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quiet, save for the
faint drumming of Kerri’s blood as it dripped from the table onto
the floor. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, until Zelda deemed
it time to begin the ugly business of cleaning and stitching the
wound.
    Logan was no stranger to gore. He’d seen his
fair share of injuries on the farm, and Selena wasn’t fond of
doctors. She wasn’t fond of anyone. So Logan knew a thing or two
about stitches. Still, he paled at the sight of the torn skin on
Kerri’s neck and shoulder.
    Zelda rested her good hand on top of the
irrigation kit and picked at the corner of the cardboard box, until
Logan took it from her and tore it open.
    “ I’ve got this,” he said.
“You should see to your hand.”
    Zelda flinched at his tone before standing
and retreating to the kitchen to tend to her own wounds.
    Kerri’s skin puckered out in jagged strips,
dark blood crusting the edges. Logan held his breath as he poured
the saline over her neck, for fear the wound would spring back to
life and start bleeding everywhere again. From the amount on the
table, it didn’t seem like Kerri could have much more to spare.
    Once the wound was clean, Logan slowly,
painstakingly stitched it closed. Twenty minutes had never felt so
long. When he finished, he rubbed his face across his shoulder,
wiping away the sweat that had gathered there. He let Violet take
over from there, with antibiotic ointment and a gauze bandage.
    Zelda stood by the sink, struggling with her
own dressing. Logan watched her a moment, questioning his better
judgement, before he couldn’t take it any longer. He walked around
the counter and snatched the roll of gauze from her.
    “ Let me do it,” he
said.
    Zelda flinched again, and he couldn’t help
but feel like the biggest asshole in the world. Still, he refused
to apologize. His anger boiled beneath the surface, making him feel
reckless and hyper aware of the coming full moon.
    He reigned in his foul mood, refusing to let
his wolf take control, as he gently wrapped Zelda’s hand and
forearm, careful not to touch her skin.
    “ What next?” Violet asked,
wringing her hands as she walked around the table.
    Zelda blinked stiffly. “She might need a
blood expander. I have an IV kit and some Hetastarch upstairs.”
    “ Okay. I can do that.
We’ll get her set up in a room.” She nodded to Grant. “Grab the
stretcher.”
    Grant hurried to the coat closet where
Violet had found the wedge pillow, and where Zelda kept more
medical supplies than coats. He came back with a stretcher and a
neck brace. After the brace was secured around Kerri’s neck so her
head wouldn’t flop around and pull the stitches loose, Logan helped
transfer her from the table to the stretcher.
    As Violet and Grant disappeared up the back
stairs, Logan turned and placed both hands on the kitchen counter.
“You know I have to report this to the council, right?”
    Zelda swallowed and rested her bandaged hand
against her chest. When her eyes met his, they were wet. “I was
afraid you’d say that.”
    She placed her good hand over his on the
counter, flinching when he pulled away.
    “ Don’t—” he bit his lip,
stopping himself from finishing the sentence.
    He’d just watched her barbeque a man twice
his size by pointing her finger at him. She was not the fragile
human he had courted for the past year. He didn’t know what she
was.
    He stood taller, trying to push the tension
out of his shoulders. “This will go a lot easier on both of us if
you come with me.”
    Zelda lowered her voice and took a timid
step closer, watching him with solemn eyes. “I don’t want to leave
my people here alone. What if the Raymore Clan comes back?”
    “ They won’t,” Violet said,
descending the stairs. She circled the counter and washed her hands
at the sink. “They’ll lick their wounds for a day or two. They’re
not smart enough to regroup any sooner than that. And I’m pretty
sure they ain’t dealt with a witch before.” She looked at