Faith is Fallen (Broken Fantasies Series)

Chapter 36

Isn't it funny how history has a tendency of repeating itself. And being Fae, I've lived long enough to suffer the same calamity twice.

If she'd been asked so many years ago, she would have never believed that the same thing could have happened to her twice. Was she that dense? Was she so stupid that she couldn't learn from past mistakes?

Or maybe she was simply too trusting. Or too much time had gone by. Many thoughts flitted through her mind as she lay on the ground, blood loss making her a little loopy. The growing circle of red seemed to almost hypnotize her as her body grew colder and colder.

She'd completely forgotten her brother's parting words by the time the wolf entered her field of vision. It just seemed... majestic. Beautiful. She wanted to reach out to him, run her hands through his long fur. It never entered her mind for a moment that he could or would harm her.

But her arms stayed heavy, limp at her sides, uncooperative and unresponsive. The wolf approached closer and closer as the darkness of unconsciousness engulfed her.

#

Daniel approaches the dying human form cautiously, his paws slow, hesitant on the wooden planks. He looked over his shoulder at the glass doors, half expecting that monster of a man to return, but there was nothing but darkness inside.

A few more steps and he was standing over her, breathless with anticipation. Her eyes had closed, and her chest barely lifted with each breath. He froze, fearing the worst, and nudged her face with his muzzle, hoping to wake her, to get her to move at least, but she didn't respond. His alarm grew, and he shifted into his human form. He needed his hands. "Come on, sweet," he said, shaking her shoulders. "Wake up."

She didn't even flinch as he removed the blade and pressed his hand down on the terrible wound, some part in the back of his head telling him it was fatal, that she didn't have a chance, but he ruthlessly shoved it out of his mind, not willing to listen. She couldn't die. He wouldn't be able to bear it, and he wasn't even sure why. She couldn't die without him figuring out why.

Daniel pulled her jacket off awkwardly, still holding his hand down on the wound, and fashioned it into a bandage. The though crossed him mind that she would probably be terribly startled if she found a large, naked man crouching over her. He barked a humorless laugh. He would much rather try to explain his nakedness, deal with the panic that would likely ensue, than this. "Please, please wake up, love."

When he had the bandage secure, he lifted her, careful of her wound, determined to keep his mind off how the material grew darker before his eyes. Eventually, it won't be able to grow any darker. He shook his head, ridding his mind of that malicious thought. He had to think positive. Be positive. She would survive. She had to. Even if he didn't know her name.

#

The trek back to pack lands was a terrible one. He could feel the warmth leaving her degree by degree, could feel the blood soaking his arms where he held her. He could feel her slipping away from him, sending raging panic running through him, locking up his muscles, leaving him less than graceful.

Every step he took brought each jarring movement he made more and more alarming, if for no other reason than she didn't move, didn't make a single sound. He would have done anything, paid anything, just to hear a single moan, see her squirm in pain just once, even if the sound or sight my rip him apart inside. Because holding her in his arms as she lay lifeless was so much worse.

Daniel didn't understand it, not for a moment. He didn't know this woman. He'd seen her a couple of times in the woods, but that was all. Why should he feel so connected to her? It didn't make any sense.

The trek back home took ten times longer than it every had before, no matter how much he dillydallied. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the markers that indicated they were crossing into private property—his property.

When the trees opened up, exposing his home, he could have cried if he'd been a different man. He moved as quickly as he could, reared back, and kicked open the front door. "Help!" His voice boomed through the house, causing everyone there to come running. It was his home, but he had an open door policy, and the building rarely stood empty.

Several people ran into the front hallway where he stood. A young person gasped, but two older members of the pack kept their surprise firmly in place, responding quickly and in a way that had him sighing in relief. He didn't really notice the brief knowing smiles or nods they exchanged at the time.

"Come, upstairs," one of them said.

"I'll get the supplies from the downstairs bathroom and meet you there," the other said.

The young girl, little more than a teenager, followed them upstairs, seemingly intending to help.

Daniel took each step with care, afraid of jarring her, even though she felt so cold to his naturally heated flesh that he suspected she could have been put in an ice box and he wouldn't know the difference. He entered the first bedroom he came across, and laid her down.

The older woman went immediately to work, and Daniel stepped out of the way, not even realizing that he'd taken hold of the injured woman's hand as he did so.