Free Sorcha's Wolf by Billi Jean Page B

Seven

    Alex staggered to his feet, his head swimming and every inch of his body on fire—including his broken wrist and what felt like several broken ribs.
    Sorcha had tossed him off the side of a mountain!
    He’d trusted her. He’d given her a bit of freedom and she’d rewarded him by shoving him off a cliff. He swiped the blood out of his left eye and twisted his head left and right until his neck cracked. His wrist was already healing. His ribs knitted together with each breath.
    She’d forgotten one thing in her temper tantrum.
    He had the antidote.
    Or he had had the antidote. His pack had been ripped off somewhere on the side of the sheer rock face she’d sent him over. Had she thought of that? Hell no. The witch would though, he thought eyeing the hundred-foot climb. The question was, should he fetch the pack or the witch?
    The guidelines for her antidote had been clear. Twice a day. Once at night. So far, he’d not let her feel the effects of missing those parameters. He’d been too soft. He’d been too overwhelmed with her beauty, he saw that now.
    This changed everything. Not even his constant need of her stood in his way now. He’d tie her up like a goose and carry her slung over his shoulder for the rest of the time it took to reach the meeting place. Then he’d hand her to the mage and maybe, just possibly, take her home after he killed the bastard.
    Decided, he breathed in deeply, finding her scent within seconds. She’d headed north. Why north? Why not back south to a town and possibly people to aid her? He glanced at the ground and spotted her footprints. He touched his head only then feeling a cloth she’d wrapped around his forehead. He pulled it off and realised it was part of her T-shirt. She’d come here, checked him then left him?
    He glanced back at the spot where he’d risen and found another cloth, bright red with his blood and wet from where she’d cleaned his wounds.
    Didn’t matter. Her kindness didn’t matter. Hell, he needed her. He couldn’t go to the meeting without her and the first check was tomorrow.
    He was within days of his revenge. Of avenging his family’s death. He needed her for that.
    The evidence of her tending his wounds baffled him. He didn’t understand her, but he was going to make her understand one thing.
    Nothing came in the way of his revenge .

    * * * *

    The wilderness of Sorcha’s home wasn’t the same without her power.
    Everything worked against her. A twig snapped behind her sending her heart racing harder. She looked over her shoulder to see only the dimness of a moonlit forest and twisted her foot in a hole. The pain dragged a muffled groan from her before she landed hard on her hands and knees.
    In the distance, she heard a sharp howl, followed by another. Dogs. At one time, she could have communicated with them. Hell, two days ago she could have. Not now. Now she struggled back to her feet and took off at the painful lope she’d managed off and on now for what seemed like hours.
    There’d been no sign of Alex following her. He’d been breathing when she’d found him, but he’d had blood on his forehead and more on his side. She’d cleaned both wounds before binding his head in case it didn’t stop bleeding, then she’d raced off. One of the strongest of all immortals, the Lykae could regenerate even a missing hand or foot. Broken bones were like splinters to them.
    Curse them all .
    Not that she wanted him to suffer. She’d realised that, staring at his unconscious face. He’d been so silent, warm and heavy in her arms, but she didn’t want him gone from this world. She didn’t want to see him cold and hollow with death.
    She also didn’t want to see him ever again. Right?
    Absolutely.
    He’d shown himself to be just like those other beasts. Threatening her with using his manhood to silence her? The jerk. He was lucky she didn’t have this potion figured out because when she did, she just might spell his impressive package to