The Found One

Chapter 13

Izzy POV

She flinched as hands landed on her upper arms, a small yelp leaving her.

"Are you hurt?"

His voice was low and even, but even to her untrained ear she could hear the intensity, the rolling emotions underneath it.

Slowly she peeled her eyelids open to find him standing in front of her, his chest nearly brushing hers, his eyes were on the blood covering her, splattered over her shirt and pants, she could feel some of the sticky wetness on her face.

His hands were gentle as they held her, and she let him steady her as her legs shook like Jell-O, threatening to give out from under her.

There wasn't a mark on him. Her eyes searched his face, his shoulders, his chest, bare and uncovered, he towered over her, blocking her view from the scene behind. His scent cleared some of the death from her nose. Masculine and clean, it mixed with the scent of rain and snow. She felt herself frown. How could she smell snow? Unthinkingly she glanced at the ground reassuring herself that it hadn't snowed while she had stood with her eyes closed. Nope, no snow.

She didn't even know what snow smelled like, and before that moment she wouldn't have even thought snow had a smell. But now, it filled her, bringing up flashes of blistering winds, soft downy flakes, clean white landscapes and icy mountains. She leaned closer, inhaling deeper, letting the crisp wintery scents clear the reek of dying bodies from her throat and mind.

"Izzy." The sharp tone snapped her back. Her eyes flying to meet his silver ones, concern and worry deepened his frown into a tight line. "Where are you hurt."

She had to swallow before she could speak, even then her voice was scratchy and weak. "I'm fine." She managed.

He looked down at her skeptically.

She cleared her throat, swallowing again, this time her voice came out stronger. "I'm okay, really. None of this is mine." Her hand gesturing to the blood, gagging as she did so. She needed a shower, badly.

"You aren't hurt?" He demanded.

Izzy shook her head, not trusting herself to speak as her stomach turned.

"Did they touch you?"

She didn't understand why it would matter but she wasn't up for questioning him, bile was starting to burn her throat. She shook her head.

A sharp release of breath.

Izzy flinched as Rowan's hands tightened on her arms, yanking her an inch closer to his body. Heat hit her goose bumped flesh, easing the trembles that still shook her. His scent calmed the roiling waves in her belly. She took a deep breath; she was not going to vomit!

She felt as his chest rumbled with the power of the growl, it shook against her. Looking up at his face in fear, she was relieved to find his angry hard stare pointed at someone behind her. Guilt instantly flared, no one deserved the level of menace coming from him right then. Turning her head, she saw Aus and Hayden standing a few feet behind her. Heads bowed and eyes on the ground. Another growl ripped from Rowan.

Her overwhelmed mind, jumped tracks again – struck by the realization that she wasn't scared. Flipping through the tsunami of emotions still rolling through her she searched for a scrap or trace of fear. She was standing covered in blood after being at the very center of a werewolf fight, being held by one of them, who was obviously very strong and capable of killing, who was growling and threatening his own friends, and she wasn't the least bit scared. She was nervous for sure – but for Hayden and Austin, not for herself.