by Kristie Cook
The plaintive cry of a lone wolf sank a hook of desire behind River’s navel. The hut wasn’t hot. She was.
She hoped Reuben and Gabriel had found a wolf for Jonathan. Reuben had told her to wait for them in the hut, but she was too restless. Maybe she’d feel better if she were outside. She wouldn’t go far, just enough to figure out which direction her wolf was calling her from.
River dressed quietly to keep from waking Jonathan and slipped outside. The cold air didn’t cool her fever. It only burned hotter. Her wolf howled again. River dug her nails into the porch railing and fought the pull. She wouldn’t merge without Jonathan. Where was Reuben? And where was Jonathan’s wolf?
She ran as if in a dream. Long, blue shadows, like fingers, reached out from the forest, clawing their way across drifted snow. The pull grew stronger. River ran faster, even though her lungs burned.
When she finally found her wolf, the animal’s beauty stole the last of River’s breath. Its white fur sparkled in the moonlight as if it had been dusted with diamond powder. The wolf lifted her nose into the air and howled then trotted towards River.
“Hello my lovely. I’ve missed you.”
The wolf slowed to a walk, but didn’t stop.
River dropped to her knees and held her right hand out, fingers splayed.
The wolf stretched its neck and sniffed River’s hand then rubbed its downy muzzle against her cheek.
A tingling sensation ran down River’s spine then spread across her torso, down her arms and legs, into her fingers and toes. The sensation intensified until her entire body hummed with energy. It took every ounce of strength she had left to pull away. “No. Not yet. We have to wait for Ephraim’s son.”
Another wolf, a majestic, solid black male, stepped out of the forest, into the moonlight. He lifted his nose to the sky and howled. The white wolf joined him. Their song brought tears to River’s eyes.
The white wolf pressed her forehead against River’s chest and trembled.
River wanted to wait for Jonathan, but fate had other ideas. At least his wolf was near. She’d have to trust it to guide Jonathan through their merge. She should have known that the son of Ephraim’s merge would be mutual, too.
“Forgive my lack of faith.” River slid her hand over the white wolf’s back. She felt its fear as if it were her own. The wolf knew it was going to die. But she still gave herself to River.
Grief wrapped its thorny vines around River’s throat and squeezed. She didn’t want to trap the wolf’s spirit. But this was their destiny.
River wrapped her arms around the wolf’s chest, close to its head, and prepared for the coming ordeal.
The humming energy triggered a vibration deep inside River’s body. She felt as if she were falling apart—as if whatever held her intact were dissolving.
The wolf whined and trembled but did not try to escape.
“I’m so sorry.”
A sudden burst of pain lit up every nerve in River’s body. It seemed to begin and end in the exact same moment—like an explosion. It knocked the breath out of her and threw her to the ground.
Her first lungful of air delivered an overwhelming variety of scents—pine, snow, dirt, birds, smoke, man and wolf.
River rolled onto her side then scrambled to her feet. All four of them. Her body trembled. She was supposed to shift back to her human form as quickly as possible after merging, but there was too much adrenaline in her blood. The urge to run was almost as strong as the urge to merge had been.
She took a breath and marveled at the way her lungs expanded. Her muscles quivered with power as she flew across the snow covered ground. She howled her joy without slowing down.
An answering cry in the near distance raised her hackles.
River skidded to a stop, lifted her nose in the air and took another whiff. She recognized her own scent and her mate’s. But there was another wolf in their territory. A male. An involuntary growl rolled out of her throat when she recognized the wolf’s scent. Even though she’d never noticed it as a human, some part of her brain must have stored the information because she knew, without a doubt, that the third wolf was Eli.
Jonathan
The distant howl of a wolf disturbed Jonathan’s dream. He blinked and stared at the rough-hewn ceiling. It took him a moment to remember where he was. And who he was with. He smiled and rolled over.
River wasn’t in bed. And it was freezing in the hut. The grey light of early dawn poured through the partially open window. No wonder it was so cold.
“River?” Jonathan got up and looked outside. She wasn’t there. Maybe she’d heard the wolf’s howl and gotten up to go check on the horses. Or maybe she was out rounding up wolves for that merge thing. He hoped not. At least not before breakfast.
Jonathan threw his clothes on and shoved his feet in his boots. He hissed with pain as he strapped on his prosthesis. River had told him not to wear it until she had a chance to make pads for it, but he couldn’t hold his bow without it. And River never said he couldn’t shoot the damn wolf, only that he had to subdue it. An arrow through the heart would subdue anything.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end when he noticed River’s bow under her bed. She never went anywhere without it. Something was wrong.
Jonathan strung his own bow, grabbed his quiver then ran to the stable. The horses were fine, but there was no sign of River. He cupped his hand around the side of his mouth and called her name. “River!”
The wolf howled again, but River did not answer. Jonathan threw Saucy’s hackamore on then led him outside and positioned his left rump against the barn. “I don’t have time to fool around. You’re going to let me mount from the right whether you like it or not.”
Saucy didn’t like it at all. Jonathan vaulted on successfully the first try, but Saucy paid him back by slamming Jonathan’s knee against the barn.
Jonathan rode back to the hut and found River’s tracks heading east. “What the hell is she up to?”
Jonathan had faith in River’s survival skills, but the fact that she’d run off, unarmed, on foot, without telling him, tied his stomach in knots. The howling wolves only made it worse. She’d made it clear last night that they needed to do this together. At least her tracks in the otherwise unbroken snow were easy to follow.
Blood roared behind his ears when he spotted her discarded coat lying on the snow. He slid off Saucy’s back and picked it up. Her shirt fluttered in the breeze a few yards ahead of him—her boots, socks and pants marked the trail like beacons. He gathered River’s clothes and stuck everything inside her coat, but he wouldn’t be able to hang on to everything on horseback. “Shit!”
Jonathan hadn’t given any thought as to how he was going to get back on Saucy without a fence to climb on or a wall to pin the stubborn animal against so he could mount from the right. It was at least ten degrees below zero. River wouldn’t last long without clothes.
“Okay, think!”
Saucy turned his head toward Jonathan and blew puffs of steam out his nose, asking for a ration of feed. The horse knew that when Jonathan dismounted the ride was over and it was time to eat.
Jonathan patted his neck. “Sorry, no feed bags out here.”
For some reason Jonathan’s mind made the leap from feed bag to saddle blanket. He draped River’s coat over Saucy’s back.
Saucy twitched his hide as if trying to dislodge a fly, but that was his only reaction. Jonathan put River’s pants, shirt and vest on top of the coat, then decided it would work better to have the coat on top, holding everything in place. He tied her boots together, stuffed her socks inside then hung them over Saucy’s withers.
Even though he’d been warned not to, Jonathan wound a handful of Saucy’s mane around his prosthesis. If he missed or spooked the horse, he’d get trampled and dragged to death before he could untangle himself. He vaulted onto Saucy’s back from the left without a problem.
Jonathan double checked to be sure River’s clothes were secured und
er his butt, hung her boots around his own neck so they wouldn’t flop around on Saucy’s, then urged him into a mile-eating canter.
Jonathan called River’s name every five minutes, but the only answer he ever got was the howl of a wolf. When it got too close for comfort, Saucy crow hopped and tossed his head. Jonathan pulled his bow off his back, locked it into his prosthesis and reached for an arrow. He knew before he saw the whittled tip that he’d grabbed a practice arrow. The point was about as sharp as a crayon. But according to River, his bow was powerful enough to take down an elk. Of course she’d assumed he’d be using a hunting arrow with one of her razor sharp hand-knapped points to do it.
If he could get close enough, the practice arrow might pierce a wolf’s hide. More than likely it would only infuriate the beast. Jonathan pulled his quiver around to the front of his body to look for an arrow with a sharper point and found one of Gabriel’s hunting arrows. He put the shaft in his mouth and dug his heels into Saucy’s sides.
Another set of tracks flowed out of the forest and merged with River’s.
Jonathan slowed Saucy to a walk and leaned over to get a closer look. The prints were as big as his palm. He didn’t know if it was a mountain lion or a wolf, but it didn’t matter, with River unarmed and weak, both were deadly.
The thought of a wild animal tracking River sent Jonathan into a full-blown panic. He kicked Saucy’s flanks, urging him to go even faster. Not taking into consideration that the closer they got to the wolf, the less Saucy was going to like it.
Jonathan had his gaze focused on the ground so when Saucy put on the brakes, he had no time to react. He flipped as he flew over Saucy’s neck and landed on his back. The snow cushioned his fall, but it still knocked the wind out of him.
His bow was still attached to his prosthesis but miraculously unbroken. The feathered end of Gabriel’s arrow peeked out of a snowdrift ten feet to his right. Jonathan offered a brief prayer of thanks when he pulled it out and found the arrowhead in perfect condition. He found his quiver with three of his practice arrows. He didn’t waste time searching for the others. Or gathering up River’s scattered clothes. If he didn’t find her before the predator did; she wouldn’t need them.
He pressed the medallion containing Franklin’s feather against his heart as he stumbled forward. If you can hear me, Frankie, I need your help. Help me find River before it’s too late.
A low growl froze Jonathan mid-step. Wolf, not lion. The sound came from behind him. The animal must have realized it was being pursued and circled back around. Better me than River.
Jonathan nocked Gabriel’s arrow as he eased his body around. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the wolf in his peripheral vision, he recognized its black fur and white blaze on its forehead. It was the same wolf that’d chased him and Carrie out of the mine a lifetime ago.
The wolf’s eyes widened as if it recognized Jonathan. Maybe it did.
He didn’t want to kill the animal, but he couldn’t risk letting it get to River. He drew his bow and sighted down the arrow. The tip bounced with every beat of his heart. Calm down. He’d been hitting targets twice as far away as the wolf. I can do this. River’s life depends on it.
The wolf turned, exposing his flank. Jonathan released the arrow just as the wolf leapt over a fallen log.
A yelp of pain meant he’d hit it. The prolonged whine and din of a heavy body crashing through the undergrowth, meant it wasn’t an immediate kill shot. He had no idea if the wound was fatal. A quick inspection of the ground on the other side of the log revealed a bloody trail heading deeper into the forest, away from River’s tracks. But Jonathan didn’t trust the wolf, or his marksmanship. He prayed as he ran, even though he didn’t trust God either. What faith he had, died with Franklin.
Jonathan’s lungs burned. His legs trembled. The stitch in his side twisted his upper body to the right but he refused to stop. He ran until he couldn’t run any more. He fell face first in the snow, but was too exhausted to do anything other than roll onto his back. He felt as if every muscle in his body were cramping. Pain wracked his chest. Jonathan was young and strong, but maybe he’d pushed himself too hard. Healthy young men died of heart attacks all the time. I’m so sorry, River.
Something blew a musky puff of air into Jonathan’s face. He opened his eyes, the only part of his body he had the strength to move. A huge, black wolf was standing over him, looking at him with its head cocked to the side. At first, Jonathan thought it might have been the wolf he shot, but this beast was even larger and solid black, without a speck of white on him.
Jonathan should have been terrified, but he wasn’t. He was strangely drawn to the animal. He sat up. The wolf lowered his head and sniffed Jonathan’s chest.
Weird. Jonathan reached up and stroked the wolf’s shoulder before he could stop himself. Was this what River was talking about? She’d said that he’d know what to do instinctively, but this was crazy. He couldn’t believe this was a wild animal. Maybe it was one of the tame wolves that only cowards merged with.
The wolf bared its teeth and growled, as if it could read Jonathan’s mind and was offended that he’d thought him a ‘tame’ wolf.
Jonathan dug his fingers into the wolf’s coat. An electric charge ran up his arm into his chest. Every hair on his body stood on end. He’d felt something like this once before, during a lightning storm.
The wolf’s fur was all puffed out, too. He shook like a wet dog then licked Jonathan’s face. From the base of his jaw, across his cheek, all the way to his temple. Energy roared into Jonathan’s body. Is this what River was talking about. Was he merging with his spirit guide?
The wolf bunched the muscles of his haunches then leapt over Jonathan and loped away.
Jonathan felt energized and compelled to follow him, but River was still out there somewhere. The wolf could wait.
He’d been running for about half an hour when a new set of prints came in from the west and merged with River’s. But these prints gave Jonathan hope. Horse shoes.
A tendril of smoke curled above the trees. Jonathan followed River’s trail back into the forest. He heard Gabriel arguing with her before he saw either of them.
“If you don’t let me cure you—you’ll die.” Gabriel sounded more angry than concerned. Why was River refusing treatment?
“I want Jonathan to cure me.”
“Jonathan isn’t here. I am.”
The adrenaline fled Jonathan’s blood stream as soon as he heard River’s voice. He fell to his knees, too spent to do anything other than breathe.
“You haven’t merged yet.” River sounded as if she were crying.
“I don’t care.”
“Without your spirit guide, you’ll age and die before your first century.”
“And you’ll die within the hour.”
River was obviously still in danger. Jonathan struggled to his feet.
He stumbled into a sheltered clearing and found River and Gabriel sitting on a buffalo robe by a small fire. River was sitting on Gabriel’s lap tucked inside his coat.
“River?” Jonathan was so out of breath, his voice was barely audible to his own ears, but somehow, River heard him.
“Jonathan?” A smile of pure joy spread across her face as she jumped to her feet. She didn’t look like she was dying.
An inappropriate blast of jealously clawed its way out of Jonathan’s chest, into his throat.
River was alive and that’s all that mattered. So what if she’d been sitting on Gabriel’s lap, buck naked. At least the boy still had his pants on. He was probably just sharing body heat, to keep River from freezing to death. That’s probably what she was throwing such a fit about. She wanted Jonathan to warm her up, not Gabriel.
He opened his arms.
River flung her naked body against Jonathan’s chest.
He still had his bow attached to his prosthesis so he gave her a one-armed hug. “What’s going on? Why’d you leave?”
“I merged with my spirit guide!”
She palmed his cheeks with fever hot hands and smashed her lips against his. That ruled out hypothermia. She was burning up.
He kissed her back, then pulled away and gazed into her glowing, purple eyes. He’d never seen them shine so brightly. Their brilliance put the moon to shame—and warmed his entire body, heart, mind and soul. “Are you sick?”
“I have merge fever.” She frowned as she peered into his eyes. “I smell your wolf, but you didn’t merge. Why not?”
“I don’t know.” It must not have worked after all. “What do you mean you can smell my wolf?”
Jonathan glanced at Gabriel and caught him brushing tears off his cheeks. He returned his gaze to River’s pulsing eyes. He’d never seen anything like it. “Did you guys hear the wolves howling?”
River laughed. “One of them was me.”
“One of them was tracking you. But I took care of it.”
River’s laughter died. The color drained from her face.
Gabriel looked as if he might throw up. “What do you mean you took care of it?”
“I shot it.”
Chapter Eleven
Proxy
River’s vision tunneled. No. This isn’t supposed to happen. The son of Ephraim would never shoot a wolf. She swayed on her feet. If Jonathan’s arms hadn’t been wrapped around her, she would have collapsed.
“Gabriel, bring me that buffalo pelt. I think River’s going into shock.”
“What did the wolf look like?” Gabriel’s voice was strained, but he sounded much calmer than River felt.
Jonathan wrapped the buffalo robe around River then sat down and pulled her onto his lap. “We need to get River back to the hut.”
Gabriel leaned over and grabbed Jonathan’s shoulders. “What color was the wolf!”
“Take it easy, kid.”
Tremors shook River’s body, making it hard to talk. She locked her jaw and spoke through clenched teeth. “Answer him.”
Jonathan stroked the hair off her face and kissed her forehead. “I’m not even sure it was a pure bred wolf. It had black fur with a white stripe between its eyes.”
