Aftermath

Chapter 22

Aftermath

“Nate.” Ian’s voice was so scratchy I hardly recognized it, but it was hard to mistake his looming presence. He dropped onto his knees beside me — really dropped, like someone had cut his strings, and then flopped down to sit cross-legged. “Nate, look at me?”

There’d already been people moving around me: some Armitage wolves dragging the shaman away at Dor’s low-voiced direction — hopefully to be bound with some better spells than I’d used on that water bottle. It’d done the job, but it wouldn’t keep him down forever.

I’d heard Ian giving orders, hoarse but calm and commanding, sending a few of his pack to harry the remaining Kimballs out of the territory, telling others where to put the wounded Kimballs left behind, and generally managing everything like a fucking boss.

Who knew he had it in him? Not Matthew, that was for sure. He always treated Ian like an idiot.

And so had I. I buried my face a little deeper in my knees. Yeah, shame was a bitch. Push had so f