Chapter 3

Isaiah ran up the steps, opened the door moving quickly, but carefully as not to hurt the woman in his arms even more. He kicked it shut, placing her down on the couch and caught his breath. The warmth of the fire was welcomed at the moment.

He stood there next to her in shock. He ran both hands through his hair, trying to figure out what to do.

“Shit,” Isaiah growled under his breath repeatedly as he went to grab his phone off the table on the entryway table, his eyes coming back to the coffee stained cup as he did. Returning to the woman now, he noticed a smaller claw mark on her upper right thigh. The most puzzling notion

He palmed the back of his neck. “You have to be fucking kidding me.” He quickly dialed his mom and waited for her to answer.

“Hello?” The voice came through a moment later.

“Hey mom, you're never going to believe this.” He said in a rushed voice. “I have a female wolf in her human form that has been badly clawed up. What do I do?” He asked in a panicked voice. He could hear his mother take a deep breath, thinking before she asked her next question.

“How is her pulse?”

“Weak, but the smaller wounds are slowly healing on their own.” He replied, walking from wall to wall, glancing nervously down at the woman lying naked on his couch.

“Honey, calm down. Upstairs in your bathroom, under the sink, I placed a few jars of the homemade remedy we use for injuries when we get hurt. It will aid in the healing process. Place it on her wounds; then you’ll have to wait it out.” Ana instructed.

“How long?”

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t know when or what happened to her. You’ll have to be patient, Isaiah. She might stay unconscious for few days or wake up sooner. It just depends on how bad her wounds are.”

“Ok. I’ll keep you posted. Thanks, mom.” He said hanging up. He ran up the stairs as fast as he could, scaling two steps at a time, striking the second last set with the bottom of his sole, nearly tripping on the way up. When he reached the top of the stairs, he made his way into the large bathroom. His eye caught the oval bath to one side, with the full glass shower beside it. How badly he could use one now to warm up, he thought before returning to the task at hand. He grabbed the mason jars from below the sink. He remembered these from when he was a child. Isaiah and his brothers would always play fight when they shifted and someone always got hurt.

The remedy was a mixture of clay with several different herbs his mother discovered years ago and it always worked like a charm.

Isaiah grabbed several washcloths and a bowl he had stored under the sink and filled it with warm water. He took the steps as fast as he could and made his way back down into the living room.

Zeus was sitting on his hind legs in front of the woman and Isaiah kneeled down beside him. His eyes trailed the woman’s body, slowly inspecting every inch.

Even though she was partially covered in blood, she was extremely beautiful. Her long black hair fanned out around her and in some spots, it was a little matted. He pushed several strands out of her face and then took the warm damp washcloth and wiped away some blood that was on her cheek. Her head was tilted to the right, facing him. She looked angelic as she laid there unconscious.

Her lips were full and bluish in color due to being outside in the cold. Her skin was like a perfect layer of cream and she had the fullest black lashes that rested against her skin just above her high cheekbones. She looked like a rare china doll and again something tugged at his inner wolf that he had never felt before. A sense of protection and urgency to keep her safe.

Isaiah never had a shortage of woman. His fame, money, and good looks always created a sea of woman that would surround him, and in all of his 31 years, there was never a time where he couldn’t have snapped his fingers and had a woman on his lap, on his side, or in his bed. They threw themselves at him in boorish displays of hope that they could be a part of his fame and his lifestyle, wanting so deeply to be a part of something greater than what they were.

Isaiah knew this and often used it to his advantage, especially in his younger days. There was never a time that he would be without a beautiful woman, often times even models, wrapped around his arm for magazine shoots and upholding this image of the glamorous and perfect lifestyle. Women loved him, and he had to admit that he too, had a spot in his heart for the fairer sex.

Lowering a wet cloth over her right ribs, Isaiah began wiping the blood from the, now crusted, large claw marks left on the girl. Even unconscious, she winced slightly from the pain of the cloth, striking the open wound, but even though it was near inaudible, he knew the unmistakable sound well. They were fairly deep from what he could see. His eyes draped over her full breasts and their taunt deep brown areola peaks. He licked his lips and watched her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath she took.

His eyes quickly swept over her stomach, then to her muscular thighs and down her legs that seemed never to end. He tried to ignore the juncture in between her thighs and forced himself to look at her right leg that had the second large claw mark that started in the middle and ran to the back of her leg. He wiped that clean and then rolled her onto her side and finished the rest.

The last large wounds were on her back. She had four slashes to the top right shoulder and then another four going straight across the base of her back.

Isaiah grabbed a new washcloth and soaked it in the warm water. Taking his time as not to hurt the girl anymore, he gently wiped away the last of the caked blood that coated her skin. With the addition of the warm water, the crusted layer of blood turned to soluble, slowly starting to run down her back. Isaiah knew that it was in both their best interests to finish the cleaning before applying the healing balm. Otherwise, it would be counterintuitive with the blood possibly causing issue further down the line by becoming toxic. When he finished wiping off the remnants, he began layering the wounds with the paste that his mother stored, coating them with a thick layer of clay before letting it dry. When he’d gotten the bulk of the wounds, he continued applying the paste to her body over all the open wounds until the smell of his mother’s paste was filling the air around him. Zeus even came in for a sniff and attempted a lick, but was quickly dismissed.

The entire process took just over an hour to complete, but when it was finished, relief washed over Isaiah.

To truly finish off, he grabbed a throw that hung neatly over a chair and wrapped her with it.

Rising to his feet, the only thoughts that ran through his mind were what could have happened to the girl. Why was she out here all alone? How long had she been out there naked in the snow?

He had never seen this woman before. Isaiah knew everyone in Crimson Creek and this woman definitely was not from this area. He also knew there were no other shifters in the area that he was aware of so where the hell did she come from? He brought both his palms up to each brow line respectively and slid them across his head. He turned to Zeus, his green eyes piercing that of his Golden Lab, “What the hell could have happened here boy?” He asked.

Zeus’s ears perked up and the dog tilted his head at his master in confusion. Isaiah fell back in the armchair and perched his feet on the edge of the end table. It was almost 9 PM and he could feel his eyes slowly shut as he drifted off to sleep.