Page 46 of Embers

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“Looks like he’s hit his head pretty hard.” Tanner reaches for his pack and pulls out a medical kit. “I’ll clean it up, but he’ll need to rest a while. We better set up camp.”

No time. We don’t have time. Kole’s voice sends a shiver through me.

Tanner can’t hear him, but he must feel the urgency vibrating on Kole’s skin because he looks up and says, “We’ll move quicker if we wait for him to wake up. The alternative is to make a stretcher and carry him.” Tanner glances at Luther’s bulky frame. “And I’m not sure I’m up for that. Are you?”

For a moment, Kole looks like he might be seriously considering this as an option, but then he shakes his head and stalks back off into the undergrowth.

I’m about to go after him when I glance at Luther. I’m reluctant to leave him. My head knows he’ll be fine, but my body is telling me to stay.

“I’ll talk to Kole.” Sam nods at me as if he can read the dilemma on my face. “I’ll tell Mack to come this way. Find some wood to use as kindling.” Before he leaves, he brushes his lips across mine. The softness of his kiss, and the way it sends sparks of electricity pulsing through my skin, still takes me by surprise. I squeeze his hand. “Tell Kole we’ll get moving as soon as we can.”

But, despite Tanner’s best efforts, Luther remains unconscious until just before nightfall. When he opens his eyes, he finds me first and tries to sit up.

“It’s okay. You banged your head. We’re camping here tonight.” I look around at the others. Luther follows my gaze. He lifts a hand to his head. “Tanner stitched you up, but you’ll have a mean looking scar if you’re lucky.”

Again, Luther tries to sit up. Kole helps him, and he leans back against the fallen tree trunk we’ve been using as a wind break.

“What happened to you?” Luther croaks, taking in Mack’s makeshift sling.

“Dislocated shoulder.”

Again, Luther touches the wound on his head.

“So much for science, huh?” I tease quietly, handing him a bottle of water.

“Never was a particularly good nerd,” Luther replies, taking the water and downing three huge gulps that make his throat throb. “Where are we?” he asks when he’s finished.

Kole pulls a map from his pack. Out here, our cells are all but useless. “Here.” Kole jabs his thick index finger at the map. “Commune’s here.” He points further north. “A four-hour trek.”

“We’ll leave at first light.” Mack pats Luther’s shoulder. “Get some rest.”

For a moment, Luther looks like he’s going to object, but then he closes his eyes again and is gone.

* * *

By the timethe sun sets, the temperature is dropping, an ominous mist is creeping through the trees and, even with the fire and my jacket, I’m starting to shiver.

Mack is sitting behind me. He rubs my arms then says, “I have a better way to keep you warm.” Standing up, looking at Tanner, he says, “Help me take these off.”

Tanner frowns.

Mack tugs one arm free from his hoodie but the other is in the sling. “Tanner? Help me with this?” His tone sends a shiver through me. A different kind of shiver this time.

“Yes, Sir,” Tanner smiles.

Without asking why, Tanner helps Mack undress. When his clothes are gone— all of them—Mack stands in front of me and shakes his arms. He winces as he moves his injured shoulder.

I raise my eyebrows. Even in the cold, his length is impressive. But I’m not sure I can stand the thought of getting naked with him in weather like this, even if he does look good enough to eat.

With another shake, Mack’s jaw twitches. His head moves from side to side. Now I get it; he’s going to shift.

The others get it, too. At the same time, we stand and move back to give Mack some room. His muscles bulge, his shoulders grow larger, his limbs crack and jerk as they change. I glance at Sam. He’s watching Mack closely.

“I’ve never seen a bear shift before,” he whispers.

As Mack’s shoulder jerks up and takes on a new shape, he roars. It’s not a human roar. It’s a growl. Loud enough to make my core hum with the ferocity of it.

Finally, Mack’s gone, and Snow is in his place. The big white bear huffs loudly. A cloud of warm air blooms from his nostrils. He fixes his dark eyes on me, makes a noise I can’t quite interpret, then sits down hard on the floor. Growling again—more of a yawn this time—he rolls onto his side and looks up at me.


Tags: Cara Clare Fantasy