Her Fate, His Choice

She tried cracking her eyes open, but her whole body revolted as she attempted to move. Her head was pounding in sync with her heart, and she heard some shuffling around. Trying to shift, her back screamed in pain, and then hands gently pushed her back onto the soft bed. A deep male’s voice told her to calm, assuring her safety and the need to just rest.

"What..."

"Shush... I found you, saw your plane crash, and went to check if anyone made it. Had to yank you out of that wreckage."

As she started remembering, she realized she was with her older brother on his first solo flight, cruising low to spot some elk. Accidentally, he clipped a tree, and from there, her memory went blank.

"My..."

The guy she couldn't see got tense. He knew she wasn't alone in the plane, and he wasn't keen on finding out the other dude's connection with her. Not when he had his eyes set on her and was ready to brawl with any rival.

"Brother..."

His shoulders slumped; he had pulled her brother out first, but he didn't make it. When he heard her moan, he tore apart what was left of the little plane to free her. Watching her fight for life in the past three days, he admired her strength, considering her stronger than any of the folks in his pack.

"Forgive me, I hustled to free him, but he was a goner when I pulled him out."

Amy bawled, burying her face in the pillow, feeling the weight of loneliness without any family left. Wolfgang empathized, getting teary-eyed himself at the sight of her grief. He comfortingly stroked her back, pulling out a hanky to dab her face when she paused in her crying. Holding the hanky to her nose, she blew, and when she finally calmed down, he spoke, "Then I heard you, and you became my concern."

"How long was I out?" she sighed.

"You've been wrestling with a fever for three days. Broke this morning."

"How bad?"

He winced, mentioning how the pack's doc had been skeptical about her survival. Her wounds were gnarly, and he doubted even a hospital could guarantee recovery. Plus, he questioned whether one of their own could bounce back from such injuries.

"Broken ribs, cuts, bruises, three nasty gashes down your back, fractured collarbone, whip lash, fractured left tibia..."

"Stop... pummeled covers it." She chuckled, appreciating the humor.

"You're on your stomach because every time we've tried to flip you on your back, the stitches split, and we gotta redo them. So, please, try to stay still."

She nodded slightly. Then her bladder demanded attention.

"I need to... pee." The blankets shifted, and she tensed, realizing she was butt naked underneath.

"Relax... it's just me here, so I'm the only one who can help you. Besides, I've been sponging you down; I've seen everything."

Blushing, she felt Wolfgang's calloused hands gently lift her hips, placing what seemed like a bedpan, but with a leak-proof cupping design. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to relax and felt the warm flow when her bladder was empty.

"Done."

He removed the pan, gently wiped her dry, settled her back on the bed, and slid the blankets back over her.

"Give me a moment, and I'll bring you something to drink and eat."

"I'm Amy..."

He smiled. "Hello, Amy, I'm Wolfgang."

She heard the door creak open, and he slipped out of the room. Trying to move her head to check out the room sent pain racing through her body. Wolfgang returned.

"Whip lash," he said, handing her a straw. "Water. Let me know if it's too cold." She sipped, finding the water just right.

The moment she stopped sucking, he pulled the water away.

"Better, but I still feel sticky,"

"Eat first, then I'll set up a sponge bath."

She sighed. He gently rolled her onto her side and even more carefully onto her back, propping her up. Sweat streamed down her forehead, and he wiped it away.

"Feeling any pain?"

Amy's throat tightened in surprise as she finally laid eyes on her savior. She had figured he was a big guy, his voice deep and rumbling, but Wolfgang had a body that could make a bodybuilder envious. Just shy of seven feet tall and broad at the shoulders, a white cotton shirt clung tightly to his chest, and tight black jeans accentuated sculpted thighs on narrow hips.

He had long black hair tied back in a ponytail, and serious blue eyes studied her. She swallowed, suddenly nervous—there was something about him that made her all tingly inside.

"Yes," she admitted, and he reached for a bottle of pills, tipping two into his hand. Prepping some water, he dropped one pill on her tongue. She swallowed it down with a sip, and he repeated the process with the second pill.

"What was that?"

He chuckled.

"I have a doctor on call. He checked you out and has been treating you. I think it's some good painkiller, but I didn't really ask. He just said to give you two when you woke up before eating, then two every four hours."

Setting the water aside, he offered her a scoop of soup, blowing on it before presenting it to her. It felt weird being fed by him, but she knew her arms couldn't handle the spoon even if she tried.

"He didn't happen to tell you how long I'll be bedridden?" She sighed.

"In his words, as long as it takes."

"Why didn't you just take me to a hospital?"

He offered her another scoop of soup, and she swallowed.

"You would've kicked the bucket before we got you halfway to the nearest hospital. Plus, we've got everything we need right here to fix you up. My old man used to run a clinic, and when he passed, everything got moved here. We always keep medical supplies since we're so far from everything."

She nodded. He offered her more soup.

"So, where am I?"

"My home, right smack in the middle of the privately owned nature reserve known as Wolf Haven," he said, offering her more soup.

"So, we'll be spending a lot of time together."

Wolfgang smiled, secretly hoping they'd be spending the rest of their lives together.

"Yes."

"Okay, then tell me about yourself. How old are you, and what do you do for a living?"

Wolfgang offered her another scoop of soup. Amy scratched at the needle set into her hand, and Wolfgang playfully slapped her hand, silently telling her to stop scratching. He was glad she brought this up; he wanted the same info from her.

"Well, let's see." He thought about what he would say. Age was simple; twenty-nine years old. Job was simple too, but about the fact he was a Werewolf, he was going to spill eventually, just not yet. At least, he wanted her to want him before he went down that road.

"I'm twenty-n