Werewolf in Alaska

texture of its fur. Then again, she’d never touched a wolf before. Maybe they all felt like that.

Leaving the bedroom, she made sure the doors and windows were closed and locked to keep the wolf in and the bears out. Then she collected the supplies she’d need—towels, washcloths, a basin of warm water, antiseptic, and gauze. She also grabbed a prescription liquid antibiotic. It was the first time in a long while she was grateful for her internship with the vet.

Polecat was so far from the nearest medical facility that she’d talked a doctor friend into letting her keep an antibiotic on hand for times when she needed it and the roads were closed. If she could get some of that down the wolf’s throat, so much the better.

When she returned, the wolf lay motionless except for its heaving flanks. Correction, his flanks. She confirmed what she’d assumed was true, that she was dealing with a male wolf.

She used towels and gentle pressure on his wounds until the bleeding stopped. Now to see if she could get some of the antibiotic into him. Filling the eyedropper with the liquid, she sank to her knees and wondered if this was the craziest thing she’d ever done. If she tried to give him the medicine and he mangled her hand, he could ruin her career.

But without this wolf, her career wouldn’t have started in the first place. She leaned down and touched his muzzle. “I want you to swallow this. It will fight any potential infection from those claws.”

The green eyes opened. She had the oddest sensation that he understood exactly what she’d said. Silly, of course. He was a wolf, and he might understand intonations, but he wouldn’t know the meaning of the words.

“I’m going to ease open your jaws and squirt this in. I want you to swallow it.” She talked to him as if he had a full command of the language, which helped her deal with the surreal nature of this moment. A wild wolf was about to spend the night in her bedroom.

Whether the wolf understood her intentions or not, he didn’t object when she pried his powerful jaws apart and squirted the antibiotic into the back of his throat. He gagged a little, but he didn’t bite or snarl. He just swallowed as instructed, like a good dog.

Rachel sat back on her heels and took a deep breath. “Okay. That was a start. Now I need to clean your wounds, and that’s going to hurt. But if I don’t, you’ll run the risk of infection. The antibiotic will help, but I want to cover all the bases.”

The wolf sighed and closed his eyes. Once again, she suspected he had lived in someone’s home because he was so comfortable inside a house. Maybe he was a wolf hybrid. In any case, she’d be careful about broadcasting his presence until she had a better idea of where he might belong.

Lionel was scheduled to come over in the morning, and he might know something about this wolf. If not, he’d keep quiet if she asked him to. He might refuse to buy her chocolate candy, but he wouldn’t betray a confidence.

If Lionel knew nothing, she might ask Ted if he’d heard of anyone domesticating a wolf or keeping a hybrid. No, maybe not Ted. He could get gabby. She’d be careful what she said to him. In any case, this wasn’t the time to nail fliers to telephone poles or post an update on Facebook.

No telling what sort of wildlife regulations she was flaunting by having this creature in her house. But he’d protected her and she’d return the favor. If it weren’t for all her traveling, she would consider keeping him if he seemed willing to stay. It might mean breaking a law, perhaps, but having a constant source of inspiration for her carving would be very cool.

Impractical, though. She was away so much that keeping an animal would be unfair. Besides, this one was far too magnificent to be at some human’s beck and call. He might have been tame once, but if he’d returned to the wild, she wouldn’t dream of taking away his freedom. Come to think of it, he probably wouldn’t let her.

Chapter 3

If Jake could have dragged himself away from Rachel after the fight with the bear, he would have done it. But tangling with the grizzly had taken its toll, and he’d been dazed by the encounter and in shock from loss of blood. Shifting into human form would have helped because a shift always aided the healing process. It was one of the benefits of being Were.

But he hadn’t been able to retreat into the forest to accomplish that before Rachel had grabbed a fistful of fur. In his weakened state, he’d allowed her to guide him into her house. Now, in the confines of her bedroom, he really couldn’t shift.

If he were with anyone besides Rachel, he’d be freaked-out right now. He’d never interacted with a human while in wolf form. But he thought that he could trust Rachel. Her empathy for wild creatures, especially wolves, should keep her from putting him at risk.

She wasn’t likely to spread the word about him, because she didn’t want to attract attention any more than he did. At the most she might tell her assistant, Lionel, and maybe Ted. Lionel wouldn’t blab and neither would Ted, unless he drank beer with his poker buddies.

Jake could play the role of faithful wolf-dog for a day or so, until he felt strong enough to slip out the door when Rachel wasn’t looking. In the meantime, he’d been handed an excuse to be near her, and maybe he should relax and enjoy it. He’d never have trusted himself to spend hours alone with her in human form, but as a wolf, he’d be fine.

As she dipped a washcloth in the basin, he realized he’d never experienced first aid, human-style. Whenever he’d hurt himself as a wolf or human, which hadn’t been often, he’d simply shifted to accelerate the healing process and let it go at that. Two shifts helped twice as much.

This time he’d find out how nonshifters dealt with injuries. When she touched him with the wet cloth, he nearly went through the ceiling. The stab of pain made him jerk violently, and he began to pant.

“Sorry.” She spoke to him in a low, crooning voice. “I’m sure that hurts.”

No shit. He began to question whether hanging out with Rachel was worth it after all. If he’d made a greater effort to get away from her, he could be deep in the forest healing his wounds by himself. He wouldn’t need her primitive warm-water-and-washcloth routine.

Apparently he’d overestimated the joy of being nursed by her and underestimated the amount of suffering he’d have to endure. She was obviously trying to be gentle, but damn, it hurt. He hadn’t appreciated how good he had it being able to shift his way through an injury. How did humans stand the pain? Narcotics, probably, and he wasn’t getting any of those.

Pride kept him from groaning every time she laid that warm cloth over his wounds, but he sure as hell felt like bellowing. He considered his options. Leaving now might be impossible, especially if she’d closed her front and back doors.

Besides, she wouldn’t let him leave if she could help it. She firmly believed he’d get sick and die without her medical intervention. Instead she was putting him through unnecessary torture, but her heart was in the right place. He was stuck here, so he might as well lie quietly and count his blessings.

And he did have blessings. As she leaned over him, he was surrounded by the sweet smell of almonds. After all the nights he’d traveled around the lake just so he could catch a whiff of her favorite scent, he was in almond heaven, so he’d better enjoy it while he could.

He’d often dreamed of having her touch him, too, and although her touch brought nothing but pain at the moment, that wasn’t her fault. She was only trying to help. In fact, without the aid of shifting, his wounds actually might become infected if she didn’t clean them.

She had courage to even attempt such a thing on an animal she didn’t know. He’d always thought she had guts and spirit, and she’d demonstrated that strength of character tonight. He’d never forget the sight of her bracing for the attack armed with a cardboard tube of sketches.

Good thing he’d been there to stop the mother bear from tearing Rachel to pieces. He’d been lucky to get a good hold on the bear’s throat. As she’d swung him around, he’d telepathically threatened to puncture her jugular if she didn’t stop.

The bear had finally listened to reason and the fight had ended. He’d hoped that Rachel would run inside when the fight started, which would have allowed him to disappear into the woods after it was over. Instead she’d