Unwritten Mates

I sprang out of the car like I had rockets attached to my feet, completely disregarding Ethan and my mother's desperate pleas to stay put. But there was no way I could just sit there; I have a huge soft spot for animals, and the notion of one being injured made my heart sink. When I reached the front of the car and saw what was lying there, it felt like my heart shattered into a million pieces. A beautiful wolf, just lying there, motionless.

I didn't care that getting closer could mean a nasty bite—I had to know if it was still breathing. "Come on, please be okay," I whispered, kneeling down and holding my breath as I leaned in closer. When I finally saw its chest rising and falling, I let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank God."

See, I'm not just an animal lover—I've got a serious thing for wolves. I mean, they're the ultimate symbol of wild beauty, right? So seeing one like this, hurt and helpless, was almost too much to handle. Yeah, it's weird for a wolf to be out in the daylight and near a road, but I wasn't exactly thinking about that. All I wanted was to help this gorgeous creature, which, by the way, looked like a male. Small mercies—I didn't have to worry about a pregnant wolf on top of everything else.

"Is there a vet nearby?" I snapped my head up at Ethan, who was scratching his head like he didn't know what to do with me. "About a 20-minute drive," he finally said. "But I think the wolf might actually be okay. You should probably move away before it decides to bite you."

I shot him a look. "If it bites me, that's fine. I'm more worried about it being hurt."

My dad chimed in with, "Can't we just move it to the side and get going?" My jaw nearly hit the pavement. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan shooting him the same look of disbelief I was giving him.

"You've got to be kidding," I practically shouted. Ethan glanced at me, clearly surprised by how intense I was about this. Seriously, what was wrong with people? Shouldn't everyone be on the same page about helping an injured animal?

Thankfully, my mom stepped in. "Robert, dear, maybe we should just take it to the vet? You know how Quinn gets about animals," she said, trying to smooth things over.

Dad grumbled but gave in. "Fine, Shannon. But if this thing attacks her, that's on you."

Ethan offered to pick up the wolf, but I was having none of that. "I'm sitting in the back with him," I insisted, sliding into the minivan and gently cradling the wolf in my lap.

"Please don't bite me," I asked gently, petting his soft fur and to my surprise, the wolf seemed to understand me by giving me a delicate nip on my arm and then tucking his head between my thighs like it was the safest place in the world. I let him stay there, satisfied to simply pet him and keep him peaceful.

But then something strange happened. Ethan was watching me, and for a brief moment, I think I heard him snarl. I dismissed it as my imagination, but the wolf must have heard it as well, for he raised his head and stared directly at Ethan. It was like they had some kind of silent conversation, which was strange enough on its own and suddenly the wolf then started wriggling around, rolling on his back and kicking his legs in the air. Was he playing? In pain? He eventually settled down and finally fell asleep in my arms like a giant, furry baby.

When we eventually arrived at the vet, Ethan brought the wolf inside and refusing to stay in the car, I followed closely after. The veterinarian was a nice woman and she listened as Ethan described what had happened. He then leaned down to say something to her making her eyes widened, and she gave me a short glance before returning her gaze to his. Normally, I'd be ticked off by people talking about me like I wasn't there, but as long as the wolf got the care he needed, I could let it slide.

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of him," the vet assured me. I thanked her and gave the wolf one last cuddle and in response he licked my face, and then gently nipped at my hand. It was a sweet gesture, but his teeth were sharp, and I felt a tiny sting as they grazed my skin, drawing a bit of blood.

The vet nearly lost it when she saw the scratch, but I brushed it off. "It's just a little scratch. See? It's already healing." And it was true—within seconds, the tiny wound had closed up. I gave her a reassuring smile, but she still looked worried.

When I turned to go, the wolf started up with this insane howling that had me frozen solid. What's the deal with this furball? It was like he couldn't stand the thought of me taking off. Bizarre, huh? And right when I had one foot out the door, this killer pain blasts up my arm, the exact spot where Mr. Fang had given me a little love bite. This wasn't your run-of-the-mill nick; my arm felt like it was on fire, and something strange and all kinds of wrong was slithering through my veins like a snake.

What the actual heck was going on with me?