Wulfe Untamed by Wulfe Untamed Read Free Book Online Page B

The least he could do was get rid of the bodies, or at least move them out of her sight until they disintegrated in a few days. The basement would have to do.
    After three tries, Wulfe found the right door, then bent to scoop up the closest body and nearly sank to his knees as pain screamed through his shoulder and side, and weakness tore at his muscles. His vision swam.
    Straightening slowly, he slammed his palm against the wall, willing his vision to clear. When it did, he made his way to Natalie, lifting her carefully. The bodies would have to wait. Clenching his jaw, he made his way slowly up the stairs, Natalie tucked against his chest.
    He was nearly to the second floor when a razor-sharp bite tore into his injured shoulder wrenching a bloodcurdling yell from his throat. Draden. He’d known the little fiends, no bigger than an average man’s fist, would find him sooner or later, drawn to his Therian life force. If he didn’t shift soon, they’d steal it all, killing him. But he couldn’t carry Natalie in his wolf.
    Pushing himself past the point of endurance, he climbed the last couple of steps, sweat rolling down his temples. Another draden found him, then another, and another, all tearing at his flesh until his sight blurred, until it was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other.
    As he stumbled into the nearest room, a flash of lightning lit the bed and he pushed himself toward it, managing to lower Natalie onto the soft mattress and not . . . quite . . . follow her down. The moment she was out of his arms, he shifted back into his wolf, listening with satisfaction as the draden squawked their anger at the loss of their meal and flew away.
    His vision tilted. If he were still immortal, the weakness would be a temporary thing. But he wasn’t, and there was no telling what would happen.
    Goddess, he had to survive this. He had to. Natalie needed him.
    Lurching toward the bedroom door, he managed to butt it closed with his wolf’s flank, then sink down in front of it, blocking her escape. Hopefully, he’d awaken if she tried to move him.
    Hopefully, he’d awaken again period.
    A loud crack of thunder startled Natalie awake. Lightning flashed across the room and she caught sight of the pictures on the wall.
    “What am I doing in the guest room?” she muttered groggily. Confusion clouded her mind as she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She reached for the lamp, but though her fingers turned the knob, nothing happened. The electricity was out. And the closest flashlight was in the master bedroom.
    Utterly confused, she pushed to her feet just as another flash illuminated the room and the large dog lying in front of the closed door, his fur caked with . . . blood.
    It all came back in a rush—the men breaking into her house. The dog, Wolf, attacking them . . . killing them . . . as he protected her. She swayed, her forehead heating at the memory of the violence, her stomach lurching. Had he killed them all? Heaven help her, she hoped he had, because they’d stabbed him, over and over, in return.
    Stumbling forward, she sank to her knees on the carpet beside the beautiful animal and reached for him. Please don’t let him be dead. Her palm pressed against the warm fur of his shoulder and felt the steady rise and fall she’d hoped for. Thank God.
    Downstairs, something crashed, stopping her heart. The intruders are still here. Her pulse began to thud hard enough to shake her entire body as she waited for the sound of boots on the stairs, a sound she might not hear over the howling wind and the rain slashing against the windows.
    Lightning again illuminated the dog’s blood-soaked fur. Thunder cracked, startling her out of her momentary paralysis. She had to do something to stop the bleeding, or Wolf was going to die right here, right now. If the intruders broke through the door, so be it. They must know she was up here. Which made no sense.
    Pushing to her feet, she