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over the rock.
Aidan jumped at the same time, hitting the beast and taking the dog
down. The animal landed atop him, all snarling muzzle and twisting
limbs. Damn it all, he should have taken Grayson’s advice and fed.
As it was he was so weak he could barely fight the dog. The animal
threw back his head, snapping his large mouth at Aidan’s throat.
This was no young pup…but a seasoned warrior. He could only pray
the dog was not hunting in a pack.
    “Mary Ellen, damn you, run!”
    Aidan flipped the dog onto its back, shoving the
animal’s muzzle to the side. It was a fight of life and death,
Aidan knew it and the wolf knew it. Neither would relent. The
strongest would win. Vaguely he was aware of Mary Ellen struggling
to her feet. He could only hope she had sense enough to flee. It
would certainly make his work easier if he didn’t have to worry
about her.
    Aidan shoved his knee into the dog’s sternum. The
crack of ribs was barely audible over the cry of the animal. But
Aidan had little time to savor his victory, he was too bloody
focused on the daft woman he was infatuated with. Instead of
running toward the house as he’d told her, Mary Ellen ran toward
them. Disconcerted Aidan didn’t see the dog’s teeth coming. They
sliced through his jacket, shirtsleeves and skin with ease, leaving
behind a stinging numbness.
    “Shite,” he snapped, pushing himself to his knees.
He could feel the warm blood soaking his sleeve, trailing down his
arm and dripping from his fingertips. He jerked his sleeve down,
hiding the gaping wound but the blood soaked through the white
material. Thank God he wasn’t human.
    Seeing the blood, Mary Ellen stumbled to a halt,
stick in hand. “You’re bleeding!”
    He would heal, and much faster than a human but he
couldn’t tell her that. “If you’re going to help, then help!”
    She blinked, coming to her senses and shifted her
gaze to the dog. Her eyes widened, that pulse in her neck jumped to
life. But she didn’t waver this time. Instead, she swung the stick
forward and whacked the wolf upon his large head. The stick bounced
back, sending Mary Ellen stumbling a couple of steps. The dog
yelped and shook its muzzle, trying to rid the dazed feel. But it
wasn’t the hit to his massive skull, no…it was the broken ribs that
finally did the dog in. The animal stumbled to his feet and wobbled
off, disappearing into the woods, beaten, defeated.
    What the hell was a wolf doing here? As much as he’d
like to go after the animal and make sure it never returned, never
tried to hurt Mary Ellen again, he knew he couldn’t. The beast was
returning to its den and would have friends. So instead he let the
animal go, and he fell back to the ground, staring up at the gray
sky. If the dogs had taken over Grayson’s land, his friend would
have a fight on his hands.
    “What was that?” Mary Ellen whispered, hovering over
him.
    He had to resist the urge to latch onto her skirt
and jerk her down closer to him. He wanted to breathe in her scent,
to forget the smell of dog and blood. He wanted to make sure she
was well and kiss her so thoroughly that she would forget the
animal. “A wolf.”
    She frowned and tossed the stick aside. She was
panting, her hair had fallen in molten waves down around her
shoulders, and there was a tear in the hem of her gown. “There are
no wolves in England.”
    Hell. He resisted the urge to grin. She was no
stupid miss. She might like the finer things in life, she might
take pains to keep her clothing clean and speak softly when in
public, but here, now, with her hair down around her shoulders, and
her skirts twisted and torn around her ankles, she was a warrior
goddess. He didn’t know what to say, and so he did the only thing
he could…the only thing he wanted to do…he closed his eyes.
    “Aidan?”
    He didn’t respond.
    “Will the wolf return? Should we be worried?”
    No, he wouldn’t return, but still he didn’t respond.
There was the softest rustle of