Unbound

Chapter 1

The day was dragging. Slowly. With only one visitor to the clinic that morning so far, I found myself pacing, counting my steps as I moved back and forth across the exam room, counting floorboards, counting ceiling tiles – anything to keep me from counting the seconds. I took stock and reorganized the medicine cabinet, then the cleaning supplies. We were low on cotton balls. I made a note of it.

I hated days like this, being left by myself with little to do. I was much happier on days when the clinic was busy, humming with energy, rushing between exam rooms and working as a part of the team. A part of the pack. But on these quiet days, I couldn't help feeling anxious. Today in particular, I had a pit in my stomach; I felt like I was waiting on the other shoe to drop.

After several hours of trying unsuccessfully to ignore it, I sat down in one of the waiting room chairs heavily. With a sigh, I tipped my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. I turned my attention inward, grasping for the edge of whatever I was feeling, hoping to pull it out and into the light so that I could determine what exactly it was. I'd never been particularly good at the practice and was usually unable to focus hard enough to see clearly. Today, unfortunately, was no exception.

My half-hearted attempt at meditation was interrupted when I heard distantly the sound of tires on gravel. I opened my eyes, perking up and shoving the pit in my stomach ever deeper and well out of reach. I stood and moved to the front window and watched a red beater pickup pull up the drive. I recognized it as one of the guard trucks, immediately identifiable by the dents around the truck bed where men would plant their hands to hop in or out.

Though I knew the driver and his passenger, there were several men hanging off the sides that I didn't recognize. I retreated to the far side of the room, putting the reception desk between myself and the door. I knew I had no need to be nervous; I was safe here in our pack's territory. But I also knew from experience that there is always a risk when dealing with wolves – especially when they were hurt.

One of the strangers in the bed of the truck vaulted out before it came to a full stop. Favoring his right arm, he used only his left hand to propel his body over the side. Standing now beside the vehicle, talking to the driver, I was able to take in his full size. The man was huge, well over six feet tall with broad shoulders. He had to lean down slightly to speak through the truck window. I dropped my eyes as he began to approach the clinic alone. The rest remained with the truck, leaning against it casually and watching him move.

When he entered, the bells hanging on the front door jingled uselessly. His looming presence filled the small space and I struggled against the feeling of claustrophobia. I could sense the energy radiating off of him, a distinct aura of power that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I knew before he spoke that I shouldn't be taking him in as I was, and I dipped my head quickly.

"Gabriel," he introduced himself curtly. The Castle Pack Alpha. I had long heard stories of his ruthlessness, of his disdain for humans, and I felt a twinge of anxiety in my stomach. Had I known he'd be coming by, I would have called in another healer to deal with him.

Keeping my expression neutral, I looked at him. His face was streaked with dirt and sweat, and his unruly dark hair was raked back into a rough bun at the nape of his neck. I hesitated briefly before making direct eye contact; I knew he would immediately be able to read my apprehension, if he hadn't smelled it already. I gripped my pen in my hand and cast my eyes upwards to meet his. They were pale blue, piercing and severe. My pulse quickened.

"Kiera. How can I help you?" I asked, mentally willing my voice not to shake.

He lifted his muddy shirt to reveal a deep gash across the right side of his chest, the skin around it blackened and charred. "Silver blade," he said, his voice clipped. "Won't heal on its own."