Free BloodSworn by Stacey Brutger

therapy.”
    Vivid green eyes met hers. The wildness had retreated, yet
she very much felt like a mouse under a cat’s paw. Heat seeped in her pores,
but the calculated look he gave her brought back some of her sanity.
    “Get up.” She resisted touching him. It would be a mistake
as once she started, she was very much afraid she wouldn’t stop.
    Frown lines crinkled the corner of his eyes, and he levered
himself up on all fours. Trina didn’t wait, but scrambled backwards, her eyes
anywhere but on him and his now very happy dangly parts.
    “It’s safe.” The humor in his voice had her head snapping
up. He stood, the sheet tucked around his waist. He wore a slightly disgruntled
expression that looked sexy as hell and a too-knowing gaze that did things to her
body that should be illegal…or bottled.
    She scratched her eyebrow, glanced around as if she could
gather her scattered thoughts. When that didn’t work, she created a mental list
of what she needed to get done today. Too bad the first thing on the list
happened to be Merrick, but she wasn’t sure a reprieve would help any, not when
the problem was her libido.
    A heavy sigh escaped, and she dropped her arm. “Up on the
bed and lay on your stomach.”
    She retrieved her bag as he moved, grabbing a small notepad
from the contents. Though occupied, her eyes had a mind of their own, sneaking glances
as the big male prowled across the bed. But instead of taking her mind through
the gutter, okay, all the way through the gutter, she noticed the stiff movements
and the way he tried to hide it by overcompensating.
    She tightened her lips against the need to babble, but it
did no good. “Where’s my hat?”
    She was such a dork. What woman, when confronted by a naked
man like Merrick, one who made her toes curl with wicked thoughts, demanded her
clothing back?
    “It’s safe.”
    She opened her mouth to argue when he lay down, and she got
the first look at his back.
    She expected to see a wound.
    Instead, his back was peppered with badly healed entry points.
There had to be five bullet holes in all, not to mention the half dozen removal
incisions that were nothing more than ragged tears. It was like someone had used
a butter knife to cut him open.
    Then it dawned on her.
    Claws.
    And from the angle of the injuries, his own. Her throat
ached at the pain he had endured. Then she wanted to smack him for his
stubbornness in not seeking help. No doubt it was because he didn’t want to be
seen as weak in front of the pack.
    Knots of skin and muscles twisted up his spine in no
discernible pattern. It was a miracle that he was alive, let alone able to walk
at all.
    “When did you say this happened?” She was lured closer by
his body again, but more in a professional curiosity this time.
    “Six weeks.” Merrick hated the silence when she got the first
good view of his back. He refused to glance at her, unable to bear seeing her
flinch and turn away from him in disgust.
    He’d slept better last night than he had in a long time with
nearly six hours of uninterrupted sleep. He had a sinking feeling it was
because of her. It only made him more determined that she wouldn’t leave, not
until he found out exactly what was going on between them.
    When she woke him, he’d thought they were under attack.
Primal fear for her had him reacting instead of assessing the situation. The
quick movements had jarred his back, and he was now paying the price.
    He was about to push himself up on his arms and soak his
muscles in a hot shower when he felt the bed dip. Cool fingers brushed over his
shoulder, and he flinched, but not in pain. Though she barely touched him, all his
nerve endings lit up.
    “This might hurt a bit, but I need to see what type of tissue
damage you’ve sustained.”
    So saying, she scooted closer and proceeded to lay her hands
on him. At first she just randomly probed areas, and he tried not to recoil. For
a distraction, he turned his head to study her face.
    She