Rabid (Kingdom of Wolves #6) - Ivy Asher Page 0,42

small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, my lack of reaction clearly amusing to him, and he pulls the tool out from under his arm. It looks like a rounded pair of hedge trimmers, and I really hope he’s brought them in here to deal with my chains and not anything else actually attached to my body.

With the Ruin Falls pack, I’m thinking it could go either way.

He pulls apart the arms, opening the mouth of sharp clippers, and then waits.

“Well? What’s it gonna be?”

I stare at him, wondering why he’d be removing one of the obstacles that’s keeping me here. I study his face and then the tool, trying to see the catch. My wolf gives me an irritable nudge, so I tentatively stretch my clinking chains forward. Maybe she’s right and it doesn’t matter why they’re doing it. Getting these chains off is vital.

Instead of snapping the chains, the golden-eyed stranger moves the tool to my wrist, and I automatically yank back in horror.

He clicks his tongue. “Relax.”

Opening the blades wide, he slips the mouth of the cutters between the inch-thick cuff around my wrist. I tense, but with strong muscles and precise movement, he snaps the metal clean off me. I try hard not to sigh in relief or rub at the raw skin and sore joint that’s now free of the imprisoning metal. He doesn’t say a word as he snips the cuff off my other wrist and then lowers the mouth of the curved blades to my ankles.

I smell the air for any hint of lust or interest, any sign that this is about to take a turn for the worse for me, but the male is focused on severing the metal and is even careful not to cut my skin.

“You smell like you could be from Twin Rivers, is that who left you here?” he asks, his nostrils flaring as though he’s confirming his suspicion.

I don’t say anything, not sure if confirming or denying or even speaking to this shifter is a good idea.

“I’ll bring a bath in for you,” he announces, as he stands up, clearly not bothered by my silence. He kicks the food a little closer and then turns around and leaves, just like that. The door snaps shut behind him, and I hear the telltale click of a lock being put in place on the other side. I stare with a frown of confusion for a moment as I gently rub my wrists and ankles. The rope is still tied around my arm, but the chains are blessedly gone.

Why did he just do that? Why would this pack care if I’m more comfortable?

Is it a trick?

Leaning forward to peek through the slats, I stare at the rickety old cabin of a house as though the answers are written in the sun-bleached siding. My wolf gives me another nudge though, and the smell of fresh meat hits me. I turn back to the food and shuffle over to both bowls, trying to scent if anything is off. Burke was a fan of drugs, so maybe this pack is too. Yet all I smell is fresh meat and clean water.

Picking up the bowl of water, I tip it back, my body waking up with desperation as soon as the first drop hits my tongue. I gulp down half the contents of the refreshing liquid before my stomach demands more. I set it down and look at the bowl of food, and my mouth waters. I’ve never had raw meat before, and the sight should turn my stomach, but I’m salivating as much as my wolf is.

I dig into the meat like I’m the feral beast my pack accused me of being. Growing up, I’ve watched other spirit-bound pack members prefer their meat raw. I never thought I’d be one of them, but it tastes like heaven. I swallow down huge mouthfuls, and I can practically taste the mountain grass and fresh springs that clearly sustained the venison in my mouth. I moan around a bite, and maybe I’m just starving, but this just might be the best damn thing I’ve ever eaten.

I debate saving some food for later, because who knows if this will be a regular thing, but my wolf and body are desperate for nutrients and fuel for healing. I don’t stop myself from eating every single scrap and then licking the bowl clean.

Oh, if Burke could see me now, acting like the flea-bitten mongrel he’s reduced me