I was prey, naughty prey who ran from him, prey who—Graeson once said—smelled like I belonged to him.

Having never specifically asked if the wolf was a separate entity or merely a facet of Graeson’s personality, I wasn’t counting on the man’s views to sway the beast.

Tense seconds passed while Graeson sniffed, first my hair and then across my soft belly. My gut knotted as his muzzle nudged my shirt up above my navel, and he breathed in the scent of my skin. The pelt on my arms delighted him, and he rubbed his face against my fur. Satisfied with that, he continued his inspection until his nose brushed the mangled flesh of my calf. He lapped at the warm blood spilling out, and a low whine surged in the back of his throat.

I didn’t breathe until his sharp teeth were out of biting range.

Head lowered, he sat on the ground beside me, as though pondering what he ought to do with me now that he’d caught me.

I hoped that decision involved not being eaten.

Seeming to come to some conclusion, he lowered his belly to the grass, rested his head on his front legs and simply stared at me.

With no place to go, I released the magic stinging my arms. It was half gone already, and holding on to it only made me weaker. I could steal a drop from Graeson if I had to shift again. His blood was more potent than Imogen’s, and I needed every advantage if he came at me with teeth bared.

An eternity later, my eyelids began to flutter. Too much magic spent, too much blood lost.

The solemn eyes of a wolf locked with mine, and then there was darkness.

Chapter 13

My bladder woke me. More to the point, the leaden wolf’s head pressing down on the swollen organ woke me. I came awake to find the promise of midday had burned off to twilight. The radiating pain in my calf slammed into me a second later, and a gasp punched past my lips.

I had a choice to make. Risk the wolf’s wrath and find a toilet, or lay there and let nature take its course. I made up my mind not to die in wet jeans, and the rest went easier from there.

Palms braced on the ground, I levered myself up into a sitting position. Graeson eyed me and slid his head lower, until his chin rested on my thigh.

“Oh thank God.” A voice drifted down to me. “You’re alive.”

“For now.” I tested my injured leg, and stars exploded behind my eyes. “Let’s see how long it lasts.”

“Your family is nearby.” Imogen peered over the platform’s edge. “Cord wouldn’t let them anywhere near you.”

A flutter of panic that they might be close enough for him to take notice winged through me. “I’m going home.”