Free Sealed With a Curse (WG 1) by Cecy Robson Page A

against his stomach. His bowels spilled like overdone spaghetti. I’d barely gasped at the sight when a more dangerous predator blindsided me at full velocity.
    My back slammed against the wall and my eyes locked onto the fierce gaze of my opponent. “What are you?” asked the wolf with the smoldering brown eyes.

C HAPTER 8
    Oh, my God.
    The wolf pressed the weight of his powerful form against mine, his forearm glued to my chest. But the pure intensity of his presence was what held me in place. I didn’t dare shift , move, breathe. My mind froze, unable to concentrate on anything but him.
    The fierceness of his eyes softened as a phenomenal heat surged across the length of his arm and into my body, electrifying my already racing pulse. I shuddered.
    And so did he.
    The wolf abruptly released me. I stumbled, off balance and undeniably freaked out. He reached to catch me, but I staggered away.
    Blood and ash saturated his long-sleeved shirt, and a chunk of fabric hung loose over his bloody right thigh. I swallowed hard, awestruck as the damaged muscle knitted together and re-formed into new pink flesh.
    I staggered back two more steps. He followed, palms out. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered.
    His deep voice hummed with soft reassurance. I wanted to believe him, but his soaked shirt and the attack by his pack cautioned me against it. And yet despite all the danger and my growing trepidation, my tigress settled into a strange sense of calm.
    “What are you doing?” Mohawk screamed. “Kill her!”
    The wolf’s spine straightened as rigid as a steel pole. “Does she smell like a vampire?”
    Mohawk stopped his snarls, but exhaled in short, angry spurts. “No.”
    The wolf continued to watch me. “Then I will not harm her—and neither will you.”
    I didn’t know why he felt obliged to defend me. He didn’t know me. Didn’t he see I could defend myself?
    The wolf let out a breath and extended his hand. “I’m Aric Connor.”
    I gasped softly. Aric was the same wolf who had called Misha. When I stared at his palm like an idiot he slowly dropped it to his side. He eyed me a moment longer before withdrawing. The wolf I’d embedded into the wall stirred and whimpered. The Mohawk guy still anchored to the concrete spat with rage, “Watch your back, Aric!”
    Aric ignored him and the black wolf, and focused on the redhead. The wolf sat with his legs sprawled, frantically trying to stuff his bowels back into his abdomen. “Tommy. Stop . You need to quiet and focus.”
    Tommy immediately ceased his desperate efforts. His hands shook as moist intestines continued to spill over his arms and through his fingers.
    “Good. Now breathe. Slowly. Become one with your wolf and allow him to heal you.”
    Tommy trembled, but nodded and closed his eyes.Like a reverse tug-of-war, Tommy’s body pulled in his battered insides like a child sucking in long strands of pasta. It was hard to watch and hear. The bile in my stomach rose brutally, but I wouldn’t pry my eyes off my attackers.
    When the last of Tommy’s parts found their way home, a thin transparent film formed over the deep gashes. But unlike Aric’s, the skin would not seal shut. Tommy buckled onto his side, panting and sweating, onto a heap of bloodied newspapers. Aric removed his navy shirt and tied it firmly around the wolf’s lesions, leaving a small gray tee to keep him covered against the brisk night air. He clasped Tommy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. This will keep your wound closed until you’ve had time to mend.”
    Tommy nodded, curling into a protective ball. Aric left him and took in the scene. He sniffed the air, tracking the small droplets of splattered blood until they morphed into angular streaks along the corpses. He motioned to the honey blonde. “The vamp bit her first. And broke the other’s spine when she tried to flee.”
    “How…how do you know he killed the blonde f-first?” Tommy stammered.
    Aric