Clay's Instinct (BBW Paranormal Romance) (Wolf Call) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Abbey Polidori
until it engulfed everything.
Awareness came back to her slowly. The first thing that came to her through the blackness was sound. Someone moving around close to her. She heard birds in the distance, singing happily while she lay here in total darkness. Her sense of smell came alive next and she recognized the bitter odour of coffee brewing. That was a happy smell which she associated with meeting friends at Starbucks. But she was outdoors, not at Starbucks, so how could she smell coffee? She remembered being on the ridge and falling.
The sounds became recognizable as liquid being poured into mugs and a spoon stirring, ringing out a metallic song as it hit the edge of the mug. It sounded better to Lucinda than the bird song because she associated that stirring sound with hot drinks, and hot drinks were comforting when you were hurt, when you had just fallen and banged your head.
She tried to move and groaned as pain lanced through her skull.
'Try not to move,' came Clay Adams' voice through the blackness.
She opened her eyes slowly and realized she was in the log cabin. The smell of coffee was joined by the smell of age and an underlying scent of pine. She was lying on a bed, still fully clothed, with a bandage wrapped around her head and a cold wet compress applied to the back of her skull. As her senses returned, she felt a dull throbbing in the place the compress had been applied.
The only other furnishing in the small room was a nightstand. Beyond the doorway, in the main part of the cabin, Clay stood by a stove and kettle. He was looking at her with concern.
'How are you feeling?' he asked.
'Not too bad considering I fell off a mountain.'
He brought her a mug of steaming black coffee and handed it to her. 'Don't drink it yet, it's too hot.'
She accepted it gratefully and sat up against the carved pine headboard. 'I guess you rescued me,' she observed. 'Thanks.'
He shrugged. 'I got to you before you went too far but you hit your head pretty bad.'
She knew he had only managed to get to her in time because of his powers, because he was one of them. A shifter. A killer.
'So what now?' she asked. 'You have me where you want me. I'm helpless and we're in the middle of nowhere. What happens now?'
'Now you rest,' he said, reaching behind her head to check the compress. 'You have a bump back there. You haven't vomited so I assume you don't have a concussion.' He looked at her eyes. 'No black eye. I think you'll recover quickly.'
'And what about you?' she nodded at his side. 'You took a bullet.' She almost added, 'for me' but stopped herself.
'I heal quickly,' he said. 'Now drink some coffee.'
She took a sip of the hot bitter liquid and felt it warm her inside. 'God that tastes good!' She looked around the room. 'What is this place?'
'It's an old hunter's cabin. I used to come up here all the time when I was a kid.'
'So it belongs to your parents?' Her reporter's curiosity was returning full force.
Clay looked at the walls as if recalling old memories. 'My adopted parents, yes.'
'You're adopted?'
He nodded. 'My parents found me out here by the cabin one day. I was four years old. The authorities reckoned I'd been wandering in the woods for days. Somehow I'd survived. Apart from scratches and cuts, the only other mark on me was a bite. Of unknown origin, was the official description of that bite.'
'If you were four, your real parents must have been missing you.'
'The police put out appeals on TV and in the local newspapers to find my parents but nobody came forward to claim me as their child.' He looked at the window and the trees beyond. 'I think the thing that bit me killed my parents. Their bodies are out there somewhere in the woods.'
'That's horrible!' she said.
'I had a good life with my adopted parents. They raised me well. And when they found out about my secret, they kept it hidden from the rest of the community. They researched lycanthropy and helped me control it. That's why I wear this.'
Awareness came back to her slowly. The first thing that came to her through the blackness was sound. Someone moving around close to her. She heard birds in the distance, singing happily while she lay here in total darkness. Her sense of smell came alive next and she recognized the bitter odour of coffee brewing. That was a happy smell which she associated with meeting friends at Starbucks. But she was outdoors, not at Starbucks, so how could she smell coffee? She remembered being on the ridge and falling.
The sounds became recognizable as liquid being poured into mugs and a spoon stirring, ringing out a metallic song as it hit the edge of the mug. It sounded better to Lucinda than the bird song because she associated that stirring sound with hot drinks, and hot drinks were comforting when you were hurt, when you had just fallen and banged your head.
She tried to move and groaned as pain lanced through her skull.
'Try not to move,' came Clay Adams' voice through the blackness.
She opened her eyes slowly and realized she was in the log cabin. The smell of coffee was joined by the smell of age and an underlying scent of pine. She was lying on a bed, still fully clothed, with a bandage wrapped around her head and a cold wet compress applied to the back of her skull. As her senses returned, she felt a dull throbbing in the place the compress had been applied.
The only other furnishing in the small room was a nightstand. Beyond the doorway, in the main part of the cabin, Clay stood by a stove and kettle. He was looking at her with concern.
'How are you feeling?' he asked.
'Not too bad considering I fell off a mountain.'
He brought her a mug of steaming black coffee and handed it to her. 'Don't drink it yet, it's too hot.'
She accepted it gratefully and sat up against the carved pine headboard. 'I guess you rescued me,' she observed. 'Thanks.'
He shrugged. 'I got to you before you went too far but you hit your head pretty bad.'
She knew he had only managed to get to her in time because of his powers, because he was one of them. A shifter. A killer.
'So what now?' she asked. 'You have me where you want me. I'm helpless and we're in the middle of nowhere. What happens now?'
'Now you rest,' he said, reaching behind her head to check the compress. 'You have a bump back there. You haven't vomited so I assume you don't have a concussion.' He looked at her eyes. 'No black eye. I think you'll recover quickly.'
'And what about you?' she nodded at his side. 'You took a bullet.' She almost added, 'for me' but stopped herself.
'I heal quickly,' he said. 'Now drink some coffee.'
She took a sip of the hot bitter liquid and felt it warm her inside. 'God that tastes good!' She looked around the room. 'What is this place?'
'It's an old hunter's cabin. I used to come up here all the time when I was a kid.'
'So it belongs to your parents?' Her reporter's curiosity was returning full force.
Clay looked at the walls as if recalling old memories. 'My adopted parents, yes.'
'You're adopted?'
He nodded. 'My parents found me out here by the cabin one day. I was four years old. The authorities reckoned I'd been wandering in the woods for days. Somehow I'd survived. Apart from scratches and cuts, the only other mark on me was a bite. Of unknown origin, was the official description of that bite.'
'If you were four, your real parents must have been missing you.'
'The police put out appeals on TV and in the local newspapers to find my parents but nobody came forward to claim me as their child.' He looked at the window and the trees beyond. 'I think the thing that bit me killed my parents. Their bodies are out there somewhere in the woods.'
'That's horrible!' she said.
'I had a good life with my adopted parents. They raised me well. And when they found out about my secret, they kept it hidden from the rest of the community. They researched lycanthropy and helped me control it. That's why I wear this.'
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