Chapter 5: My Blood’s on Your Hands

*MIRA’S POV*

Despite his injured state, the man's sculpted form and chiseled features made him appear almost otherworldly.

Duke whined and licked one of the man’s many injuries. The injury on the left side of his chest was bleeding heavily. Was that a gunshot? I sat back in fear and astonishment.

What kind of cowboy mafia sh*t was this guy involved in? I wondered if I should turn and run.

But noting Duke's surprisingly friendly behavior towards the stranger, I kneeled beside him cautiously with fear coursing through me. Was he dead?

"Hello?" I whispered, my voice trembling. “Oh dear god, please don’t be dead.” I whimpered, reaching out to feel for a pulse.

I was stopped, frozen with fear at what sounded like a growl. The man’s cold blue eyes snapped open and his hand reached up, snatching my own from his neck.

For a second, I could have sworn that I saw claws where fingernails should have been.

I started to scream, but the man, still staring at me in confusion, sat up, placing his free hand over my mouth.

“Don’t scream. They will hear you,” he strained to whisper, falling back again in pain.

“Who are they? What the h*ll happened to you?” I asked, as he removed his hand from my mouth.

I pulled my flannel shirt off and pressed it against his bleeding chest.

“Listen to me! You shouldn’t be here. Leave, now," he admonished, his breath hitching in pain as he grabbed the gaping wound. But I couldn't abandon someone in need, no matter the danger.

"I’m not leaving you here," I responded, my voice steady despite the tremor within. "Let me help you."

His brows furrowed and his lips parted as if to protest, but his body betrayed his weakness. I held both of his large hands in mine and, with Duke by my side, helped him to his feet.

Together, we stumbled toward my van, every step taken with the knowledge that danger may be lurking in the nearby trees.

The man was massively tall and thickly muscled. But as much as he tried to move independently, his horrific injuries wouldn’t allow it.

“Don’t be stubborn, let me help you,” I stated firmly.

I placed his arm over my shoulder and leaned all of my tiny mass into him, willing him to stay upright.

After a painstaking eternity, I saw my van ahead of us in the distance.

“That’s my car,” I encouraged him. “We’re almost there.”

A howl rang out nearby, chilling me to my core.

“They’ve picked up our scent!” the man cried. “Leave me here! Run!”

He let go of my shoulder and tried to push me towards the van.

Duke began to bark and growl, placing himself between us and the trees. Whoever they were, they were getting close.

“No. I've already told you, I am not leaving you, so you better keep moving, or my blood is on your hands,” I insisted, unsure as to where my sudden fearless determination had come from.

He sighed heavily and then with great effort, limped his way toward the van, finally collapsing into the passenger seat.

Trying not to panic, I slammed the door shut behind him and sprinted towards the driver's side of the car.

“Duke, come!” I screamed, afraid to look up and see what it was that he was barking at so angrily. “Duke! Come!” I cried again desperately as I started the van's engine.

Much to my relief, at the last second, Duke leapt over me and into the van just as I revved its engine. The wheels kicked up dirt and gravel as we sped away.

I forced my eyes to look in my rear view mirror and saw a pack of wolves right behind us, nipping at our heels.

“What the f*ck!?” I gasped, horrified.

I pressed harder on the gas pedal, maxing out the van’s speed and finally putting distance between us and the wolves.

What the h*ll had just happened? Why had I insisted on helping an absolute stranger? He could be dangerous. If he wasn't dangerous whoever was looking for him certainly was by the looks of the bullet wound in his body…

And why in the world were we just being chased by wolves? I had to be dreaming, right? I willed myself awake from this nightmare, but nothing happened. This was very real. I glanced over at the stranger.

My questioning eyes met his for a brief second.

His cold blue gaze was mesmerizing and looked strangely familiar...

But I couldn’t focus on that now. I needed to get him somewhere safe.

I turned up the road toward the ranger’s station to seek help.

***

The man roused as I hit the brakes upon arriving at the ranger’s station.

“I’m going to find a ranger to help us," I explained, throwing the gear into park.

“No!” he objected, his hand grasping my arm as I went to climb out of the van.

“You need medical attention,” I argued, explaining the obvious. “Maybe they can get you into a helicopter or someting and to a hospital.”

If not, he would surely die.

“No rangers, no hospital. Please!” he insisted, his voice straining.

“Great,” I sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re a wanted criminal?”

A ranger spotted my van and began to make his way toward us.

“Please, it's not safe for you. You've got to get us out of here,” he pleaded.

His grasp on my arm tightened, not out of violence, but out of desperation. Who or what was after him?

I couldn't seem to think straight with him touching me. My eyes looked at him, trying to process what had just happened.

I blushed as my gaze drifted below his abdomen. Okay but seriously, why was he naked?

“Please, you saved my life. I’ll never forgive myself if they find you because of me.”

I didn’t even realize that I had obeyed him without question until we pulled out onto the highway…

****

*TRAE’S POV*

For whatever reason, the girl finally relented and backed out of the parking spot just as I blacked out.

When I awoke, we were over a hundred miles south of the rangers station. Hopefully far enough from danger, for now…

As the car sped down the desolate road, pain pulsed through my body with every beat of my heart. My hand tightly clutched my chest, where the silver bullet was lodged.

“Pull over. We've got to get this bullet out of me,” I blurted, still fading in and out of consciousness.

“And how do you propose we do that without any medical supplies?” stated the girl. Her face was riddled with fear and anxiety.

“Do you have a knife?” I asked.

“You can’t be serious, right?” She turned to look at me. “You are serious. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! I’ve rescued a hardened criminal!” she exclaimed, spiraling into a full blown panic.

I hissed in pain and wondered how to calm her down.

“I promise you, I am not a hardened criminal. Quite the opposite in fact,” I insisted, growing so weak that even forming the words was a battle.

“So, you're a good guy?” she asked with a squeak, her voice hopeful.

“Yes,” I answered, honestly looking into her jewel green eyes. “What's your name?”

“Mira." replied the girl.

“It's nice to meet you, Mira. My name is Trae,” I managed to croak, my voice barely audible now. "Can you please pull over? We really need to take care of this."

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. I could see the fear in her eyes, mirroring my own.

But I had too much to live for and time was slipping away.

I couldn't afford to wait. The silver bullet had to be removed, and quickly. I reached out and took hold of her trembling hand, my touch a plea for her help.

"Mira, I understand how scared you are. But you saved my life back there, and now, I need your help to keep me alive," I whispered, my voice desperate. "You have a pocket knife, right? I saw it when you found me in the woods. Please, give it to me. I'll do it myself if I have to."

To my relief, she pulled the van off of the road, then reluctantly reached into her pocket and handed me the small, silver blade. I could feel her hesitation, her doubt lingering in the air.

With trembling fingers, I removed her bloody flannel and exposed the wound, steeling myself for what lay ahead.

As I pressed the cold metal of the pocket knife against my skin, a jolt of pain shot through me. I bit down hard on my lip to stifle a howl. The silver blade sliced through the flesh, and I winced as blood mingled with its toxic touch.

But that was not the end of my torment.

As the bullet tumbled out, its metallic glint glistening in the fading light, I realized something was terribly wrong. Encased within the bullet was a sinister substance, a deadly coating of wolfsbane. My heart sank, and my body trembled with a new sense of urgency.

"Mira!" I gasped, panic lacing every word. "This bullet... it's been poisoned. It's killing me. I need a healer!"

Her eyes widened in terror and confusion. “So you do want to go to a hospital after all?” she asked.

“No, I need a healer…” I started to explain then stopped myself.

I searched her eyes. If she learned that I was a wolf, then I'd have to kill her.

Her eyebrow raised as if in understanding and she seems to relax somewhat.

“A healer… Okay then, I know just the person,” she nodded. “But first, let’s cover up that wound.”

“What?” I asked the fog consuming my mind again as she tied something around my torso.

“My Grandmother was a total hippie, into alternative medicine and all that… I'll take you to her healer if your silly *ss won’t go to the hospital. It's better than nothing I guess.”

And with that, we sped off once more.