Page 24 of Call of A Eagle

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Page 24 of Call of A Eagle

LYRA

Iheaded into the bathroom and grabbed some bandages, rummaging through the selection we had on hand. Waylen leaned against the doorframe, watching me. He looked exhausted, not just from the fight, but as though he’d been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for far too long.

Was this what he’d been hiding?

My mind spun with questions while I gathered everything needed to clean his wounds.

Who was Xander, and what was the history between them? And Maribel—why was she so important? Why did he believe Granny knew her whereabouts?

I didn’t understand anything.

“We’re out of dried yarrow,” I said, closing the bathroom cabinet. “I’ll have to get some from the garden and make a poultice. You can wait for me on the porch, preferably with some clothes on.”

That was one good thing about being a bird shifter—you didn’t shred your clothes like some other shifters, you just slipped out of them when you gave way to your animal.

I brushed past Waylen, heading into the kitchen for the garden shears and the mortar and pestle beneath the sink. As I stepped off the porch and walked toward the back garden bed where I knew the yarrow was planted, I searched the sky and surrounding area for Xander’s raven, worried he might come back.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be lurking around.

After snipping what I needed for Waylen’s wounds, I headed back to the porch where he waited for me. He’d slipped his jeans back on but left his shirt off so I could tend to his wounds easily.

I did my best not to stare at his abs, but it was nearly impossible.

Even so, I forced myself to focus on cutting the yarrow into smaller pieces with the garden shears. Waylen’s eyes were on me, but he didn’t speak. He just watched me work. After I’d cut the yarrow up, I began grinding it with the pestle.

“I need to add some water,” I said, moving to head inside, taking the mortar and pestle with me. “I forgot the muslin, too. Stay here.”

“You know you don’t have to do this, right? It will heal on its own soon,” he insisted.

“I know, but this will help it heal faster.”

When I was inside, I glanced at Granny. She was still sleeping on the couch. A small smile graced my lips as I stared at her. Gratitude washed over me. I was so glad she was okay.

I made my way to the kitchen and added a splash of water to the ground yarrow. Once I’d grabbed a piece of muslin from the drawer, I headed back out onto the porch to Waylen.

“Seriously, you don’t have to do this,” he tried again, his voice almost a whisper as he watched me lay everything out on the tiny table between the porch chairs.

“I want to,” I replied, lifting my gaze to meet his.

Warmth spread through my chest, stemming from my owl.

He shook his head and dropped his gaze to the planks making up the porch. “I don’t deserve your help, or your kindness.”

“Why not?” I asked, my gaze narrowing on him. “You didn’t know that man would come after my grandmother and use her like that.”

Did he?

Waylen swallowed hard before lifting his gaze back to mine. “I knew there was a possibility, and I didn’t tell you.” He ran a hand through his hair. The gesture, mixed with the expression on his face, made him look so vulnerable. It tugged at something deep inside me. “I drew that monster straight to your doorstep.”

I dumped some of the poultice onto the piece of muslin I’d brought out with me and folded it in half, forming a compress for the area where Xander’s raven had pecked him. Then I placed it on the wound, covering it.

“Hold this here,” I ordered.

Waylen’s fingers brushed mine when he did as I said, and an electric current sparked to life beneath my skin. My heart raced as I held his gaze, the sparks still dancing where we touched. The air between us seemed to hum with the energy of that spark.

I’d never felt anything like it.

Even so, I knew what it meant—my owl did too—and from the look on Waylen’s face, so did he.




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