A werewolf's life is a constant battle, but a chance to meet your soulmate eases the trials for most. Trae is happy with the mate he's given, a cute and daring girl who meets all of his expectations, but his brother Leroy... not so much. He is sure...
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Leroy's wound needed stitches.
I'd kept it as clean as I could, and wolf saliva helped the blood clot a little bit, but it wasn't a cure-all or magic. Go figure. You'd think a werewolf would have a bit of magic. Unfortunately, the only thing we could do was go back home and grab a first-aid kit. At least we lived in the twenty-first century, I guess.
It didn't take long for Leroy to start lagging behind as we ran. I had to urge him to keep going; we were several miles away from home, and the smell of blood was in the air.
When we were finally near the house, I stopped to look at him. He shook his head and limped away. We both knew it was better if he was in his human form for this. Fur didn't allow for much space to treat wounds, and the stitches would rip if he shifted back later, because his skin and muscles wouldn't be in the same place. We'd have to do it all over again.
I quickly got dressed when I was back in my human form, but Leroy was still naked; he'd sacrificed his shirt to tie around his leg. The gray cotton was dark with blood.
"Get up," I said, coming over to grab his arm.
He pulled away. "Let me put on some pants first."
"Being naked is the least of your—"
"Trae, please."
I sighed and helped him pull his pants over the blood-soaked lump on his leg. I would have thrown him into the house butt-naked if he hadn't been wearing a pair of loose shorts. He leaned heavily on me as we walked. Every step took effort. I sped up as we came into the backyard, and the back door flew open. Shaun came running out. "What the hell happened?"
"Didn't we tell you to stay inside?" Leroy growled.
"You gave me puppy eyes and pushed me. There's a lot of room for interpretation." He took Leroy's other arm. "But seriously, what happened?"
"Wolves," I said.
"Werewolves?" Mae asked. She held the door open for us but looked at the trees behind us, eyes flicking back and forth.
"No," Leroy grunted as he dropped himself onto the couch.
I sighed again. "Leroy . . . Shaun, help me get him to the kitchen."
Mae turned around, staring. "The kitchen? Why aren't we calling 9-1-1?"
"We can't." I pulled my brother up from the couch. "There's a first aid kit in the top left cupboard. Get it for me, please."
She hesitated only for a second before running to the kitchen and finding the kit. While she opened it and looked for supplies, I lowered Leroy to the floor and washed my hands. Then, I panicked. I knew how to do this, but I'd never done it myself—I'd only watched my dad do it.
