A Cursed Bloodline (WG 4)
bastard Anara had left my friend in a goddamn coma.
    Martin picked him up. “Let’s get him back to the Den.”
    “No.” My sudden outburst caught everyone by surprise. “Misha, I want Bren to stay with us.” I glanced at the Elders. “I’m a nurse. I’ll look after him and take care of him.”

    There was so much anger in Aric’s voice I had to avert my gaze. “He’s Pack, Celia. Bren goes with us.”
    I dug my heels in and stood my ground. “The attack today was directed at me. Bren got hurt protecting me. I owe it to him to help him now.”
    Makawee regarded me with patience and with a voice as gentle as a streaming brook. “Celia, young Brendan is part of our family. We care for our own.”
    My head snapped toward her. “Since when? Aric had to fight just to allow him into your Pack. Now that he’s hurt you feel sorry for him enough to claim him as your own?” Makawee had never shown me anything but kindness. I hated disrespecting her, but I couldn’t turn Bren over to them. Not when it meant he would be easy pickings for Anara.
    Martin held Bren. “Celia, our wolves will watch over him.”
    “I’m surprised you can spare them, Martin. Shouldn’t you be sending them off to breed?” My tone was hideously cold. I wasn’t proud, but I couldn’t let Bren go. The problem was, I wasn’t just picking a fight with the neighborhood kids. I was stepping on the toes of two Elders . Martin and Makawee were as formidable as Anara. I knew the patience of their beasts would soon wear thin.
    “I-I can try to help him,” Emme interrupted.
    My sisters and Aric’s Warriors had arrived without me knowing. I wasn’t sure how long they’d watched me, but it seemed they’d witnessed enough.

    Emme knelt by Bren and placed her hands against his chest, careful to avoid touching the symbol. Aric blocked my path when I rushed to stop her. I stood close enough to feel the warmth of his love, so strong it stung my eyes with tears. He tried to catch my gaze, but I looked away. “Just let her help him, Celia,” he said softly.
    I feared that Bren would wake and explain what happened…and that I’d watch everyone I loved die because of it. My frustration made my tears run faster. Aric sniffed the air. “You’re still bleeding.” His voice was different then, he’d always hated seeing me cry.
    I nodded.
    “Are you in pain?”
    “Yes,” I mumbled.
    Aric moved closer. The heat rose between us. Sweet heavens, I just needed him to hold me.
    “Something is terribly wrong,” Emme said. “It feels like I’m touching…” She scrambled away from Bren with her hands clasped over her mouth.
    I wasn’t sure what had happened until Liam loomed over him and said, “Shit. Bren just popped a tent.”
    Liam was right. Bren might have been in a coma, but he still managed an erection. He even smiled. Emme must have “touched” him in more ways than one.
    Taran sighed with relief. “Thank Christ. That’s a good sign, right?”
    Makawee stroked Bren’s moppy curls. The smile on her face faded. “No. His wolf still refuses to mend him.”
    “I’d like to take him home now.” My eyes stayed fixed on the ground, not wanting to face the judgmental stares bearing down on me.

    Aric took my hand in his. “Celia, have Emme heal you first and we’ll talk—”
    Moving so abruptly from Aric’s body heat was actually physically painful. “Misha, I want Bren with me.” Misha furrowed his perfect brows. The last thing he probably wanted was a werewolf living in his home. My eyes implored him. “Please, Misha.”
    He nodded slowly. “Very well, if that is what you desire.”
    “No,” Aric growled.
    “I want to take care of him, Aric. I need to, it’s my fault he’s hurt!” No one moved. Instead they regarded me like someone juggling grenades. They thought I was losing it. I reinforced their belief when I threw a ridiculous tantrum in my desperation to save Bren. “Give him to me, I want him now!”
    Martin stood, I

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