“Can we get her buckled in?” Jessa stared at the hulk of a man still gripping her arm. “I’ve got things to do.”
Ellen nodded. “Be careful with her, Byron.”
Byron snorted, tugging her across the office to what looked suspiciously like an examination table. She resisted then, eyeing the wrist and ankle straps with growing panic. She kicked at him, clawing his forearm to get away. Byron lifted her up and slammed her onto the exam table. “Stop it,” he snarled.
“Careful. I know it’s a foreign concept to you, but try, Byron. She’s important.” Ellen patted Jessa. “Very important. I don’t think the straps are necessary. Do you?” she asked Jessa.
“Ellen,” the man argued. “He’ll have a shit-fit if she gets away.”
“Where will she go?” Ellen waved her hand at him. “Relax Byron. I swear, I’ll have to start treating you for high blood pressure.”
Byron scowled at Ellen, but he released Jessa. She rubbed her arm, knowing it would be bruised. And her head throbbed.
“If I have to hear one more fucking word about survival of the pack, live pups, and that goddamn bone, I’m going to challenge him myself,” Byron snapped, eyeing Jessa. “I’m not the only one. Some of us think he’s bringing a shit-storm of trouble down on us for nothing.”
Jessa listened, wishing the words made more sense. Finn had mentioned a bone. The bone that turned him. But the rest of it?
Ellen glanced at the door. “Don’t let anyone else hear you say that,” she whispered.
Byron stared down at her. He hated her. That was an understatement. His hostility was smothering, pressing in on her until it was hard to breathe.
“Go on,” Ellen shooed him from the room. Ellen leaned against the closed door, cocking her head. She smiled at Jessa, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You have no idea what’s going on, do you?”
Jessa shook her head.
“Why don’t you rest for a bit? We’ll see what sort of injuries we’re dealing with and go from there.” Ellen crossed to her, moving too quickly to put Jessa at ease. “Relax now,” Ellen said, patting her thigh.
Jessa frowned, beyond confused.
While Ellen opened and closed cabinets, collecting band aids and alcohol wipes, Jessa was staring wide-eyed at her new surroundings.
It was like any doctor’s office. But the charts on the walls differed. Some were human, men and women, others were dogs. No windows, one door, one stool, two chairs, and the examination table she was on—thankfully unsecured.
Ellen sat on the stool and scooted close to Jessa’s head. She clicked her tongue, using a cotton ball to clean the sticky mess from her skin and hair. “There’s some glass here. Head wounds bleed a lot, so we’ll have to see what’s going on. Might need stitches. Might be nothing.”
Jessa glanced at her. Was Ellen being genuine? Or was she all pretense with big teeth and an even bigger agenda underneath. She had one of those faces that made age irrelevant, lined but lovely in a timeless way. Close-cropped black hair, plain white t-shirt, jeans, and the most unusual eyes. One green and one brown.
“I won’t bite,” Ellen smiled.
Jessa shook her head.
“I mean, I can. We wolves tend to do that now and then. But I’m civilized,” Ellen smiled.
“Why am I here?” Jessa asked.
Ellen glanced at the door. “Besides luring the big one here, you mean? You’re pregnant, girl. That’s something that hasn’t happened in our pack in decades.” She paused. “I’m going to wrap your head. I think stitches will do more damage than good.”
Jessa frowned.
“I’m not going to bore you with all the details. Let’s just say Cyrus doesn’t like mysteries.” The woman lifted Jessa’s hand, peering at the shredded palm. “Ouch. And you—that is, his whole pack, the False Wolves—you’re all a big, scary mystery to an alpha like Cyrus.”
Finn’s pack. The False Wolves?
“Glass in here,” Ellen said. “I need to get the tweezers. You want anything to eat or drink? Byron’s not the most hospitable caretaker.”
“Water?” Jessa asked. She was parched. “Please.”
Ellen’s brow furrowed, her smile tightening. “Sure.”