Jennifer Ashley: Wild Wolf

Misty knelt next to Graham, who had closed his eyes again. “Don’t go to sleep,” she said sternly. “You lost a lot of blood. You need to stay awake.”

“Shifter metabolism is different from a humans’,” Graham said without opening his eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

“Then you need to stay awake to keep me from worrying about you. It’s my fault you’ve been shot, so I need you to live.”

Graham’s eyes opened a slit. “How is this your fault? You didn’t pull the trigger.”

“You getting mixed up in my problems, that’s my fault.” Misty hugged her arms across her chest, her shirt sweat-soaked and dirty. “I gave Sam Flores your number.”

“That was smart. Stupid human thought I’d bring Paul out here so he could be ambushed and killed.” Graham’s brows drew together. “Too stupid. Something’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong is I need to warn Paul. If Sam tracks him down, he’s screwed.”

“Let’s make sure we’re not screwed first, all right? It will take Dougal a while to find civilization. Good thing Shifters heal fast.”

Graham already sounded a little stronger, but when Misty took his hand again, his grip was slack. “All that with Dougal—making him take out the bullet and then sending him for help—you did that so he wouldn’t be scared.”

Graham’s grin cracked through dirt on his face. “Yeah, you caught me.”

“Will he be all right?”

“Probably. He’s been through a lot, and he’s learned to be tough. Poor cub got stuck with me to bring him up. I’m the alpha of the alphas, but Dougal’s not that dominant. Other cubs gave him hell for it when he was growing up, and my pack still does. He’s the natural choice to be my successor, but they know he’s not strong. The minute I drop dead, they’ll be all over him trying to throw him out and take over.”

Misty’s mouth popped open. “That’s terrible.”

Graham shrugged. “It’s a Shifter thing. They won’t touch him while I’m around, and I’m coming up with ideas to keep him safe. But having to fight back all the time has made Dougal stronger.”

Misty squeezed Graham’s big hand. “You’re good to take care of him.”

“He’s my sister’s son. I didn’t have a choice. That’s another Shifter thing.”

“I bet you did have a choice. You could have had someone in your pack help you with him, right? You did it yourself because you felt sorry for him. You were being nice.”

Graham gave her a faintly startled look before his grin appeared again. “Don’t tell anyone, all right? I’ve got a rep.”

“You’re nice to me,” Misty said, stroking his shoulder.

“Because you’re sexy as hell.”

He was joking. Graham always joked. In all the time she’d known him, he was either yelling at someone or joking with them. A serious talk was not something Graham did.

Also, in the eight months Graham and Misty had been going out, he’d never made any move to take Misty to bed. He’d kissed her . . . Wow, had he kissed her. Blood-sizzling, she-could-have-an-orgasm-just-kissing-him kisses. But nothing more.

Mostly Graham took her to clubs, like Coolers, or to out-of-the-way restaurants and bars that allowed Shifters. Other Shifters were always present at these sort-of dates, and much of the time, Misty had to drive herself to meet him there. Graham was very attentive during the dates, sitting with his arm around her, interested in her talk about her day and her opinions on whatever they discussed. When the date was over, he’d walk her to her pickup, kiss her good night, and wait until she drove safely out of the parking lot. Then she’d go home—alone.

Misty had been to Graham’s house, where he lived with Dougal, but Graham had never let Misty go to the fight club—an unofficial arena where Shifters battled it out with each other for fun. Misty also never stayed the night with Graham, and he’d never been inside her house, though he knew where she lived. He’d come to her flower shop once, but only once—some customers had been reluctant to enter when he’d been there. Graham had decided he shouldn’t scare away Misty’s business, and never went back.

They’d never talked about their relationship. Graham didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who wanted to discuss relationships. Misty was afraid he’d start ignoring her altogether if she brought it up.

Misty had her own friends now in Shiftertown, like the party-happy Shifter girl Lindsay, and Cassidy, a wildcat who was the sister of the Shiftertown leader. Lindsay, the font of all Shifter gossip, told Misty Graham wasn’t seeing anyone else, so that wasn’t the cause of the distance he kept with her. He wasn’t gay either . . . that fact would be all over Shiftertown too.

Graham might die today. The sun was reaching its zenith, the shade from the shed narrowing to a sliver. In a few minutes, it would be gone altogether.

“Stay with me, Graham,” Misty said, massaging his shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

The shade disappeared. The sun burned down on them, beating through Misty’s thin tank top. She was in shorts too, which she wore when getting deliveries ready to go in the mornings, and the sun was hot on her skin.

Misty had lived in southern Nevada long enough to know what over a hundred degrees felt like, and this was it. It might get up to a hundred and ten today, and possibly higher than that. Out here, the temperature of the desert floor could rise to a hundred and twenty and more.

“We need shade,” Misty said.

“No kidding,” was Graham’s helpful answer. “Not in that shed. Don’t feel like lying on a rusty nail right now.”

Blood poisoning would finish him. There was only so much even Shifters could take.

A nice cool cave with an underground spring would be perfect. That was too much to hope for, but the mountain they were up against might have a niche or something out of the sun. The mining shaft was out, even if it hadn’t been filled in. Old shafts were dangerously unstable and full of vertical shafts that could drop hundreds of feet.

Misty had done enough desert hiking to know that rocks in shade absorbed coolness overnight, and gave off that coolness during the day. Even on the hottest afternoons, a niche that had stayed in shadow all morning could be twenty degrees lower than the rocks just outside it.

Misty squeezed Graham’s shoulder again. “I’m going to look for shade. I don’t like to move you, but I don’t want to watch you burn to a crisp either.”

“I’m worried about you more.” Graham reached for her hand, his brows drawing down. “Humans die fast in the heat.”

“I’m not that delicate. I’ll be right back. Don’t go away.”

“You are that delicate. And you think you’re funny too.”

Misty leaned down and gave him a soft kiss across his cracked lips, her own as dry. Graham could barely move his mouth in response.

When Misty lifted her head, she saw a flash of naked emotion in Graham’s eyes. Need, longing, loneliness, the weight of his position as alpha. On top of that, a tenderness for her.

Misty stilled a moment, soaking it in. She’d never seen any kind of sentiment in Graham for her. Liking yes, and he’d charged out here to rescue her today, but she’d never seen this flash of stark feeling.

She hated that this might be the last time she saw it. If he died today . . .

Misty wouldn’t let him. She kissed Graham one more time then rose and brushed herself off. Graham watched her, still frowning. “You be careful, understand me?” he rumbled.

“I will.”

“If I have to come looking for you, I’ll be pissed off.”

“I know.” She sent him another smile. “Be right back.”

Graham didn’t answer. He moved a little, grunting in pain, but Misty made herself walk away from him.