Home > Roman (Wolves of Winter's Edge #2)(11)

Roman (Wolves of Winter's Edge #2)(11)
Author: T.S. Joyce

“Roman,” Asher said low. He jerked his chin toward the woods.

Roman followed his gaze to a gray-mottled wolf with white paws. She was lanky, petite, with a darker gray saddle and a black nose, and those beautiful champagne-colored eyes. Mila.

“What’s a Bone-Ripper doing here?” Asher asked.

“She’s fighting an order.” Nope, he couldn’t help the pride in his voice right now. Mila, submissive, bottom of one scary-ass pack, was here in wolf form, giving two silent middle fingers to Fuckface Rhett.

The door flew open behind them, and Odine’s onyx-colored eyes trained immediately on the wolf. When she jammed a finger at Mila, she hunched down, flattening herself in the snow. Roman moved to stand between them, but Odine clipped out, “Sit and stay, Roman. I need her, too. Draw her closer, and we can fix this tonight. She’s good. Good like Gentry. Blaire needs her.” She spun to go back inside, but stopped, and turned suspicious eyes on the wolf, then cast her glance down to Roman. “You’re making her sick.”

Indeed, Mila was pacing back and forth, hackles flat, eyes empty, limping like her body hurt.

“I can take her bond from the pack,” Odine said, arching a black eyebrow in question to Roman.

Mila ran into the woods and cowered there, just on the line of trees surrounding the clearing. Clearly, she wanted nothing to do with whatever Odine was offering.

Roman stood and blocked the witch’s view of Mila. “Fuck with her, and I’ll gut you, Psychodine. I’ll be the one fixing her bonds if she wants that.”

A curious and bone-chilling grin took Odine’s face. “I believe you, Young Blood.” She tapped her temple and winked. And then she turned and bustled into her cabin. Inside, she made her way to a table where Blaire and Gentry were laid beside each other like two corpses. Without anyone touching it, the door slammed closed.

When he turned around, Mila was right there, just a few feet away from him, shaking, belly low in the snow, smelling like pain, but she wasn’t running anymore.

She was here, close to him, even though it made her sick to disobey a direct order just so she could help Blaire.

Odine was right. She was good. Mila was so much more than he’d ever realized.

Roman wanted to pet her to see if her fur was as soft as it looked, or if was coarse like his own. Being closer to her would hurt her, though, so he climbed up to the top step beside Asher and leaned his back on the door. The draw of energy was so much worse here, but it was worth it if he could make Mila a fraction more comfortable.

And inside him, a big realization was happening.

As he stared at the wolf lying in the snow, he knew with certainty he would do anything to make her life easier. This was huge. Mila was the only person whose well-being he’d worried about over his own.

He was a survivor. Survivors were concerned with their own safety first, but not this time. He would take a bullet if it kept her safe from the reach of Rhett and the Bone-Rippers.

A storm is coming, the woods whispered. It was Odine’s voice he heard, but a quick glance at Asher’s passive face said it was all in Roman’s head.

Lucky Mila. She’d earned the fealty of a psychopath.

The door opened so suddenly Roman fell backward. Since he felt like shit, he stayed there on the floor, arms spread like a starfish. Odine stood above him. “Is Blaire okay?” he asked.

“They both are.”

“Good, I’m glad Mila wasn’t here for that long.” What had possessed him to say that out loud?

Odine rested her hands on her hips and angled her face as she stared down at him. “She’s been lending me power for two hours Roman. Where was your head at?”

Roman sat straight up. “No, she just got here.” Surely, he didn’t just stare at her pretty wolf for two fucking hours.

Odine arched one eyebrow. “I’m tired, and you all need to eat and get some rest. Take your brother and the white wolf and go. She’ll need to Change as soon as she feels strong enough.”

“And Gentry?” Asher asked. He was hunched over weakly, his face hollow.

Odine stood to the side and gestured to Gentry, standing on his own two feet, lifting his mate off the table. He cradled her close to his chest and rocked her gently, murmuring something too low for Roman to make out. It was such an intimate moment that Roman wanted to look away, but couldn’t. Gentry really loved her. The real kind of love Roman hadn’t believed in until now. Until his own heart had started beating the moment Mila had told him, “You’re going to get me hurt,” in the Four Horsemen. It was the moment she flipped it on him. It was the moment she’d made the game real, because his protective instincts over her had reared up and urged him to burn the Bone-Rippers to ashes just because they scared her.

Mila stood weakly and limped off to the edge of the woods, and there she stayed, watching Roman like he was everything. Like she couldn’t look away from him. What was happening to them? To him?

Roman ripped his gaze away from her. “Asher, you look like a corpse.”

“I need meat,” his oldest brother said in a hoarse voice as he stood, clutching the railing.

“That’s what she said,” Roman muttered. Geez he must’ve been drained. He didn’t even feel like laughing at his own joke right now.

With Blaire folded in his arms, Gentry stepped around Roman, and wordlessly, he made his way to the Jeep. At the edge of the forest, Mila cried out. She’d Changed back, but apparently not on purpose. She had no clothes, and Roman could see the gooseflesh all over her skin from here. God, even bowed into herself she was beautiful. Flawless, pale skin, perfect curves, hair wild in the wind.

   
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