I bent over again, nursing my side as I tried to slow my breathing to a more reasonable rhythm. Despite the pain, my body felt good. Well used. I turned back toward the house. Now that the sun had fully risen above the tree line, the house was awash with the yellow glow of morning. I started at a good speed, walking as fast as I dared without aggravating my side. It would take a few days for me to get back into shape, but I knew I wouldn’t give up again. I’d missed jogging—I just hadn’t realized how much.
What Lance said had me thinking. My anger had flared at the mention of Cal’s name, but was simmering now, losing some of its power. I wasn’t asking for a marriage proposal for Christ’s sake. My very existence seemed to be rooted in this Order of the Wolf stuff. My life depended on becoming the Huntress, and to do that I apparently needed to bond with Cal. But the word itself, bonded, suggested that it wouldn’t be a pairing for a short time. Could we be bonded and not be in love? Would I grow to hate him? Was there a ticket out of the bonding after I defeated Lazarus? All I wanted was some clarity going forward. Because, in essence, I was trapped. Despite what anyone said. I didn’t have a choice unless I considered death an option. If I needed to bond with Cal, I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to close himself off to me forever—like being stuck in a loveless marriage, an arranged union out of duty. Or I needed to know that there was a way out afterward. I was willing to go in with an open mind—he wasn’t, and I wanted to know why. For whatever reason, Cal couldn’t directly lie to me. Maybe all I needed was to ask him for the whole truth and he would tell me.
Lost in my thoughts, I’d made it within a quarter mile of the house when I felt an eerie chill of apprehension wash over me. Something unsettling crawled across my skin, fear that slithered down my back. I quickened my step, keeping my eyes on the house and turning away from the edge of the forest, cursing myself for having strayed so close. Figuring it was probably just Cal’s reaction from last night that had me spooked, I turned my head to the side and glanced into the forest, but saw nothing to warrant my sudden fear.
The forest was creepy, dark and dense, probably easy to get lost in, and although I’d been told there was magic protecting me, I couldn’t see or feel it. Being without Lance and Candy had me suddenly feeling very vulnerable.
I turned toward the house and changed course again, thinking to cut diagonally across the lawn. It’ll be faster that way, anyway. I picked up my pace.
The trees rustled behind me. A twig snapped, another cracked and the echo shattered my forced calm. My heart raced with fresh fear. And then a sound touched my ear like a whisper.
“Morgan.”
I stopped dead and turned to face the dark forest.
“Morgan,” the voice whispered again.
Fear clenched my gut, twisting it. Tears pricked my eyes and goose bumps lined my flesh.
“Morgan.” My name, only my name, whispered in the wind.
I squinted into the darkness, straining to see beyond the dense line of trees.
“Morgan.”
Another snap of a branch had me turning on my heel, no longer curious or interested in discovering what lay beyond the protection of the property. With terror propelling me, I made it back to the house in less than a couple of minutes, the stitch in my side sending me down to my knees as I panted for air and looked fearfully over my shoulder at the forest line.
Something was out there, just as Cal had warned.
And it wanted me.
Chapter Sixteen
The Threat
Cal slid on his hand-wrap, then methodically began taping his wrist and knuckles, winding the tape with practiced ease. He was edgy and in a foul mood. Lance was out with the girls, jogging along the perimeter of the property as he liked to do and it had Cal anxious. He wasn’t keen on the idea of Morgan being out there so close to danger, even if the bastards couldn’t touch her—wouldn’t be able to get through the magical barrier. Why Lance couldn’t run on the treadmill, Cal would never understand.
But that was only part of the problem. The thought of suave Lance out there flirting with Morgan—as he was undoubtedly doing—had Cal even more riled up. It should have been him training with his Huntress, but after the night before, there was no way she would tolerate his direction. They needed some space from one another, and Lance was the next best choice when it came to training coaches. He wouldn’t let Morgan slack off.