Lone Wolf (First in Lone Wolf Series)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dawn was just pulling a pan of cookies from one of her ovens when a scent reached her nose. It was the scent of a werewolf but it was unfamiliar and it was close.

Dawn whirled around and looked at the closed back door that led to the woods behind the bakery. Grange had warned her that someone would be coming soon and though he was not here in the bakery with her, as a matter of fact no one was unless you counted Brie who had gone upstairs to sew, Dawn hoped that he was close enough to know a threat might be near.

The scent was strange. It was a weak scent and yet the longer she scented it, the more familiar it seemed. Her brow scrunched when she realized it wasn’t coming from behind the closed door but instead from inside the room.

Dawn turned in a slow circle but she was alone. She frowned and then gagged as a wave of nausea passed over her. She tossed her pan of cookies onto the counter, covered her mouth with her hand, whimpered and then ran out the back door and lost her breakfast beside the back wall.

She kept her hands braced on her knees and her head lowered as she waited for the sickness to pass. Her legs were shaking and her head was spinning. What was wrong with her? Did wolves get food poisoning? She didn’t think so but then again something was wrong.

And then there was that scent… It had followed her outside and yet as far as Dawn could tell, she was alone.

Dawn leaned her forehead against the cool, shaded, brick wall and then sighed with relief when she caught Grange’s scent, seconds before he wrapped his arms tight around her and pulled her back against him. He kissed the back of her hair and spread his fingers wide to cover her stomach.

“How did you know I was sick?” Dawn whispered and she felt his chest swell as he took a deep breath.

“After what happened with that vampire there is no longer a second that goes by that I don’t know where and how you are.”

“How very overly protective of you.” Dawn replied with a smile and Grange chuckled, his chest rumbling against her back. “Grange, why am I sick? Do werewolves get viruses?”

“No, Dawn. You don’t have a virus.” Dawn turned in his arms and looked up at his face but it was unreadable, though she could smell nervousness and fear both coming off of him in waves.

“Grange, what is going on?” she demanded, laying her hand over her stomach as it rolled once again. Grange took her hand without answering and led her back inside.

He poured some water from a pitcher into a glass and then mixed in some baking soda before handing her the glass.

“What’s this for?” Dawn asked with a frown and Grange pushed it toward her lips.

“It will help your stomach.” he assured her. Dawn sighed and then took a small drink, crinkling her nose at the horrible taste.

“Grange, do you know what’s wrong with me?” she asked before taking another sip because the foul tasting concoction really did seem to be helping her stomach.

Dawn watched his eyes travel up and down the length of her body before settling on her stomach. Dawn sat the glass on the counter and then covered her stomach self-consciously with her arms.

“What are you staring at?” she asked quietly.

“The place where our child is growing.”

Dawn blinked several times as she tried to understand what he had just said. She looked down at her arms crossed over her stomach and licked her trembling bottom lip.

“Child?” she whispered.

“Yes.” Grange replied, though he made no move to come any closer to her, instead he took a step back and leaned against the tiny island in the center of the room. Dawn frowned.