by Dannika Dark
When Tak clucked his tongue, his horse trotted up beside mine, matching its pace. “You know, it’s none of my business, but you two seem very comfortable with each other.” He straightened his back and looked skyward. “Sometimes a man is more afraid to make the first move when it’s a woman he admires. She intimidates him. He’s afraid she’ll reject him, so it’s better if he rejects her first.”
“Sometimes the guy just doesn’t like the girl.”
He chuckled softly. “I know the look a man carries when his wolf has found a mate.”
I snorted. “That’s jumping the gun a little. We just met.”
Tak shrugged. “It hardly matters if you’ve known someone a lifetime or a minute. Our wolves always know who they belong to.” He leaned forward and petted his horse’s neck. “So, little wildflower, does your wolf sing for Sky Hunter?”
I pressed my heels to get my horse to trot ahead of him. Tak came across as the tough guy who liked to get under people’s skin for a laugh, and some of those jokes were hitting a nerve.
When we reached the house, only the women were outside.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
Tak slowed his horse. “The men are preparing for the ceremony. In our tribe, when a man dies, the men paint their faces black so the spirit won’t see them and hold on to this world. We hang out inside until dark and drink. The women stay with the body, sing to him, and prepare his soul to leave.”
“And when a woman dies?”
He whispered something in his language and glared. “Don’t say such things.”
We reached the clearing at the far end of the backyard and dismounted.
Tak gathered the reins of both horses. “You’ll stay in there,” he said, pointing at the small cabin.
“And you?”
“We journey to the burial ground and stay overnight, singing prayers and sending our brother to his next journey. A stranger would confuse him. All of us go, even the little ones, so you’ll be by yourself.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
He cocked his head to the side, looking at me with surprise. “You’re a compassionate wolf, but this is family. Stay inside the cabin tonight. His spirit will come back to remember his home and land before moving on, and it would be a bad omen if he saw you.”
“Is it okay if I get my purse out of the kitchen?”
He nodded and led the horses away.
Keeping my eyes respectfully low, I passed by the women. Some were sitting around the fire, and others were busy making beaded necklaces. A white blanket covered the wolf’s body, tucked around the edges to protect it. When I entered the house, it was eerily quiet. I hustled to the kitchen to retrieve my purse and spotted a bowl of fruit on the counter, which made my stomach growl. Lakota had given me a stern warning about taking food that wasn’t offered, though he could have spared me the lecture since I wasn’t brought up by jackals.
I dug around in my purse for my phone, but the battery had died. My phone charger was still in the Jeep, and I had a feeling that the small cabin out back wouldn’t have any outlets. No matter. Checking messages could wait.
When I put the phone back, my fingers curled around the chain to my turquoise turtle pendant. I studied the intricate silver filigree framing every stone. As I headed back outside, gifts were sitting on top of a folded quilt. I left the pendant necklace on the blanket, then hurried to the cabin by the tree line. I didn’t think Hope would mind, and it seemed like the appropriate thing to do.
Once inside the cabin, I closed the door and took a gander at my surroundings. I’d half expected it to be a dusty old shed full of spiders, but I was pleasantly surprised. Granted, it was small, no bigger than fifteen feet long and twelve feet wide. But it had all the essentials. The fireplace was made of stone, and a painting of a woman and child standing in a meadow hung over the mantle. Just to the right of the hearth was a tiny bathroom with a standing shower. A person could comfortably live here—eat at the table to the right, sit in the rocking chair by the door and have a beer, and retire at night in the small bed against the left wall. It had a brown-and-turquoise blanket that was clearly handmade. The cabin didn’t have a kitchenette or even a closet, but it was cozy, welcoming, and beautifully decorated.
I stepped on the rug. Wow. Not a speck of dirt anywhere—not even in the fireplace, which probably hadn’t been used since last winter. It wasn’t as upscale as the heat house my former pack had built, but the cozy and rustic atmosphere made it feel like a retreat.
I set my purse on the table and looked down at the chopped wood piled by the fireplace. Since the cabin didn’t have electricity, I gathered up candles and put them in the hearth. Maybe later on, I can sit in the rocking chair and…
Wait a second. What am I thinking? I need to get back home. This isn’t a vacation, and what if my stay lasts for weeks? I gripped the rocker and stared vacantly at the fireplace. With everyone gone tonight, I would have a chance to escape. But I wasn’t sure if that was the smart thing to do. I wasn’t the enemy in the eyes of the Shifters outside their property, so surely they would let me pass. Still, I had a seed of doubt. Aside from that, I didn’t want to be the catalyst for war because a few local yokels got the wrong idea. Maybe I didn’t understand the Iwa tribe’s perspective, but most of them seemed like good people who loved one another. Clearly they had a few hotheads, but Shikoba hadn’t exactly shackled me to the cabin against my will.
The room felt like a sauna, so I turned the latch and opened the casement windows that overlooked the backyard. A cool breeze fluttered in and aired out the room. After stripping out of Lakota’s clothes, I took a long shower. It had barely any water pressure, but at least I didn’t smell like a creek anymore. I dried off, wrapped the towel around me, and tucked it in at the top. Just as I entered the main room, a knock sounded at the door.
I rushed out to greet Lakota. “It’s about time. I thought—”
My words were cut off by the jarring sight of Shikoba in black face paint. What looked like bright-red tears were trailing down his face from each eye, and he was wearing an elaborate headdress of white feathers with black tips.
I stepped back to let him in.
He shook his head. “It’s almost dusk, so we must go.”
I nodded.
Shikoba reached around and revealed a large basket. “There’s bread and dried meat.”
I accepted the basket with reluctance. They had enough to worry about and shouldn’t have gone to the trouble. “Thank you.”
He waved his finger. “Not me. This is from Lena, the mother of Koi. What you did for her was thoughtful.” He tapped his hand against his chest where a pendant would be. “She wants to make peace with you.”
I grimaced. “Does she blame me for his death?”
Shikoba clasped his hands. “We come from the old ways. Some of us have been around since before the white man came, when we were still fighting human tribes. We have seen many changes, but uninvited visitors have always made us uneasy, and for good reason. She does not want to anger the spirits by burying her son with hatred in her heart. When a child is murdered, all a mother seeks is justice. They will never have understanding or peace, so they look for someone to blame. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been the storm. Or perhaps something else.”
“Tell her thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say. Sorry seemed like an inadequate word for the tremendous loss of a child.
Shikoba glanced around the cabin. “You’re safe here. The lights in the house will stay on so it looks occupied. Don’t step outside,” he cautioned. “And don’t let your wolf out.”
“I know. Tak filled me in.”
His eyes drifted upward. “A clear sky means Koi will have a good journey.”
“You don’t think he’s already gone where he needs to go?”
“He’s with his mother now. His spirit is trying to comfort her. It is our way of showing respect to the living when we die.”
I set the basket
Shikoba nodded, and I closed the door as he walked away.
“Melody? Wake up, lazybones.”
I squinted, my vision blurred in the darkness as I tried to make sense of the shadow looming over me. “Lakota?” I eased up on my elbows. “What time is it?”
“After dark. My wolf went for a long run. The funeral is probably underway now, so I came back to check on you. I didn’t see the lights on and thought you might have taken off.”
I chuckled softly. “There’s no electricity, so I lit a few candles. I just closed my eyes for a minute.”
“You fell asleep with the window open,” he said gruffly. Lakota stepped away and lit a second candle. “The wind must have blown out the candles.”
Yawning, I stretched my sore muscles. “I thought you changed your mind and went with them.”
He set the yellow candle on the windowsill and closed the shutters. “I’m not family. I knew Koi, but it would confuse his spirit to see me. Especially if he saw the truth of why I’m here.”
I sat up, my feet touching the floor. “You don’t really believe all that, do you?”
He knelt before the fireplace and lit a third candle, then a fourth. “Why shouldn’t I? Both sides of my family tell many stories, and I compare them to what I’ve heard from elders on some of my travels. There’s got to be some truth to it. The spirit goes somewhere. Can you imagine how hard it would be to leave behind your family? You’ve heard of Gravewalkers. They can see the dead.” He stood up and placed a fifth candle on the mantel. “Maybe seeing strangers would confuse your spirit and make you stay and protect your family. If that’s even a remote possibility, I don’t want to damn Koi’s spirit to limbo.”
“I’m going to stay and haunt you, Lakota Cross.”
He turned on his heel, his eyes sharp. “Don’t say things like that.”
My stomach fluttered. “I’m just kidding.”
Looking at Lakota in a pair of jeans reminded me that I still had on my towel.
“Here.” He tossed me a pile of fabric. “It was outside your door along with two bottles of water.”
I lifted the lightweight material. Someone had left me a brown nightshirt that reached my knees. It had a V-neck collar with crisscross laces. While Lakota lit a few more candles, I pulled the shirt over my head and stood up, the towel dropping to the floor. “Fits perfect. I feel so guilty that they did all this for me.”
“Did what?”
I gestured to the basket. “They also brought me food.”
Curiosity flickered in his eyes. “You must have made an impression on them.”
I decided not to mention the necklace. “You can eat if you’re hungry. I don’t mind.”
“You didn’t eat?” He lifted the basket and then sat in front of the hearth, placing everything on the rug. “Let’s see what we’ve got here. Flatbread, peppers, tomatoes, butter, jerky, blueberries, a slice of pie—most of this was harvested on their land. Except for maybe the pie. The elders don’t trust what humans are selling these days; it’s not natural. A lot of indigenous human tribes have gotten diseases since they began eating processed food. Obviously that won’t affect Shifters, but they prefer to live off the land as much as possible. Did you see their garden on the west side of the property?”
I shook my head.
“It’s big. I’d like to have something like that someday.” Lakota drew up one knee and folded a piece of bread. “I should light a fire.”
The air did have a slight chill.
I got up and hefted a log. “Will one be enough to keep you toasty warm?”
He laughed with a mouthful of bread. “I’m not cold, Freckles. It’s just too dark in here. Feels like I’m in your brothers’ backyard fort. Is that rickety old thing still standing?”
When the kindling crackled to life, I sat on the hearth. “As long as that pack has children, the fort will stand.”
Lakota tore off a strip of bread and used it to spread butter on the larger piece before offering it to me. A flush of warmth went through my body when his finger brushed against mine. It seemed like such an innocuous gesture, and I couldn’t figure out why I was having that reaction every time we touched. Maybe it was my wolf responding to the idea of someone feeding me.
“How’s your ass?” He gave me a one-sided grin.
I opened my mouth, uncertain if I’d heard him correctly.
Lakota pinched a few blackberries from a bowl. “I bet you’re sore from the long ride back.”
“Oh. That. It wasn’t so bad. Tak kept me company.”
A peculiar look flashed across his face, and he patted the spot beside him. “The rug’s nice and soft.”
“Okay.”
After putting the fireplace screen in place, I stood up and sat next to him on the rug. The log snapped a few times as the flames intensified. The warmth was immediate, the luminous glow sublime. I washed down the bread with a gulp of water and tasted the blackberries. The food was alive, awakening my taste buds to natural flavors that weren’t processed and hosed down with chemicals. It made me feel more connected to this place—to these people.
“You look good without makeup,” he said.
I combed my hair with my fingers. “I look like a mess is what I look like. No hair dryer.”
“I like my women a little on the wild side,” he said with a wink. Lakota leaned back on his elbows and glanced at the plate between us. “You’d better eat that pie.”
“They forgot the silverware.”
“Indulge me.”
When he licked his lips, it was so sensual that memories of our kiss flashed through my mind. Lakota had nice lips, the kind every woman dreamed about tasting. His hair had fallen away from his face, allowing the contours of his jaw to stand out. But it wasn’t his jaw or even his lips that I was looking at. His arresting eyes burned as hot as the flames in the fireplace.
I picked off a piece of the crust with my fingers.
“That’s a sad little bite,” he mused. “Since when is Melody Cole afraid to get her hands dirty? I remember a girl who once climbed to the top of a telephone pole on a dare.”
“And who’s the one that started it?” I reminded him. “I also recall the fire department coming to get me down.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “You threatened to pee on my head if I came up after you. What choice did I have? Hope didn’t want to get us in trouble by calling the pack. Anyhow, the firemen seemed tickled by it.”
“Oh, I’m sure. Having to get the ladder and rescue a girl from the top of a pole must have been the highlight of their day. They wanted to know what I was doing up there.”
“What did you tell them?”
I licked my finger. “That I wanted to make a call.”
We both erupted in laughter, and Lakota fell onto his back.
When he settled down, I set the pie plate on his chest. “You deserve this more than I do. That wolf back there wanted to kill me. If you hadn’t reacted when you did—”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Your arrow probably saved us, so we’re even.” Lakota lifted the wedge of pie, and two peach slices splattered onto his chest. He shoved what was left into his mouth, his cheeks as fat as a chipmunk’s.
I set the empty plate in the basket and moved it out of the way. “I hope you realize they didn’t bring us napkins.”
Lakota smiled as he swallowed the pie, and my eyes dragged down to the peach slices on his pec. “Waste not, want not. My people believe in sharing.”
I flicked his arm with my finger. “I know all about your people, and I don’t seem to recall your stepfather serving your mother dinner on his chest.”
He licked his thumb. “You never came over after midnight.”
Not one to turn down a dare, I leaned over and wrapped my mouth around a piece of fruit and ate it. Then I swirled my tongue around the sticky spot on his chest to lick off the juice.
Lakota sucked in a sharp breath, his response immediate. His pupils dilated as he watched with a look of surprise, and his entire body tensed beneath my touch.
Before I could sit back, he cupped his hand behind my neck and locked eyes with me. “Do that again,” he whispered. His hand softened its hold, his fingers petting my hair.
I leaned over, my eyes still on his, and devoured the last piece. He watched my mouth as I licked my lips, his chest rising and falling with each hurried breath. It saddened me that at such a young age, he’d made the decision to distance himself from women. That he’d never had a woman show him how desirable he was or make him feel alive with a sensual stroke of her finger, like what mine was doing with the peach juice around his hardened nipple. I’d never had a man react this way to my touch—as if he craved nothing else. Lakota had denied himself affection, and he was starved for it.
Even though he was lying submissively beneath me, his raw power vibrated, awakening my wolf. Now that I’d seen him in battle, I knew how expertly he could flip a man over and take his life.
Lakota cradled my neck in his hands, his gaze roving from my mouth up to my messy hair. He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with humor.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Neither of us can be serious.” I tried to move, but he pinned me against him.
“No, it’s not that.”
“Then what?”
He touched a lock of my hair. “I was just imagining what my adoptive parents would think of me bringing home a girl with purple hair.”
My heart raced, and I quickly sat up and quenched my dry throat with half a bottle of water. Was he actually implying that he wanted to bring me home to meet his family?
Lakota rolled to his side. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s… it’s just hot in here. Maybe we should put out the fire.”
His hand grazed across my bare thigh. “Maybe I don’t want to put out the fire.”
Chapter 13
Lakota lifted me into his arms and held me close. Instead of moving straight to the bed, he looked deep into my eyes as he stood in the center of the room. “I’ve never met a more courageous female.”
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