to, but as if he’s carefully constructing his next statement. I can’t really blame him for seeming to walk on eggshells around me—I haven’t proven to be the most stable of individuals since he opened his home to me. Even now, balancing on this precarious ledge where he’s about to tell me whether I hallucinated that or not, I’m on the borderline of losing my nerve again.
“What you saw really happened,” he finally says, clearly deciding not to try to sugarcoat or dance around the truth.
I suck in a breath, putting the bacon back down quickly before my shaking fingers drop it on the clean sheets. “Jesus.”
“I need you to understand that you’re safe here,” he rushes to add. He places a palm on the mattress between us, as if he wishes he could place it on my arm in comfort. I manage to keep myself from shrinking away again, although maybe that’s just because my brain is too busy trying to wrap its head around what he just told me.
“Are you… a wolf too?”
The words come out strangled. The first revelation already threatened to overwhelm me, but if the answer to this is yes…
I have an itch to run. Again. How can I be safer in the hands of weird man-wolf hybrids than I would be alone in the wilderness?
“Yes, I’m a wolf shifter. But we’re not a threat to you.” Ridge’s deep voice is calm and measured. “We pose no threat to human communities. My pack is peaceful. We keep to ourselves mostly, and we keep our existence secret from ordinary humans. It’s safer for everybody that way.”
Threatened with an overload of emotion, I focus on the one thing that really sticks out. “Your pack. There’s more than one pack?”
“There used to be four. But we’re down to three after—” He breaks off, shaking his head. “There are only three now.”
I don’t know what he was about to say, but questions are crowding my mind, clogging my brain as they pile up on top of each other. It’s hard for me to keep hold of a single train of thought for too long as I try to process everything that’s happened to me.
Holding up my left hand, I wiggle the fingers, surprised all over again that I can do it without pain. “What happened to my wrist? It was… it was hurt. Sprained. And my ankle…”
“Yeah.” Ridge’s eyes harden, but I don’t think the anger in them is directed at me. “I had our healer come take a look at your injuries. She was able to patch up the worst of them, including your arm and your ankle.” His brows pull together, and he scans my body quickly. “Are you hurt anywhere else? I can bring her back if you are.”
“No. No, I’m okay.”
I really don’t feel pain anywhere else, and I’m relieved to hear that the healer is a woman. But I don’t think I could handle being touched or examined by another stranger right now.
“All right.” Ridge leans back a little, a look of relief crossing his face. “Well, just tell me if—”
He cuts off, turning away from me and craning his ear toward the window. The glass is closed, and I don’t hear anything for several seconds.
Then a chorus of howls pierce the silence, faint in the distance but loud enough for me to pick up on.
“Fuck me,” Ridge growls, standing abruptly. He shoves a hand through his messy brown hair, then drags his palm down his face, closing his eyes as if to brace himself. When he opens his eyes, he levels that honey gaze on me, grimacing slightly. “I have to go.”
I nod, though I feel a twinge of regret that he’s leaving when we’ve only just begun talking. If I learn more about his pack, and about the life they lead, I think maybe I won’t feel the need to run so fast and far.
Life with Clint was one long unknown. Would I get a day’s respite before he raised a hand to me again? Would he feed me? Would he let me read a book so that I could have an escape from the horror that was my