Wolf's Wife (Monstrous Hearts #1)

Chapter Three

Alice didn't remember falling asleep. Instead, she opened her eyes and saw the fireplace had gone cold and gray with ashes. Muscles stiff from hours on the floor, she pushed herself up with a wince before looking over to the wolf. Or, to where the wolf had been. Muddy, bloody blankets lay crumpled on the floor. Alice blinked and reached out, unable to believe it. When her fingers found only fabric and air, she stumbled to her feet and opened the nearest curtains, flooding the area with watery light and the reality that she was the only living thing in the room.

Muddy tracks led away from the blankets, and fresh confusion filled her mind while she took in their shape. Not a wolf's paw pads. Not any type of animal's at all. They were human footprints, from someone who was — she nudged her own shoe-clad foot beside the tracks to check — notably bigger than her.

Background noise slid into her senses. The faucet from the kitchen sink was running. Alice could hear the clang of the pipes beneath the floor and the splashing of water. She grabbed a piece of firewood, holding it like a club, and inched toward the kitchen, her steps beside the footprints.

A man stood at the sink, naked and calm as he washed his face. Streaks of dried mud covered most of his skin, and matted hair hung by his ears as water dripped down his dark beard. Alice recognized him even before sharp green eyes glanced over at her. The man in the camper van.

Her fingers twitched against the log while the man turned back to the sink, every line of his body suggesting a complete lack of shame. "So. Do the brothers ever catch the sun and the moon? You didn't say."

Alice sucked in a breath. The reference to the story she'd told the wolf and no one else, how footprints had walked away from the wolf's place by the fire... Her gaze fell on the man's chest, muddy as the rest of him. There was a patch of clean skin just below one collarbone, and a shiny pink scar shaped like a bullet hole.

She should deny it. Protest that she wasn't crazy enough to believe the man who had helped her was also the wolf she had held vigil over. From the twist of his mouth, he certainly expected her to. But Alice only stared while he straightened up and turned toward her. His eyes weren't as yellow as when he'd been a wolf, but they held the same feral gleam.

Something ran through Alice while she pointed the piece of wood at him, but it wasn't fear. "If you want to kill me, let's get it over with."

"If I'd wanted to kill you, you'd have never woken up." His hand brushed the water from his scruffy jaw with a soft rasp.

Impossible to tell from that hard face and dark voice whether he spoke a lie or a truth. All Alice could do was decide and trust that decision. She blinked and took in his features. Tall and long-limbed with lean muscle. Powerful instead of wiry. But his ribs showed like he starved more often than not. She noted how his fingers shook, and the pallor of his skin against his dark hair. He had survived but that didn't make him well.

With a sigh, she let the hand with the log fall to her side. "A shower would be faster, you know. The left faucet is cold water and the right faucet is hot. There's already soap and shampoo in there."

His eyes gave away his thoughts even though his expression remained blank. Surprise and suspicion fighting with a temptation to accept.

"There are spare clothes in the attic, too. I'll bring down any that'll fit and then get you something to eat. Or do you want to leave and hunt out in that rain?" As if emphasizing her words, a gust thrashed the trees outside, pummeling the roof with water.

The wolf glanced out the window and then back at her. "You're handling it better than most."

"I don't have normal fears. And I'm plenty crazy in other ways, too. Take as much time as you need."