Woot Woot for double updates! I'm trying to get chapters up as fast as I can. Bare with me:)
I took off in a run towards the harsh sound that echoed off the trunks.
I dodged vines, rocks with moss covering them, and tree branches. If a gun went off, Grey was spotted which meant my mother could be injured as well.
I bit my tongue when a sharp branch slashed my upper arm when the cloak flew backwards at the speed I was going.
I wasn't sure if I was more worried about my mother or Grey. Surely even a Beast wasn't prone to bullets. Though he is rash and rough around the edges, Grey has yet to do anything that would actually harm me. Sure, he has threatened me harm, but he has yet to lay a hand on me.
Maybe it was just because ever since I was given back my memories, I miss my childhood friend, but it hurt me to think of him being harmed.
But if my mother was hurt in anyway, there was no doubt in my mind this sudden surge of loyalty towards Grey would disappear as fast as it appeared.
All in all, any sort of thought left my mind when the sight of the large gray wolf laying on the forest floor came into sight. I looked around me cautiously, for the forest was deadly quiet, the sharp crack of the bullet stunning the lively area.
"Grey?" I whispered loudly into the open air. I continued to survey my surroundings as I inched closer to the too still body. When I reached him, I fell on my knees in front of him.
His moonlited eyes rolled towards my face.
"They saw you?" I ran my hand over his fur to see where he was injured but I saw nothing.
"No, they saw a deer." His voice was loud and clear in my head which at first frightened me but a calming feeling overcame me at remembering the many years communicating like this with him. "The bullet ricocheted off it's antler and hit me in the side. Bad aim, if I've ever seen it."
More like bad luck, I thought while surveying the area once more. Something wet clung to my fingertips as I nonchalantly ran my hands over Grey once more.
It was then that I saw the steady stream of blood seeping into the green floor underneath him. He was too large for me to turn over on my own, no matter how hard I tried. He groaned in protest, repeatedly telling me to stop.
"Who shot the gun?" I was trying to think of anything to get my mind off this conflicting issue. If he died, I was free. And if he died, I lost another childhood friend.
"I don't know, Poppy. I was a little preoccupied." Grey moaned in pain as he tried to stand. He collapsed before he could get a paw steady. "It might have been your mother, though."
"Don't hurt her," I found myself saying with earnest and a little too quickly to give off that that was the main thing on my mind.
His eyes locked with mine again and it was like I could see the man inside those eyes. I wasn't sure who he was supposed to be in his rightful form. Was he really the wolf, the man his costume? Or was he the man, the wolf his disguise to scare off those too timid to see beneath it?
"Poppy," Grey croaked, his eyes rolling slightly in the back of his head. I felt the motherly instinct to wrap my arms around him and hold me together. "I can feel the bullet moving to my lungs."
"What do you want me to do?" I asked, feeling the hysteria creeping up my throat. "Tell me what to do."
Before he could say a single word, I spotted them again. The search party walked the dirt path manmade for hikers below the clift, guns aimed. A scolding voice rang through the trees.
"I told you not to shoot anything, Sarah!" The man said through a clenched jaw. "Now they could know we are here. Do you want to find your daughter or not?" The voice was Jonathan Andrews. And I wanted to punch him in the face for speaking to my worried mother like that.
"I thought maybe--"
"I don't want to hear it," Mr. Andrews interrupted. "We have been at it for days, Sarah. She may as well be as good as gone."
"Don't say that!" My mother shouted as the group gathered around her. "She is out here. I know it. I feel it!" I could hear the tears clogging her throat and it made tears appear in my eyes as well. "We keep looking."
Grey felt it, I know he did. He tried stranding again as my body started to levitate towards the words of my mother but he fell to the ground with a weak whine. All eyes turned back to us and out of habit, I ducked.
I laid eye to eye with the Beast whom was being hunted. His black nose, the size of my two fist clasped together, nudged the grass to keep himself from howling in pain. His round eyes peered deeply into mine and that's when I heard his words.
"Don't leave me."
I had a choice to make here. I could stand up and leave, leaving Grey no more harmed than he already was in the process. I could roll down this hill and hug my mother to me like I desperately wished to do. I could make up a story on how I got lost and then injured and that's what kept me from coming home.
Another shot rang through the air.
Or I could help this wolf who had the ability to change into a man when he wishes to and keep him alive. Or at least stay with him until the life drained out of his moon shaped eyes to keep him comfortable. No one, good or bad, deserved to be alone while in pain.
My stupid, stupid, self chose to stay with the dying wolf.
There wasn't a doubt in my mind that I would regret this but I couldn't stop the sad pull of my heartstrings at the look in Grey's eyes as he pleaded with me not to leave him.
A hand grasped my shoulder making me nearly shriek if it wasn't for the other hand that covered my mouth. I turned on my back to see the hand belonged to Jack, his beard nearly covering a turned down mouth.
"They are gone," he said with his eyes on Grey. "I distracted them in the other direction. What has happened."
It didn't dawn on me until my eyes watched the retreating bodies move down the path that only I could answer that question seeming I am the only one who understands Grey in his wolf form.
Jack took his hand from my mouth. "He was shot."
"Did they see him? Did they see you? Come one girly, speak!"
"Y-yes," I stuttered. "I mean, no." He didn't need to hear about the pond. "The bullet hit him in the right side. It is traveling to his lungs. He will have a punctured lung if we can't get it out of him." I turned my attention back to the burly man and injured wolf. "I can get it out of him if we can get back to the den."
The lumberjack just stared at me.
I roll my eyes for real this time. "I am going to school to be a veterinarian. I know what I am doing."
"Tell him to listen to you, Little Flower." This came from Grey who tore my attention away from the faceoff with the man.
"He says to listen to me."
"Of course he did," Jack said. He ran a hand over his face and thinks for a minute. "There's no way we can carry him back to my place or his when he's in his wolf form."
Grey was currently the size of my car and Jack was right, there was no way we could move him.
"Tell him to give me it," Grey told me, his voice hoarse and quiet.
"Give you what?" I asked him.
Jack watched us exchange words, me speaking and Grey just looking at me.
"It's fine, Red. I won't feel pain right away when I shift. Remember? My body doesn't understand the transformation. Now, tell him." Every word Grey spoke, the more raspy they became.
I didn't get a word in before Jack nudged me aside and knelt down beside Grey.
"What are you giving him?" I questioned as I watched Jack pull out a vile from his leather pack in front of his belt. "What is that?"
"Aconitum."
I said nothing, not understanding, as I watched Jack put the glass bottle to the wolf's lips, allowing a single drop to drip from the vile. Instantly, Grey's body started to convulse. I backed up with horror filled eyes. Grey's body shifted back to his human form all the while he sputtered and foamed at the mouth.
"You're killing him!" I choked out, my hand going to my mouth in horror. His twitching body will forever be engraved in my mind.
"Grab his legs," Jack instructed. He untied the cloak from around my neck and used it to cover Grey's naked body. I then stood back again in horror.
"Poppy!" When Jack caught my attention after shouting my name a few more times, he started to already lift Grey's head from the ground. "Grab his legs. We have to work fast."
I numbly walked to Grey's shaking body and grabbed his feet. Grey's wolf form was heavy, but his human form wasn't much easier to maneuver. Blood was steadily seeping from the wound in his side, pooling in the indentions of his abs. My stomach heaved when the blood slid down his skin which made a trail as we walked back to Grey's den.
It didn't even dawn on me that I wasn't blindfolded like the other times I was allowed to leave the den or the tree. All I could think about was the amount of blood Grey was losing.
"Lay him on the table," Jack instructed, already getting his head on the wooden countertop. Grey had stopped convulsing and was now deathly still. I would have asked if he was dead if it wasn't for the curse that came out of his mouth when I let his heel hit the table at the wrong angle. The feeling in his human form was beginning to activate itself.
I apologized profusely until Jack shoved a knife at me. I jumped back at the sharp point which made Jack grumble and take my hand to force it into my clasped fist.
It took a moment for me to catch my barrings. Grey groaned again on the table. The ashy tone to his once golden skin gave away how bad of a condition he was in.
You should be thrilled, Poppy, my self conscience argued with me. If he dies, you can go back to your old life. Run while you can! Don't make the same mistake twice.
"Get me some warm water and a needle and thread," I told Jack. "I will need that to stitch him up. He has lost a lot of blood so you will need to gather some more wood, as well, to keep the fire going. We have to keep his body warm, but not too warm. He can't get cold. We don't want to him to go into shock."
I moved over to the dulling fire and put the knife as close as I could to the flame to sterilize it while Jack left the den to get the supplies I needed. I remembered watching a cow give birth and afterwards my professor stitched the tear up with simple household items.
But never once did I learn how to get a bullet out of a human's ribs.
"You can do this," I chanted to myself, holding the knife in the flame for a moment longer before walking back to the table where Grey laid. I washed my hands with soap and water all while keeping the knife in one hand to not contaminate it. "Just get the bullet out. Okay? That is the key component. Get the bullet out, check for internal bleeding, and stitch him. That's it. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy."
"Poppy," Grey whispered from the table. Sweat covered his entire body and his eyes barely opened as he searched for me. "Stop talking and get this damn thing out of me. I can't breathe."
"Okay," I roughly answered. "Here goes nothing."
With a piercing scream from Grey, I made a deep cut over the bullet wound and, with pinched lips, dug my fingers into Grey's side to search for the bullet.
Grey was desperately trying to remain silent as my fingers probed under his flesh in desperation to get the intruder out of his body. It was until I felt the bone of his rib that I began to gag.
"I'm sorry, Grey. I'm so sorry. I almost got it," I continued to say over and over again as he cried out in agony.
Jack ran through the den door with the materials I needed in hand and stopped short at the vision in front of him. With a aggravated sigh that left my throat scratchy, I pulled back out and grabbed the knife. Before I could make another incision right under his right top rib, Jack's hand shot out and grabbed mine, bending my wrist back at an angle that made me drop the knife. I gasped out in pain.
"You mean to kill him, don't you girl! You've be given a chance and you mean to take it."
"No," I whelped trying to get out of his hold. He meant to break my wrist. "The bullet is too far in. I have to go at a different angle. If I don't, he will die." Surely not even the Beast was invincible.
Jack and I had a stare off until Grey growled with as much gusto as he could manage, a gurgle sound climbing up his throat and spilling red down his chin. At the sight of Grey now coughing up blood, Jack let me go. "If he stops breathing for even a second, I will make sure you live the rest of your live at the bottom of a revine. Do I make myself clear?"
I nodded, not really hearing his words because my mind was mostly focused on how quiet Grey had gotten. When I turned back to the man on the table where just this morning he had made me tea and porridge and we had had our first real conversation since the day he nearly bit my leg off and killed my Gran, Grey was pale and his eyes were closed.
I picked up the knife again and held it under the flame for as long a I felt was needed and then I went back over to Grey and sliced right below his pectoral. Grey didn't make a sound. I dug the knife deep enough that I was sure I would puncture his lung myself. I reached in and searched for the bullet.
It didn't take long before my finger clasped around a small metallic ball. I pulled it out and quickly reached for the needle and thread. There was no way for me to check for internal bleeding other than to see that the skin around the bullet hole and incision were not yet bruised. This was all up to God on whether or not Grey lived.
With blood stained, shaky hands, I stitched Grey up, making my cuts as clean as possible. When done, the adrenaline left me quickly, and I turned towards the fire and emptied my stomach.
I had really just done that. I had grabbed a bullet out of a man's body and then stitched him up like it was an everyday occurance. Knowing Grey, it probably would be.
"Where did you learn to do this?" Jack asked taking a washcloth to Grey's wound and wiping the skin clean.
"Um," I answered standing straight again, not so steadily on my feet. "I am enrolled in Vet School, like I said. I learned how to do stitches my first term."
"They are clean. You are good."
"Thank you."
Jack turned back to Grey who I have come to noticed he thought of as a son. I stayed where I was at because, even though it might be justified to the public if they ever knew what this man has done in his life, I was afraid that after all this I had killed him.
Neither one of us knew when Grey would wake up. All I knew was that he was breathing easier than before and his heart was still beating.
Jack told me he was going to go get rid of the blood trail so no one could trace Grey or myself back to his den. I expected my heart to grow heavy again but it did not. I found myself nodding in acknowledgment. While he was gone I sat on a stool beside Grey at the table.
His lashes were long and dark like soot, shadowing the tops of his cheeks in the firelight. His skin was still pale but his tanned skin shone underneath and his cheeks were becoming rosy. The only thing I dreaded now was a fever. But there was only so much I could do under the circumstances.
My eyes wandered down his muscled body, my cloak covering his lower half but leaving his well trained thigh and calf exposed. He was so strong, so handsome. He was the definition of a predator.
And I was his captive. How could I have forgotten that? I must remember that. Always.
But I was also his friend. Or at least I used to be. I am sure that if that one day never happened, I would have gladly ran away with the wolf that made me feel safe and wanted. He was my best friend then.
And he almost died today by the hand of my mother.
How ironic.
I felt eyes on my face as my own took in every hair, every inch of Grey's muscular legs. With heated cheeks, I looked back up to see Grey's eyes opened and watching me.
"You're awake," I said, trying to pull the attention off the fact that he caught me admiring the way his skin rounded over his muscles.
Suddenly, he was alert. His nose crinkled like he was catching the scent of something foul. "And you're bleeding. How did you get hurt?"
"What?" I asked alarmed. "Oh," I said remembering the accident. " I cut it on a branch as I was looking for you after I heard the gunshot."
Grey sat up, wincing but ignoring the pain. "It's deep. Let me look at it."
"No," I told him while pushing his shoulders back down to lay flat on the table. I looked at his wound with drawn eyebrows. "Grey, you're healing already."
Grey touched the stitches that I had made no more than two hours ago to see the skin was already mending together. "That's why I needed to get the bullet out," he explained while prodding the area. "It would have been stuck in there and that would have been very uncomfortable to live with."
I gaped at him and he shrugged, wincing once more. "I've been shot before."
"So you weren't dying?"
"I am not so weak to die from a little bullet."
I rolled my eyes and scooted back the stool loudly, the sound cutting through the mirage of what the day had brought.
"You're mad." He didn't say this as a question.
"How observant of you." I walked over to the water bucket and cleaned my hands again. The feeling of this man's blood scalded my skin and I had the feeling I was never going to feel clean again.
"You wished me to die then?" This was a question and when I looked over my shoulder, Grey's feet were dangling over the table that I was sure the blood would never come out of.
"No," I answered honestly.
Yes, I wished you to die, is what I should have said. You have hurt me, hurt the people I loved, and scare me more than I can fathom.
I sighed, looked into the fire, and instead said, "I was worried."
I didn't understand any of this. How could I care for someone who took me away from my family, from my life, against my will? Was this stockholm syndrome? Was I going insane? Was this just old childhood feelings coming to surface that made me care so much?
"Thank you."
My head snapped in his direction.
Grey stood on his feet and walked up to me. Reaching down, he lifted me by my shoulders and looked deeply into my eyes. "Thank you, Poppy. Who knows," he shrugged again and this time, he felt no discomfort, for his wound was barely noticeable under the crosses I made in his skin. "Maybe you did save my life."
The tips of his fingers skimmed my cheek before proceeding into my hairline by my ear. He twirled a strand of my red hair around a single finger. By how calm he looked, he had to be in shock from nearly bleeding out. He was always scowling, always brooding with hate towards the world he is magically apart of. But now, his eyes were soft and there was a relaxed smile gracing his usually pouted lips.
He has said my name today more than he has since he tricked me from my bedroom. A small place in my heart that I thought died on the day he nearly dragged me into the woods, warmed.
"You're welcome, Grey."
Maybe he was telling me thank you for getting the bullet out. Maybe he was telling me thank you for staying with him when I had all the motive to leave. Either way, for a second, I saw the wolf that played tea party with me and let me place flowers in his fur during those summer days.
I saw my Grey.
And that terrified me more than seeing the Beast.