CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Graham was asking her. Showing concern. Not, I’m doing this; too bad if you don’t like it. This was new.

“I’ll be fine,” Misty said, warming.

“Good. You can carry my clothes.”

Figures. “Shouldn’t you wait for Dougal and Reid?” Misty asked as Graham pulled off his shirt. His hard chest came into view in her flashlight’s glare, wiry hair curling across it.

“I want to know what we’re getting into. This basement goes back another fifty feet or so. Dougal will find us.”

Graham yanked open the ties on his boots and pulled them off and his socks. Then, without shame, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and took them off, the loose gray boxers underneath following.

Graham wore his nakedness with the same comfort others wore their workout clothes. He stood easily with his feet in the gravelly dirt as he balled up his pants and shirt and thrust them at Misty.

Misty immediately shook them out and folded them neatly, pretending to ignore Graham rolling his eyes. She tucked the clothes under her arm but left the boots and socks, because Graham seemed fine on his bare feet.

In the light of her bright flashlight, Graham started his change. Fur rippled along his back and down his legs, his thighs bending to become the haunches of an upright wolf. His hands became giant paws very quickly, fur running up his arms, across his chest, and up his throat.

Finally, his face changed to the long nose and glittering gray eyes of a wolf. His ears pricked out last, popping up from his head so quickly that Misty let out a laugh.

Graham growled and charged her. Misty squealed and tried to sidestep, but Graham barreled into her. At the last minute, he pulled back the attack, ending up brushing her legs, his fur wonderfully warm.

Misty stroked him, loving the wiry heat of his fur, the strength of his wolf’s body beneath it. Graham made a noise of what sounded like satisfaction, flowed around her again, and away.

The wolf cubs ran for Graham, yipping in gladness. They jumped at Graham’s nose and rammed small heads into his front legs, until Graham lowered his head and bumped each in turn with his muzzle.

Family, acknowledging family, Misty realized. That was the most important thing, when it came down to it. Family taking care of each other, as Misty had taken care of Paul and her father, as Graham took care of Dougal and the cubs.

Graham growled at Matt and Kyle, and they seemed to understand him. They scooted underneath his belly, Graham so large that they had plenty of room. Graham started forward, the cubs giving a series of yelps. Guiding him in the right direction, Misty thought.

She came behind, careful not to shine the light in front of Graham. Once they’d gone a few more yards, the darkness was complete. Misty couldn’t even see the square of light from outside behind her.

Graham stopped, and Misty nearly ran into him. He started again as soon as she drew near his big back, and he rumbled at her. She interpreted that he wanted her to stay close.

Another few steps, and she began to feel dizzy. The cubs whimpered. Graham stopped, and this time, Misty did run into him.

Misty put her hand on Graham’s strong back, taking comfort in him. The cubs were whining louder, scared.

The flashlight’s light snapped off. Misty shook the flashlight, but it was dead. Darkness fell upon her like a shroud. Her first instinct was panic, but she had Graham’s warm body under her hands. She was safe. Graham could see in the dark, and he’d protect her.

Graham abruptly whipped around and snarled at her. Somewhere a glint of light shone on his eyes, or maybe his eyes glowed of their own accord. She saw his white teeth, all of them, bared. The sight was terrifying—eyes and teeth, snarls of a mad wolf.

Graham’s wolf face shifted into a monster form, even more terrifying. He was snarling even as he changed. “Go back!” he yelled at her. “Run!”

Now was not the time to ask why or tell him again he wasn’t the boss of her. Graham knew something she didn’t, down here in the darkness, and Misty was ready to take his advice. She turned in the direction of where she thought the basement opening should be, and fled.

After three steps, she slipped, the floor having become slick for some reason, and went down, rocks cutting her knees beneath her skirt. It hurt, but wasn’t incapacitating.

She scrambled up, heart beating wildly. Graham snarled again, a wolf once more, and Misty kept running.

This time, she made it five steps before another wave of dizziness hit her. She had no idea whether she fell to her knees or flat on her face, because there was just . . . nothing.

Except Graham’s insistent voice, his hand on her abdomen. “Misty. Misty, damn it. Wake up.”

Misty opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Graham, his scarred face and broken nose over her, his gray eyes fixed on her.

“Thank the Goddess,” he said in relief. “I thought—” Graham clamped his mouth shut. His eyes, though, completed the thought and showed pain.

It was light where they were—lighter, anyway. Misty heard water running, a cool, soothing sound, but not from a faucet. More outdoorsy. More like . . .

Misty sat up, taking in a sharp breath. The wolf cubs were huddled together next to Graham, silent and shaking. They sat on slick rock, in a dim, cool cave, which was enormous. Vines snaked around them, out of reach, bearing small scarlet, purple, and light blue flowers. Misty swallowed. “Trailing petunias.”

“What?”

“The flowers.” Misty pointed. “They’re trailing petunias. Grow on vines instead of in clumps.”

“Oh, good,” Graham said. “I needed to know that.”

The water trickled pleasantly, but the sound put a chill in Misty’s heart. They were in the cave where Misty had first met the hiker. Graham was naked, sitting on the black ground, his arms around Misty. She’d lost hold of his clothes, which were nowhere in sight.

“How did we get here?” Misty asked, pushing her hair from her face. “What happened?”

“I haven’t the faintest f**king idea. I got dizzy, went down, woke up here. The cubs were fine, but you wouldn’t wake up.”

Misty swallowed. She didn’t have the needy thirst anymore, but the water called to her. Lovely. Cool. Drink.

She gave Graham a sharp look. “You all right?”

“I didn’t drink it, don’t worry.”

Misty blew out a breath. “Good.”