by Anna Lowe
She counted to ten, then stopped and hauled in a deep breath.
Ten. Ten days into the new year. And still no word from Axel.
The decorations in the dining hall had long since been taken down, the massive tree unceremoniously chopped into firewood. The wreath on the library door was the second to last item to go, and now there was just this one corner of the library left.
She fingered the tinsel. The last reminder of a special season, about to be swept away. She sat in the wingback chair, gripping the armrests as if it might be hauled away the way Axel had been taken from her.
She might have stayed there all day if Tana and Holly hadn’t burst in the library door, calling, “Is he back? Is he back?”
Beth stood quickly and strode to the circulation desk. Something tugged at her hand—
The tinsel ripped and fluttered to the ground, limp.
She stared, blinking back tears. Just a piece of tinsel. Just a piece of tinsel…
“When is Mister Axel coming back?” the children asked earnestly.
Tina was right behind them, shushing the children a split second too late. She shot Beth an apologetic look and did her best to explain.
“Girls, Axel is a javelina, and he had to go help…”
“Will Daddy go help the javelinas?” Tana cut in.
“No, sweetie.” Tina shook her head. “Axel’s father said they didn’t need any help.”
That was the part Beth wondered the most about. Surely if the matter was so urgent, the wolves of Twin Moon Ranch would honor their alliance and help the javelinas? But she’d been so focused on Axel the night he’d left that she hadn’t picked up on the exchange between Lothar and Ty.
“Are you sure they don’t need help?” Tana squeaked, saving Beth from having to work up the nerve to pose the question herself.
Beth looked at Tina, whose eyes spoke of genuine regret.
“I’m sure.” Tina nodded. “Believe me, we’ll be the first to help. I’ll be the first to help…” Her eyes begged forgiveness, as if she understood the leaden feeling in Beth’s heart.
I’ll be the first to help, Tina repeated, pushing the words into Beth’s mind. Make sure you tell me if you hear anything.
Beth’s eyes dropped to the ground. How on earth would she hear anything? Javelina shifters were known to remain in animal form for months at a time. They certainly wouldn’t stop to phone or text or write.
We heard our mate before, her wolf replied. We’ll hear him again if he sends his thoughts our way.
But that was the thing. Would he? Or had he already forgotten her?
Tina placed her hand on Beth’s arm, making her look up.
Make sure you tell me if you hear anything, all right? Tina looked deep into her eyes, trying not to alarm the kids.
Beth pulled Tina aside. “What did his father say that night?” Her voice was scratchy. Desperate, even.
Tina pursed her lips, shook her head. “Ty offered to help, but Lothar insisted they could take care of it themselves.”
“Take care of what?”
Tina threw her hands up exactly the way Beth barely refrained from doing, because once she gave in to that urge, she just might start hurling books across the library and howling her sorrow into the night.
“A pack dispute of some kind. I didn’t get the details.”
Beth swallowed hard. “Do they really have it under control?”
Tina studied her pensively, then allowed a curt shake of her head. “Lothar is a lot like my father. Too proud to admit he needs help from anyone, except maybe his own son.”
Beth had barely been keeping a hundred internal warning bells muffled, but Tina’s words set them all ringing at the same time. Tyrone, the retired alpha of Twin Moon pack, had sent his sons into a dozen suicidal missions over the years, all in the name of serving the pack. If Lothar was the same…
“Make sure you tell me if you hear they need help.” Tina grabbed both Beth’s hands. “Just give me the word, and I’ll come running. Rick and I both will.”
Beth lowered her head hopelessly. “But what if I don’t hear?”
Tina shook her head fiercely. “If he’s your mate, you’ll know when he needs you.”
She couldn’t quite drag her eyes off the ground. “But what if he’s not?”
Tina gripped her hands tighter, making her look up.
“He is your mate. Believe me,” she said with a weary smile. “I know. I didn’t want to believe it when it happened to me, either. But I saw you. I saw him.” She squeezed Beth’s hands. “I saw the way he looked at you. The way he turned when he heard your voice…”
She grinned at some memory, and Beth wondered if Tina was remembering Axel or her own mate. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe true love was true love, and nothing else mattered.
Nothing except for hundreds of miles of brutally harsh desert separating her from her mate.
“Believe me,” Tina finished, releasing her hands slowly. “You’re his, and he’s yours.”
Mine, Beth’s inner wolf growled in agreement.
Her gaze slid to the copper rose. She carried it to the library every morning and home every afternoon.
“Promise you’ll let me know if you hear from him,” Tina repeated. “Promise.”
Part of her soul swelled with hope; the other half shriveled with despair. But yes, she’d let people know, all right. She’d scream from the rooftops if Axel called for help.
She nodded, blinking back tears. It worked, at least for as long as there were others around. But when the door creaked closed behind the last library patron, she slumped into his chair, buried her face in her hands, and cried a river that refused to be dammed.
Chapter Seventeen
Axel ran in the dust kicked up by his father’s hooves.
And ran, and ran, and ran.
He ran for countless days and nights, stopping only for the briefest of breaks, until even his iron-willed uncle Gunther looked weary and worn.
It was so familiar – this rushing off to a different place, a different fight. This rootless feeling of minutes, hours, even days passing in a blur.
So like his life before, yet so different.
His hands felt cramped now that they were squeezed back into hoof shape. His skin itched. And every swipe of his tail took him by surprise, the same way the lack of a tail had in his early days at Twin Moon Ranch.
At least he was back to full strength. Maybe even stronger, because he had to hold himself in check to maintain his usual position at his father’s heels. His father and uncle darted glances at him, then at each other, before gritting their teeth and hammering on. Obviously, the months at Twin Moon Ranch had done more than just heal him. Whether that was due to the chance to slow down, the work in the smithy, the healthy ranch living—whatever it was, he was stronger now.
Stronger, and more determined. To get this mission over with, then get the hell back home.
Home. Beth. Twin Moon Ranch.
He’d left part of his heart back there—and most of his soul. The ironic thing was, he had a hellhound to thank for all that. A hellhound and half the blood in his body—the half that had seeped into the rugged earth of central Arizona in the wake of that fight and bound him forever to the place.
Not far now, his father grunted at sunset.
The same words he uttered every sunset and every day at noon. If Axel had a watch, he could set the time to it. But he sure as hell shouldn’t set a distance gauge by his father’s word, because that part was always exactly the same.
Not far now.
Way too far, he wanted to snort. Too far from Beth.
When they finally paused for a break, he curled up on the lumpy ground in the lee of a boulder, huddled his shoulders, and tried wishing himself to sleep.
If he closed his eyes, he could still feel her curled beside his body, her chest rising and falling with every breath.
If he closed his eyes, he could still feel her heart beating under his hand.
If he closed his eyes, he could still savor her flowery scent.
If he opened his eyes, however…
It didn’t feel like he’d fallen asleep, but he must have because, the next thing he knew, he was squeezing his eyelids together, trying to hang on to the dream. Until the lump at his side kicked and he had no choice but to wake up.
Move, his father grunted.
One syllable. Couldn’t he spare a couple more for something like Good morning?
Good morning, like Beth used to whisper, guaranteeing that the day would be good, because it all started with her angel’s voice.
Move, the old man barked, harsher than ever, as if he knew how far his son had strayed toward the human side of his dual shifter soul. As if he’d decided the cold slap of reality might be the best cure.
They ran on and on until the rich cedar scent of New Mexico hit his nose. Cedar tinged with yucca, and not a trace of desert rose. A couple of million hoofbeats later, he knew he was over the Texas state line. Normally, that would be his cue to sniff the buffalo clover. But why bother when all he wanted was to keep Arizona in his bloodstream for as long as he could?
Gunther’s head swiveled north, but his father grunted and angled south.
That’s where that no-good Kruesmann clan is moving in from, his father insisted. We’ll meet them at the bluffs.
Meet them? Axel could have snorted. His father might as well have said, We’ll fight them at the bluffs, or We’ll all shed blood at the bluffs, or We’ll try to gore the no-good bastards at the bluffs while they try to gore us. Because the only kind of diplomacy rival javelina packs knew was the kind on the pointy end of their tusks.
The bluffs? Axel didn’t bother masking his skeptical tone.
A boar could get lost in that maze within the canyonlands. Lose time. Get ambushed or flanked. Back on Twin Moon Ranch, old George had gone on about the shifter battles he’d survived in the wilder days of the Wild West, and he’d devoted as much time to describing long deliberations over advantageous positions and strategies as the fights themselves.
A wolf would never rush headlong into a place like Indigo Bluffs.
His father shot him a withering look. Yes. Indigo Bluffs.
Axel took a deep breath. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Especially when the dog was a stubborn old boar whose winning strategy had always been brute force.
So off he went, headlong in the direction of Indigo Bluffs. Not even stopping for a cautious sniff at the crack in the earth that signaled the boundary of that no man’s land. Not heeding the sunset, or the fact that there’d be no water ahead, or any of a dozen good reasons to stop and think. His father hurtled on, and Axel followed.
“Got it!” his father cried in triumph when they picked up the Kruesmann scent at last. A scent that led directly toward the bluffs. Obviously, the enemy had gone that way. Obviously, their path lay along the same line. Obviously…
Axel had to wonder if it was all too obvious, perhaps.
Father… he tried.
A snort ordered him to keep moving.
Gunther… He glanced at his uncle, whose teeth were bared, and gave up. The scarred old warriors were veterans of a thousand campaigns. They had to know what they were doing, right?
The voice of caution whispered in his mind. What if they’re counting too much on past experience? What if they’re wrong?
Axel barely had time to digest the thought when they sprinted around a bend and came skidding to a halt at the bottom edge of a vertical rock wall. A box canyon, with the sky barely visible in the narrow strip of an opening far, far up.
A dead end.
His father grunted and wheeled around to backtrack at exactly the same moment as a thunderous explosion sounded. They all ground to a halt, ears erect, nostrils twitching.
It wasn’t so much sound as motion, because the ground shook. An earthquake of a shake, except that it came with a clap of thunder and the acrid scent of gunpowder.
Dynamite?
Axel’s mind spun as a rock avalanche bombarded the canyon.
No way forward and no way back, not with rocks crashing down at their flanks.
Gunther! He body checked his uncle under a shallow rock ledge inches ahead of the first falling boulder. Refrigerator-sized boulders that hammered into the ground, pounding massive craters into the canyon floor.
Dad!
His father staggered under the glancing blow of a jagged rock.
Axel ducked his head—as if that would do much—and raced back into the open. He sidestepped a crashing boulder then leaped out of the way of a smaller, bouncing rock. The cliff groaned above him like a living, breathing, wounded thing. Signaling that there was more to come, and soon.
Dad!
He darted behind his father and butted him toward the sliver of shelter, ignoring the old boar’s limp. His uncle huddled under the rock ledge, urging them on.
Either his uncle was shaking or the earth was shaking or Axel was seeing double, because Gunther’s bristly shape blurred and bounced. Rock screeched against rock and a second clap of thunder—or dynamite?—echoed through the canyon.
Axel lunged for the shelter, tucking in his tail as another wave of boulders came crashing down. He inhaled and flattened his body against the cliff. It didn’t matter how much that hurt his ribs; it was better than being crushed by a slab of igneous rock. He bared his teeth, letting his mouth curl into a crazy smile at the thought. Igneous rock—something he’d read about in the library at Twin Moon Ranch. Beth’s library.
A second later, the smile vanished as the rockfall intensified, battering his body. It was the end. Somehow, the Kruesmann clan had done the unthinkable in the javelina world and tried a new tactic. They’d set a trap, and the Waldermanns had run right into it. Christ, he’d be crushed and buried here at the bottom of the bluffs. No one would know what happened.
Beth would never know.
A hundred regrets flooded his mind.
Beth, I love you.
A rock slammed against his haunches. He gritted his teeth and willed his thoughts to his true love, so far away.
I wish…
A boulder smashed into pieces a foot away, firing shrapnel at his body.
I wish I could hold you one more time.
Just when he’d learned the meaning of love and home, his time had run out.
Remember, my love—
A river of rocks pummeled his body, and everything went black.
Chapter Eighteen
Beth shot up out of Axel’s chair, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.
One second, she’d been curled up, sniffing desperately for the scent that was slowly fading out of her life, and the next, every nerve in her body was quaking in alarm. Her pulse pounded so loudly, she could barely hear the whisper in her mind.
Beth…
She fell to her knees, clutching her head at the anguished voice.
I love you.
Axel! She wanted to scream into the high rafters of the library. Where are you?
He sounded so far away. So anguished.
I wish…
The words trailed off, and her lungs froze at the uncertainty in his voice.
I wish I could hold you one more time.
Every nerve in her body cried at the finality in his words.
Remember, my love—
The words were cut off with startling abruptness.
Axel! she screamed, trying to reach his mind.
“Axel!” She screamed aloud a moment later when the silence stretched on.
She hugged her sides and rocked on her knees. Strained to listen. Please, Axel, please…
Nothing. Just the jackhammering of her heart.
Axel!
She closed her eyes and slammed her hands over her ears, trying to tune in to him. He’d been in her mind for a split second, and just as suddenly, he’d disappeared.
Desperate, she lurched to her feet and ran for the library door. Flinging
it open, sh raced outside, and—
What would she do? Run screaming through the ranch, trying to rouse help? Babble incoherently at anyone she crossed? She’d already been getting enough sympathetic looks; they’d think she had finally gone nuts.
She stopped in her tracks. The ranch was full of tough, capable men and women she could turn to. Because what could she do on her own? She was just Beth, part-time teacher and librarian. Not a huntress, like Rae. Not a warrior like Lana. Not a strategist like Tina. She was just Beth.
A cold finger of wind brushed her cheek and shot onward, swinging the library door farther open with a creak.
She was about to rush down the path for help, because she had to do something. But the wind called to her. The wind said, Think.
The library door swung wider, and sheets of paper ruffled on the circulation desk, fluttering and fighting under the weight of the copper rose.
The rose. Her rose.
She squinted in through the open door, focusing on it.
The rose that represented love, beauty, and strength. The metal shone under a desk lamp, radiating the latter most of all: strength.
She could practically hear Axel’s voice, whispering, It’s just like you.
Strong? Her?
She wasn’t even beautiful. Forget about being strong.
Think! Her mind spun. Think!
No one could help Axel if they didn’t know where he was, other than vague notions of his pack’s home base in Texas. But “somewhere in Texas” was a very big place. Even if she rustled up every fighting wolf on the ranch to help Axel, they’d need something to go on. Something—but what?
The papers flapped on the desk, rippling under the rose. The rose drew her back into the library, step by ponderous step. Fighting the urge to grab the phone and cry hysterically. Fighting to settle her mind, because the only way to help Axel was to think.
She cupped the rose in two hands, carried it over to his chair, and—
Instead of falling into the chair as she’d intended, her body swung right, facing east.
