Ronan’s Wolf ran as quickly as he could at the sound of Giada’s cry, zeroing in on her location so intensely that he didn’t even notice the sounds of the carnage taking place behind him. All he heard were the words of the man holding Giada in his grip, her whimpers, her sobs. He could smell her fear, practically feel her heartbeat thundering in her chest, and his Wolf grew more and more feral with each word the soon to be dead human said to her.
The man had one hand wrapped in her hair up near her scalp, holding her up near his face, keeping her off balance and just barely able to touch the ground with her tip toes.
One of Giada’s hands was locked around his wrist, trying desperately to reclaim some level of control over her own body, while her other arm hung loosely at her side, her shoulder having been dislocated in the beating he’d given her when he first found her.
“You stupid bitch! You’re just making things worse for yourself. Where the fuck are they?” the man shouted in her face before he slapped her so hard her head snapped to the right, tearing some of her hair from her head. He adjusted his grip and shook her by the handful of hair he fisted until she was facing him again. “What do you think? He’s going to kill his own kids?” he sneered at her.
“Yes,” she spat at him.
The man smiled at her coldly before he put his face so close to hers that they were practically touching. “You’re right. We’re going to kill them both, then we’re going take their pictures all nice and pretty with their brains all splattered around. Then we’re going to load your stupid ass up and take you to him —being sure to show you their pretty pictures every few miles or so just to remind you of how bad you fucked up. This is all your fault. All you had to do was stay where you fucking belonged and know your fucking place. How hard is that? But no. No. You decided to sign your own kids’ death warrants, because like I said, you don’t know your fucking place. Look what it’s gotten you. What a fucking idiot!” he said, then leaned away from her before forcing his head back toward hers. It was obvious he planned to head butt her, possibly breaking her nose or causing a concussion, but in the few seconds that seemed to take forever, a vicious snarl caught both Giada’s and the man’s attention, causing them to turn their faces toward the sound. Giada’s eyes widened and she sucked in a breath at the sight of a huge, tawny Wolf barreling toward them, close to the ground, his hackles up, his fangs dripping saliva, moving so fast he was almost a blur.
She fell in slow motion, what took two-to-three seconds seemed to take minutes as instead of panicking or thinking of self-preservation, her only thought was, ‘oh, he’s pretty’. Then her head hit the ground, bouncing twice from its impact with one of the gnarled roots of one of the century oaks that had curved up out of the ground, and everything went dark.
She didn’t see the Wolf launch himself at the man who’d been assaulting her. She didn’t see the Wolf’s mouth open so wide it looked almost painful, then close around the man’s face as he tried in vain to push the Wolf away. She didn’t see the man fall backwards, its impact taking them both down as the Wolf sank its fangs into the sides of his face and tore it away from his skull. She didn’t hear the man shrieking in terror as the Wolf shook the shredded flesh from its mouth, only to plunge its fangs into the man’s neck, clamp its powerful jaws together and tear out his throat, larynx and windpipe.
She didn’t see Ronan shift back into his human form and urgently scramble toward her, screaming her name, with bloodrunning down his chin and chest. But somewhere deep inside, her soul took a breath and calmed her. He was near. Somehow her unconscious mind knew Ronan was near.
Ronan screamed her name over and over again as he ran his hands over her, searching for a pulse, searching for injuries. He pressed his fingers against her neck, laid his bloodstained head on her chest and heard a thump from her heart. He held his breath, listening for another, and when it came, he cried tears of joy as he forced himself to calm and check her more thoroughly. He moved to her head and gently lifted it so he could get a look at the back of her head. Her scalp had split, and her hair was matted with blood. There was already purple bruising forming on her face and her hands — where the man had hit her and where she’d tried to defend herself. And when he ran his hands over her again, he found the dislocation of her shoulder.
Ronan heard heavy, but fast footsteps coming at him. He stood quickly, standing over her as he prepared to protect her, then realized the footsteps belonged to Brandt. Brandt shifted mid-stride. “How is she?” he asked, as Ronan dropped to his knees beside Giada again.
“Unconscious. Her head is bleeding, swollen. She’s got bruises coming up on her face and her arms and hands.”
“She fought him,” Brandt said.
“Yeah. And she’s got a dislocated shoulder,” Ronan said, his voice gruff as he continued checking his mate.
“How’s her heartbeat? Is she breathing okay?” Brandt asked.
“I think so,” Ronan said. He laid his hand gently on her cheek. “Giada? Giada, honey wake up. I need you to wake up and let me know you’re okay.” His voice cracked as he tried to wake her.
Brandt reached out and felt for her pulse. He held his fingers there for long enough to be sure it felt steady. “I thinkshe’s breathing well, Ronan. And it’s your choice, but I really think it would be kinder to pop her shoulder back in socket while she’s out, than to wake her up and then try to do it. It’s excruciating,” Brandt said.
Ronan looked up at him with tears in his eyes.
“Take hold of her, don’t let her move, hold her as steady as you can and I’ll pop it back in,” Brandt said.
“You sure?” Ronan asked.
“I’ve done it to others and had it done to me. I’m as sure as I can be.”
Ronan nodded, then went to Giada’s other side and braced himself against her so that when Brant pulled and turned, the rest of her body would stay stationary so the shoulder would hopefully slip right back into place.
Brandt went around to the side Ronan had been on and felt Giada’s shoulders, both of them, before he nodded to himself. “Ready?” he asked as he stood and took hold of her arm just above her wrist.
“Yeah,” Ronan said, looking up at Brandt.
Brandt counted aloud. “One. Two, Three!” On three he pulled and turned her shoulder. A loud pop sounded and despite being unconscious, a grimace crossed her features. Brandt knelt beside her and felt her shoulder, tearing away the collar of her shirt to better see it. He rotated her arm a time or two with his other hand lying on the joint to feel it’s movement. Finally, he nodded. “That’s it. It’s in.”
Ronan slipped his hands beneath Giada, lifting her in his arms and started for the shelter.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
“I gotta get her help. I can’t just allow her to lie here and wait to see what happens.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where you going, boy?” Maverik yelled as he jogged toward Ronan and Brandt. “She alright?” Maverikdemanded, quickly feeling for a pulse as he came to a stop right in front of Giada.
“I gotta get her help. I need a car. I have to take her to the hospital.”
