Blinding pain burst into life in his side. Cillian yelped, staggering away. Warm blood began to mat his fur.
Cillian wavered. The guy had scoured deep, and moving too much was agony. Still, he couldn’t get up. He lungedforward, but his movements were haphazard and imprecise. He lashed out, dragging his claws across the other wolf’s flank.
The battle continued, the two of them exchanging blows. But Cillian could feel himself weakening. Chase’s attacks had left him weak. He couldn’t keep going for much longer before his strength gave out.
Jumping forward, he lashed out with his claws, dragging them across Chase’s face. Chase yowled in pain, leaping back from Cillian’s next attack. Cillian snarled. He needed to end this before it was too late. He was getting weaker by the minute. He’d let his anger make him hasty, and he couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes unless he wanted to end up several feet under.
But Chase seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He whipped his head around, searching for an exit. Instead of attacking Cillian and risking losing the fight, he bolted, putting as much distance between himself and Cillian as possible.
Cillian watched the other wolf dart into the woods. He took a step forward and stumbled, his leg nearly collapsing out from underneath him. Nauseating pain pulsed through his entire body. As much as he wanted to go after him, he wouldn’t be able to, not like this. He needed to leave.
He snarled in frustration. He hated fleeing. He thought it was the coward’s way out, something he had never expected himself to do. He had never been that type of person before.
This time, however, chasing after Chase would only get him killed. He’d been stupid coming here on his own. He should have gotten backup. There were so many reasons Cillian needed to follow Chase. He needed to stop Chase from reaching Eric, either to help Eric or report to him that a guy matching Cillian’s description had attacked him. As much as he hated Eric, hecouldn’t deny that Eric was smart. There was a chance that Eric would make the connection.
But going after Chase was a death sentence. He needed to get home as quickly as possible. He was already in danger of bleeding out. And if Chase decided to come back and finish the job, he was a goner anyway. As much as he hated to admit it, he had to leave.
Snarling, forcing himself to move through the pain, Cillian hurried home as fast as he could.
Chapter 12 - Amber
The sun beat down as Amber walked home. She had always loved summer, when it was warm enough and light enough after work that she could stroll home and be alone with her thoughts. She had always liked walking quietly and letting herself ruminate. At the moment, as they often did nowadays, her thoughts drifted to Cillian, and the other night when she had fallen asleep against him.
Amber rounded the corner. Her smile vanished, her jaw dropping in horror as she took in the gruesome sight in front of her.
Cillian leaned against the doorframe, a bloody hand clutching his side, another wound bleeding along half his calf. He was covered in grime. Panting, wincing in pain, he tried to give a playful smile.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said. “The real kicker is this one.” He pointed to the tiny, shallow scratch over his eyebrow. “Deadly.”
Amber didn’t laugh. “God, we need to get you to a hospital or something.”
Cillian shook his head. “I’m not a big fan of hospitals,” he growled.
“Don’t be stupid,” Amber said, already fishing for her keys. “Let’s get in the car, and—”
“I’m a shifter; I heal quick,” he said, then added, perhaps a bit petulantly, “And I don’t like hospitals.”
“So you’re planning on bleeding all over the porch?” She meant to sound sardonic. Instead, she came off as panicked.
“I was hoping you might be willing to help,” he said.
“Of course.” She said it without thinking. Huffing, she pushed her hair away from her eyes, trying to keep herself calm despite the panic beginning to surge through her. “But can I at least get Camden or Jasper or Franco?” she asked. “Or, you know, someone who actually knows about stitching and first aid beyond putting a bandage on a scratch from a rose thorn?”
Cillian grimaced again as he adjusted his position. “I’d rather not at the moment,” he said. “They don’t exactly know that I went rogue.”
She glanced around, trying to still her swirling thoughts and the panic there. What did he mean that he’d gone rogue? He hadn’t been that stupid, had he? But one glance in his direction told him that, yes, he had been that stupid.
She wanted to chew him out, to slap him upside the head for being so careless. Her mind was spinning, and she had to shove down her panic. He looked like a mess. What if he had gotten himself killed? The thought sent an unpleasant spasm rippling through her, a frustration she wouldn’t have expected to feel. Her heart was hammering.
Why do I care so much?she wondered with a jolt. This was the man who had forced her to marry him. Why was she worried about his safety to the point of anger?
She glanced at him again and shoved that thought aside. She would have to pursue it some other time. At the moment, there were other, more important problems to solve. Cillian looked as though he was about to fall over at any moment.
“I need your help, Amber,” he said.
“I don’t know this first thing about stitching or first aid,” she said.
He grasped her shoulder, smirking down at her. “I’ll talk you through it.”
