by Cherie Marks
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Wicked Jackal
COPYRIGHT© 2015 by Cherie Marks
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Cover art by J.M Rising Horse Creations
Find other Woodland Creek stories here:
http://woodlandcreekseries.com
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Published in the United States of America by Cherie Marks
License Notes
Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book is the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review and encourage your friends to download their own copy, where they can also discover works by Cherie Marks.
Woodland Creek Series.
30 Authors. 30 Shifter Stories.
http://woodlandcreekseries.com
Anastasiya Petrov ran from her fate. The youngest of seven sisters and promised to one of the Princes of a rival pack, she refuses to be a bargaining chip. Instead, she flees to a remote area in the United States, changes her name to Tasia Connor, and settles into her new life.
Alex Chilikov might be an Estonian prince, but he was raised in the United States and loves it here, especially Woodland Creek, Indiana, where he's followed close behind his bride-to-be. She might be able to hide who she is from the others, but he'd recognize her scent anywhere, and he plans to use his trickster abilities to help him obtain what he wants. He wants out from under his own father's heavy thumb
However, he's not the only one searching for her. Her father has made some dangerous enemies, and though she continues to attempt to escape Alex's protection, he'll fight to keep her safe. Tasia will risk almost anything to keep her freedom, but only if she can resist a Wicked Jackal.
Dedication
This one is dedicated to the authors, illustrators, and designers of the Woodland Creek Series. Such a great idea for a series, such talented authors, and I’m so thankful you let me sneak past the bouncer at the door to dance at this party. Hope I did my part in this ambitious undertaking. You made the process creative and fun every step of the way.
Acknowledgements
A giant thank you again to my editor Teresa. You take the wormy caterpillar I hand you and give it wings every time. Without you, I’d struggle to show my face in public. But somehow you always come through and make me feel confident to hit that publish button.
My family is amazing. Hero hubbies are rare, but I am blessed with one of the best. Your support is invaluable. Thank you to my children for all the encouraging words. Glad I could give you multiple nights of more pizza and less vegetables.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Map
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Woodland Creek Series
About the Author
More From Cherie Marks
For more maps and information, please visit the
Woodland Creek Website
http://woodlandcreekseries.com/
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Anastasyia Petrov opened the door just a crack to confirm that the guards still stood just outside. She closed it with the slightest noise and sighed heavily as she crossed the room and stuffed another handful of clothing into her bag.
“You do realize this is one of the worst ideas in the history of ideas, little sister.”
With a twist of her lips and a meeting of her eyebrows, Anastasyia grumbled, “What else am I supposed to do? I cannot marry someone I have never met nor seen. Not even a photograph, Dasha. Could you do that?”
“I was lucky. I met Dmitry when we were so very young, and it was love at first sight. I was completely over the moon when father said we were to marry. That does not happen to most people, but then again, most people are not royalty. It is your duty to marry this prince of the Kostas pack in order to join our families and create peace between our people. You must do your duty.”
Anastasyia’s movements were jerky and forceful now as she stuffed more items into her bag. “Must I? This is the twenty-first century, and I am my own person. I have goals, and I have…started taking online classes.”
“What are you talking about? Does father know?”
“Come on, Dasha! Of course he does, but I think he looks at it like a hobby I have taken up. I think he still believes I will settle down and be happy being a wife and mother for the rest of my life.”
“It is not like it is a death sentence. I am very happy being married.”
“That is just the thing. It worked for you, Dasha, but think of our other sisters. Fabia, Svetlana, and Ekaterina never see their busy husbands, Michal took Helena so far away, we will never see her again, and poor, poor Tatiana has had five children in seven years. Can you believe she is pregnant again? Stelios should give the poor woman a break, let her freaking get up off her back every once in a while.”
Dasha laughed lightly and shook her head. “None of them are complaining.” She stood from the bed where’d she’d sat observing her youngest sister’s panic and crossed the short distance between them. Dasha rested her hands, arms extended, on Anastasyia’s shoulders, and brushed away a few blonde strands. She trapped her gaze with a long, endearing look before saying, “You are still so young. You have not had that moment yet.”
Truly curious, she asked, “What moment?”
Straightening, Dasha stared at a spot over her sister’s head and explained, “There will come a time when you meet the gaze of the most attractive face you have ever seen, and you see your forever future laid out in his eyes. I know that is a fanciful description, but it is not something easily clarified. You will just know it when it happens.”
“That is utterly ridiculous, Dasha. Even for a romantic like you,” Anastasyia scoffed.
“Maybe, but it is real. You will feel it in your abdomen and…lower.”
Anastasyia made a gagging sound. “Spare me, please. I do not need an education about that, thank you very much. Even if I do not think about sex constantly, I am not completely innocent.”
“You are in more ways than you realize.”
“Besides, I have other plans. No offense, but I have dreams and aspirations beyond being a petted princess. There is nothing wrong with your life, but that seems to be the only choice for the women here. That is not for me.” She swung her hands wildly around the walls of her room before continuing, “I have to go somewhere away from here. All these gorgeous paintings and sculptures around me, and I am just supposed to pass them day in and day out. I want to do more with my brain. I want to go somewhere that I can become an expert on these pieces. I want to chase my own interests and become som
eone.”
Dasha closed her mouth, clearly a little caught off guard by her sister’s tirade. But she nodded her head and took a step back. “I do not think running away is the way to handle your problems, but if your mind is set on this course of action, let me at least help you.”
“Why? So you can run to father and tell him exactly where he can send his goons to drag me back to the altar?”
“Trust me more than that, sister. As the two youngest children, we have stuck together through many a nanny-tirade. I would never tell father anything you asked me to keep secret. Maybe I do not agree with what you are doing, but I understand why. I respect your motives, and I am willing to help you.”
Anastasyia zipped her bag closed and shoved it into Dasha’s hands. “I am going for my morning run. Will you meet me at the forest edge? Right at the end of the Reserve. I have arranged transportation to Tallinn and from there to Stockholm.”
“Where will you go from there?”
For the first time, concern crept along every inch of Anastasyia’s skin. She really hadn’t thought that far ahead, and now she realized just how foolish she was being. Could she really leave everything she’d ever known in her life? Could she travel to an unknown place and make her own way? Certainly, she had doubts.
“I do not know for sure. My English is good, and I have some money I have managed to save. Plus, if things get really bad, I have my jewels. I could sell them for a nice chunk.”
Dasha groaned loudly. “How will you even know whom you can trust?”
Anastasyia felt her plan crumbling like bread crumbs through her fingers. “I will figure it out. I have to. It is the only choice if I want control of my own future.”
She straightened and took a measured step toward the door. She was a royal Golden Jackal shifter, and it was her father that had instilled in her the belief that no matter how dire the circumstances appear, a jackal will find a way. As her resolve increased, so did her pace, and she didn’t hesitate for a moment as she whipped the entrance to her room open.
“I am going for my morning run. Follow if you must, but stay far enough back that I do not feel you breathing down my neck.”
Without another word, she swept past the two guards and made her way to the top of the stairs that led to the foyer below. A quick glance showed the two guards dutifully walking behind her, and with a furtive look out the bedroom door, her sister exited and turned the opposite way with Anastasyia’s getaway bag slung over her shoulder.
As she focused her gaze forward and descended the stairs, Anastasyia’s father, Olev Petrov, exited his study and paused at the bottom.
“Where are you going, Ana?”
She stopped right in front of her father, tipping her head back to meet his hard gaze. “My morning run. That is if I am not a prisoner in my own home.”
He ignored her words meant to incite a break in his cool demeanor, which it didn’t of course. He crossed his arms and stated, “Just remain on our land and within sight of Mischa and Peiter.”
She heard the two shadows mentioned by her father clear their throats behind her. If only her father knew her plan to shake them as soon as she could, he’d never let her out the door. But she couldn’t let her father get suspicious. For now, she’d play the good child as long as she could.
“Of course, Papa. If it is important to you.”
He stared at her a few silent seconds, probably already doubting her sudden obedience. Yet, his gaze tightened as he said, “I just received word that your groom will arrive at the end of the week, daughter.”
Anastasyia ground her molars together, tamping down her anger. She didn’t want to give him any reason to watch her more closely than he already did—not if she wanted to actually escape the fate he intended for her.
“Should I be happy to hear that? Because I am not.” Somehow, she’d kept her tone calm.
“We will not argue this again, Ana. Happiness is fleeting and means nothing over your future security. You will be married to the Kostas prince whether it makes you happy or not.”
Like a chaotic sea, raucous emotions roiled inside her chest, but she only asked one seemingly inconsequential question, “A week? Why so long? Does he not wish to rush to my side as quickly as possible?”
“As I explained to you, he was not raised here, though Estonia was his family’s ancestral home. It will of course take him time to come and collect you.”
This was news to her. Perhaps she should listen a little better, but it really wouldn’t have helped. “Collect me? You make me sound like a painting for which you have engineered the sale and transport. Do you hate me so much, you would send me far, far away?”
For the slightest moment, Anastasyia thought she saw genuine hurt in his eyes, but it quickly faded, and his shoulders slowly rolled back until he appeared solid as a steel beam. Yet, he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek as he explained, “This decision was not motivated by hatred. I have much to worry me lately, and I do not want any of that to affect those in my care.”
He spoke in riddles, and the familiar frustration welled up inside her. “What are not you telling me? Something is wrong, and I miss when you would talk to me. But ever since mother died, you have seemed so distant. You are hiding things.” She placed her own hands around the one still lovingly holding her cheek and pulled it down, gripping it tightly. “Please, please, father, do not send me away with a stranger. I do not want to leave you.”
His eyes softened, and briefly, she allowed herself to believe he might relent. Call the whole thing off, but then she saw the steely change in his demeanor as he pulled his hand free and stepped back, clearing his throat.
“Perhaps your mother was a bridge between us, my voice of reason when all else failed, but now that is no longer an option. Nothing will dissuade me from this path. Ready yourself because you will be a wife by week’s end.”
Without another word, he swiveled on his heel and strode back into his study, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Anastasyia’s breath escaped in a huff as she realized she’d been holding it in hope he’d say the words she needed to hear. Instead, he’d made it clearer than ever that she had no other choice.
Her mind made up, she treaded through the front door and down the steps, barely making it to the trees before she shifted into the form of a Golden Jackal. She went to all fours and felt her golden pelt grow instantaneously around her suddenly too tight skin. Her delicate facial features elongated as they transformed into a more canine appearance. It felt good, freeing even, to let go of the anxieties of her human form. She felt wilder, more in touch with her animalistic self, and she lifted her head, released a high-pitched, short howl before taking off into the dense forest of Lahemaa National Park.
She knew her two guards had shifted also and were close on her heels, but she’d expected that. Her goal was to lead them in the wrong direction, slip away from their watchfulness, and double back. She was relying on her frequent trips into the park to confuse them. Her scent should be all over the massive stretch of land, and she hoped they struggled to track her most recent trek until it was too late. The jackal part of her loved the trick, and she imagined that if a casual observer saw her currently, they’d wonder whether a canine could actually wear a grin.
A little doubt wormed its way into her consciousness again, but the animal in her quickly squashed it, putting distance between the guards and herself. It was simple really. If she stayed here, just like her older sisters, she’d be wed and shipped off with the stranger her father had chosen. If she ran, she’d choose her own fate.
She pushed her run even harder, until her paws barely touched the ground. Ultimately, her father intended to send her away at any rate. This way, she simply saved him the trouble and expense of a wedding.
She felt the wind whipping over her fur as she ran faster, finally pulling away from her unwanted followers. In reality, the choice wasn’t difficult, and now that her mind was made up, there was no turning back.
>
She was beyond beautiful. Anastasyia Petrov stared back at him from the photograph, her flirtatious, bright-blue eyes seeming to stare right into him, causing his chest to tighten with just the simple likeness of her. Her hair was long and flowed in soft, white-blonde waves over her shoulders. Straight nose, oval face, high cheekbones all added to her attractiveness. Her full lips curled up in a closed-mouth smile, and he wondered what she’d been thinking at the time. She looked amused, and he wanted to be in on the joke.
“Do you think you are up to the task, Alex?”
Alexandr Chilikov looked up from the picture and stared across the small sitting area at his future father-in-law, Olev Petrov. Well, they’d be in-laws if he could catch up to his now runaway bride. It was the last thing he’d wanted to encounter after a long, cramped flight. His head pounded as he thought of the time he’d apparently wasted in coming here. It wasn’t like he’d been overjoyed to be tied to an Estonian princess from the Valk shifter pack. His current life didn’t often include pampering and luxury. Yet, his father had insisted he didn’t have a choice, not if he wanted to walk away from the family business forever.
And he did want that, more than anything.
“Do you know what I do for a living, sir?”
“I had heard you were something like a criminal investigator?”
Alex pulled in a deep breath and released it slowly. “The best way I can explain my skill set is to compare it to a kind of bounty hunter. I hunt down shifters who’ve skipped town instead of facing the judge of sorts. It’s dangerous and time-consuming, but I’m good at what I do. My tracking skills are stellar, so when I answer I’m not exaggerating in the least. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m up to the task, but I have a question for you.”
“Of course.”
