Healing of the Wolf - Cherise Sinclair Page 0,42

as she looked around. Next time, he’d make her prove she could find the lodge and the tavern portals again.

Once in the cave, he sniffed out their clothing. Donal had stuffed the bundles into one of the carved-out cubbies in the rock walls. Good brother.

Tynan trawsfurred and winced. Bare feet on an ice-cold cave floor.

After shifting to human, Meggie stood, keeping her weight on her good leg. Her smile was so bright she could have brought an early spring to the mountains. “That was wonderful. I learned so much. Thank you!”

He leaned against the cave wall as interest heated his blood. Not because she was a naked female—although, she really was lovely—but the way she took joy in the simplest things was incredibly appealing.

“I’m glad you enjoyed the run.” Smiling, he pointed out her clothing and started dressing. “Are you off tomorrow?”

“In the afternoon. Will that work for you?” She sat on a bench to pull on her jeans. Because her left leg probably wouldn’t hold her weight by itself.

Pity made his heart ache.

“Late afternoon will work well.” He set the rest of her clothing beside her so she wouldn’t have to stand again, then pulled on his jeans.

“Meggie, I can see you’re in pain.” He kept his voice soft. “Next time, tell me when your ankle begins to hurt. We should have stopped earlier.”

As he waited for her answer, he donned and buttoned his shirt.

“It’s not that bad. It’s that—” After looking up, she jumped to her feet and backed away. Her hands were in fists.

He turned and saw no predator in the cave. A sniff confirmed his visual check.

No, she was staring…at him. At his uniform shirt and badge. By Herne’s hooves and antlers. He’d hoped their time together would remove her fear of him.

But once again—because of his uniform—she acted like he was a Scythe guard. Perhaps he should be grateful he’d left his firearm and weapons belt locked in his vehicle.

“Meggie,” he said gently. “I wear this shirt and badge because I’ve sworn to protect people. The opposite of what the Scythe did.”

“Sure, sure. I know that.” She took another step away from him.

But her hands were fisted, her muscles tensed. She was as likely to punch him as to run.

He doubted she realized that. How much rage did she have stored inside? Oftentimes, a victim would blindly lash out, not at their abuser, but at another who’d triggered the response. If Meggie attacked someone in law enforcement, she’d get locked up—and being a shifter, might well die in a jail cell.

Even more terrifying, if she lost control and trawsfurred in front of humans, the Cosantir would have her killed for endangering the Daonain.

The world was filled with uniforms. She needed to get past this reaction and quickly.

He pointed to the bench. “Finish getting dressed, please, so we can leave.” Giving her space, he walked to the cave opening and waited with his back to her.

“I’m done.” She was standing by the bench. Still pale. “I’m…sorry.”

“We’ll talk about it another time. Let me show you how to access the doors in and out of the cave.” He climbed the stairs. The heavy door at the top opened into a closet. After showing her how to operate the locking mechanism from the other side, he took her through the sitting room. “The door from the hallway is always locked unless there’s a Gathering here.”

He demonstrated how to work the combination-lock and made sure she had the code memorized.

“Good.” Past the tiny kitchen, restrooms, and the stairs to the second floor Gathering rooms, the hallway opened into the main tavern.

It was late with only a few people remaining. Probably expecting Tynan’s report on the new pack member, Shay and Zeb were talking to Donal by the fireplace. Calum was behind the bar. Ryder was playing chess with Thorson. No humans were in the room.

Perfect. If needed, the alpha could help calm Meggie.

If Tynan pushed her too far.

His gut tensed a protest at what he was about to do.

“Donal’s here so we’ll give you a ride home.” Tynan stepped closer to Meggie.

“No.” As he’d expected, she jerked back. She stumbled on her sore ankle. “I’ll bike.”

Even knowing the origins of her antipathy, it burned after the comradery of the last few hours.

“No, ye will not bike home.” He raised his voice to ensure the tavern occupants were listening.

When Calum’s eyes narrowed, Tynan shot him a look. Stay out of this. The Cosantir didn’t speak—but his stillness was that of

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