"You can, I promise it's okay. Nafarius wouldn't mind, none of the pack would." Like all werewolves, Maddie had grown up knowing it was okay to touch, to share.
"Nafarius would want to watch," Sam said, and smiled. "But it's not that, I'm barely holding on here. I don't want to lose control, accidentally hurt you."
"You could never hurt me," Maddie said with a confidence Sam didn't deserve.
"Yes, I can." Sam reached out, stroked the pad of her thumb across Maddie's lips, watched her eyes dilate with desire. "This isn't over," she promised.
Maddie nodded, willing to wait.
"I'm sorry," Sam said, having moved to brush at the bruise on Maddie's face. Maddie was probably the weakest member of the pack. She could still heal faster than a human, but it would take at least a day for the bruise to fade. Sam, with her strength, measured healing time in terms of hours, not days.
"It wasn't your fault." Maddie didn't want to think about Rose, not here in this place with Sam.
"We both know she went after you because of me." Most of the pack had come to accept Sam as Nafarius' mate, her own strength as alpha helping them to adjust. It was easier for them to accept her knowing that she was stronger, that she added considerable value to the pack. There had been one notable exception.
"I thought she had learned," Maddie sighed, recognizing that Sam wasn't going to let the matter drop.
"Oh, she learned. She learned not to attack me directly." Rose and her ever present entourage had been keeping their distance. "I suspect she saw an opportunity when she found you in here alone."
Maddie tentatively ran her fingers along her cheekbone. "It already feels better."
"Good," Sam smiled. "For now, you sleep in here."
"No!"
Sam raised a brow at the objection.
"I can't, these are your private quarters. Your's and Nafarius'. I can't stay here."
"I want you where I know you'll be safe, just until I'm sure Rose won't go after you again."
"I can sleep in the dorm with the other single women." Maddie usually slept out in the den, often mixed in with a number of single pack members - male and female. None of them were strong enough to stand up to Rose should she come for the young woman.
"No, you can't. None of them would be able to stop Rose, even if they were inclined to try."
"Sam." Maddie admonished lightly. "Not everyone is as strong as you."
"It's not about strength," she couldn't forget - at least not yet - the way the rest of the pack had stood watching while Rose bullied Maddie. "It's about doing what is right, taking care of people that matter."
Maddie smiled. "I'm glad I matter to you."
"Which is why you'll sleep in here until this thing passes."
"It won't just pass," Maddie warned. "Rose isn't one to give up."
"I know," Sam said and turned to greet her mate as he walked into the room. "We're gaining a houseguest."
Nafarius raised a brow but didn't object. "We need to talk."
"I won't apologize. She had no right..."
"I know. You made it clear that Maddie was under your protection. An attack on her was an attack on you. You acted appropriately."
Sam frowned. "Then what is there to talk about?"
"Maddie, give us a moment." Nafarius waited while the young woman slipped out of the room. "Rose said you stopped her from changing."
"I'm surprised she's talking at all." Sam grumbled. "I thought I'd done a better job eliminating her ability to speak - however temporary."
"Bloodthirsty wench."
Sam glared at him. "I won't stand by and let her beat my best friend. Have you noticed that Maddie is the only one Rose has ever gone after? She's stronger than most of the pack, certainly all of the females but she only targets the weakest."
"So?"
"It's not much of a fight when you're guaranteed the win."
Nafarius rubbed at his face. "Look, Rose is a problem, one we both know you need to deal with..."
"I plan to."
"...but right now we need to talk about what you did."
"What about it?"
"Sam," Nafarius said, the sudden seriousness of his voice catching her attention. "It's not something the rest of us can do."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I don't know what you did or how you did it. She said it felt like you used the pack bond to cut her off from her wolf, to keep her from changing."
Sam nodded. "Something like that."
"Can you be more specific?" Nafarius would admit to being curious. Curious, not worried, he assured himself.
"I could feel her starting to shift, knew that she would heal faster that why." She looked him in the eye. "I also knew that if she shifted, one of us would end up dead."
Nafarius nodded. Rose wouldn't have been able to let Sam's show of strength go unanswered.
"So I stopped her from shifting."
"How?"
Sam shrugged. "I don't know, it's hard to explain. It wasn't something I consciously thought about. It was more instinctual."
"I can tell you none of us have that particular instinct."
Sam nodded, looked away. "Once again I'm different, odd man out."
"Hey," Nafarius reached out, pulled her towards him. "This isn't something to be ashamed of. Whatever it is, it's a gift, you were able to use it to defend a pack member."
Sam buried her face in his chest, fisted his shirt in her hand. "God, I don't want to be different. Just once, I want to fit in."
"You belong here. Don't ever doubt it," he said fiercely.
They stood silently holding each other.
"Nafarius."
"Hmmm?"
"I didn't cut her off from her wolf, not permanently." She felt him nod.
"She thought she'd be able to change but for your order against it." Rose was smart enough not to disobey a direct order - not when she was too weak to live through the consequences of doing so.
"But I could have," Sam whispered. She had felt it, the power, the control over Rose's wolf. She'd held the link between wolf and woman in her hand and had known that she could sever the two.
Nafarius felt the cold clutch of fear in his gut. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Would it have killed her?"
"No," Sam shook her head. "I think she would have lived the rest of her life feeling her wolf inside but never able to shift."
"That wouldn't be living." To be able to feel one's wolf but never shift, never run again?
"I can feel your fear," Sam pulled away, stepped out of his arms.
"Not of you," he assured her but he didn't reach for her, didn't try to draw her back into his arms.
She didn't call him a liar, but the accusation was there in her eyes. "Then what?"
"To be able to do such a thing, to have that kind of power..." he trailed off.
"What?"
"It makes you a formidable weapon," Nafarius admitted. One others would kill to possess.
* * *
Roland smelled blood. Lifting his head, he scented the wind. Upwind, he thought, otherwise he might not have caught it. Sending out a warning - a short howl followed by a couple of quick barks - he went in search of the source.
Blood wasn't uncommon in the forest but this lay heavy and thick in the air, which meant there was a lot of it.
Slipping silently through the trees, he kept to the underbrush using the thick foliage to mask his light color. He hadn't gone far when he found her. Crumpled and broken, she lay in the center of a small glen, her red hair a beacon in the sun.
Natasha.
Recognition sent Roland shooting forward only to skid to a stop before breaking cover of the trees. A trap? Maybe. How did she get here? Why was she here? And who had left her there? More questions than answers, he thought.
He could see her chest move, hear her heartbeat and knew that she lived. That knowledge gave him the patience he needed to proceed with caution. To make sure this wasn't a trap cooked up by her f
ather.
Keeping her in sight, Roland circled the small clearing checking for tracks and other evidence. That done, he settled in to wait. Time passed slowly, his eyes traveling over the surrounding trees before coming back to rest on the reassuring rise and fall of her chest. Twenty minutes later and nothing else had moved. No one was waiting for him and as far as he could tell, no one was coming for her.
Trotting forward, Roland got his first good look at her. A low growl of rage started in the center of his chest at the bruises on her battered face. An image of her at Nafarius' last meeting with Craig flashed before his eyes. Alabaster skin, smooth and perfect had accented green eyes alight with invitation and ripe red lips. Currently, those eyes were swollen shut, her lips split and trickling blood.
Nosing her head, Roland tried to wake her. He needed to get her back to the den. There was still the chance this was a trap, that whoever had left her there would be coming back. Roland didn't want to get caught out in the open. He also couldn't help her in his current form.
He had a choice, go back for help or risk shifting here in the open.
Beside him Natasha stirred, one eye opening a crack to stare up at him. "Roland," Natasha whispered before slipping back into unconsciousness.
Realizing he couldn't leave her out there alone, Roland started the shift.
It took longer, his attention split between the change and watching for dangers. Finally, he was able to lift her up into his arms, carefully cradling her head on his shoulder as he turned towards home.
Natasha felt light in his arms, her body impossibly fragile and small. Glancing down at her face, Roland revised his own thoughts. She wasn't fragile. Only someone with immense strength could have survived such a brutal attack.
Not watching where he was going, Roland slipped, the sudden movement jarring the woman in his arms and eliciting a low moan of pain. After that, he was careful to watch his footing while tucking her in tight against his body.
An hour later, Roland stepped out of the forest and into the clearing to find Sam and Nafarius waiting for him. The two stood side by side, an impenetrable wall of strength guarding the entrance to the den.
"Keep calling me stubborn and pig-headed, and see where you end up sleeping," Sam said, not looking at her mate.
"I didn't call you stubborn," Nafarius ground out.
"It doesn't take the mating bond for me to know you're thinking it."
"There's an unknown danger, yet you refuse to stay inside with the others. What would you call it?"
Nafarius spotted Roland. "Shit."
"My duty," Sam said, as she moved to meet the beta. "Who is it?" Sam could account for everyone of her pack, knew that they were all safe inside.
"He left her," Roland growled, his eyes locked on Nafarius' face. "He beat her and left her."
"Who?" Sam stepped up, brushed the woman's hair back from her face, "Natasha," she whispered. "Bring her inside."
"Where did you find her?" Nafarius asked.
"In the northern glen. I smelled blood, followed the scent." Roland slipped inside the den, not surprised to find the common area deserted. Nafarius would have ordered the pack to the back of the dwelling, leaving Marcus and Jeff guarding the entrance.
"Put her down here," Sam indicated the area where they took their meals. "Jeff, go get Maddie."
Jeff nodded and hurried back into the private quarters.
Roland knelt down, carefully laying the young woman out.
Sam was surprised when Roland took a moment, tenderly brushing a lock of hair back from Natasha's face. "Let me see," she ordered, nudging Roland aside.
Reluctantly, Roland stepped back, let Sam perform a quick inspection.
"Did you see anyone else?" Nafarius demanded. "Smell anyone?"
"I smelled blood," Roland paused, his eyes fixated on the woman. "He walked her in and dumped her."
"He?" Nafarius asked.
"Dimitri," Roland spat out the name. "I circled the area and found one set of footprints and one, distinct scent."
Maddie hurried into the room. "What do you..." she saw the body on the floor, felt her heart pound painfully. Taking a quick look around, she assured herself that Sam, Nafarius and Roland were all safe. "Who is it?" she asked, kneeling across from Sam.
"Natasha," Sam answered. "Help me get this off." Sam was struggling to get Natasha's dress off.
"Here," Maddie reached over, tore the dress down the front.
Sam blinked. "Right, much easier." She was still adjusting to the extra strength, often forgetting about it.
"I smell blood," Maddie said. "Lots of it."
Sam nodded, carefully pulling the ruined pieces of the dress apart. Together they stripped the young woman, exposing an endless expanse of skin, every inch of it marred by violence.
"Are those...?" Maddie slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide.
"Bite marks," Sam said. "Human and wolf." Behind her Roland swore with a low vicious snarl.
"Grab one of the blankets," Sam told Maddie. Sitting back on her heels, she looked up at her mate. "Most of the cuts are superficial and the bruises will heal with time. I'm concerned that the blood we're smelling is internal bleeding. How much of that can werewolves heal?" She was still learning about their abilities, their strengths and limitations.
"It would be better if she shifted," Roland volunteered.
"Sam, take a look at this."
Sam bent over to where Maddie held Natasha's head in her hand.
"I think she hit her head or..." Maddie trailed off, looked up at Roland.
"Or someone hit her," he finished.
Maddie nodded. "I think this may be why she's not waking up - she can't."
Nafarius swore. "If she doesn't shift, she could die."
That answered one of Sam's questions. "Who would do this to her? And why leave her here?"
"Dimitri," Roland growled, a low angry sound that raised the hair on the back of Sam's neck.
"Her father did this?" Maddie asked, horrified.
"His is the only other scent on her." Roland walked angrily away before turning and pacing back. "To beat someone like that, you have to get up close, personal. You leave your scent all over them."
"But, why?" Sam was surprised. Werewolves could be violent. Trespassers were often hunted down and killed - without question. And internal power struggles for dominance could leave a wolf seriously injured. But the pack was family, and you didn't hurt family.
"To strike at me," Nafarius said and saw a hint of something in his beta's eyes.
"She's his daughter!" Maddie exclaimed.
"She was to be my mate," Nafarius said softly, watching Sam's face. "There is no greater insult than to attack a wolf's mate."
"Then why not attack me?" Sam looked down at the young woman. She was built more like Maddie, small boned and beautiful. But that was where the similarities ended. Maddie was soft, gentle while Natasha had a rod of steel running beneath the surface of seemingly delicate features. Sam remembered her first glimpse of the young woman, the set of her chin, the rigid tightening in her shoulders. She was strong and beautiful, and someone had purposefully set out to break her.
"Sam." Nafarius could feel his mate's guilt morphing into anguish, threatening to become rage. "You are not responsible."
"This is because you took me as your mate."
"Dimitri and I have been at odds for years. He's old, his pack small and getting smaller. He was hoping for an alliance."
"But all of that would have been settled, peacefully, if it weren't for me." Sam refused to let him absolve her of her guilt.
"Maybe," he hedged. "The deal wasn't exactly official, there are no guarantees we would have reached a final agreement."
Sam shook her head. First Marcus, now this.
"I wouldn't have let you go," Nafarius insisted, sensing Sam's despair through their bond. "And even if you had refused me, I would have spent the rest of my life alone rather than live a lie with another woman."<
br />
Sam looked up at Nafarius, felt the truth of his words. "So we're both responsible," she said.
"That still doesn't explain why," Maddie said, smoothing a hand over the blanket covering Natasha.
"He intends for her to die on our territory, use it to issue a challenge." Roland said.
Nafarius nodded. Staring down, watching as his mate tried to help a complete stranger, he knew he would never regret his decision. "We'll need to prepare..."
"We can't just let her die!" Sam said. "We have to do something. And not just to avoid war with Dimitri. This is our fault, our responsibility."
"I don't disagree with you," Nafarius said. "But short of getting her to shift, there isn't much we can do. We don't have the kind of medical supplies she needs or the know-how and it's a three day hike out of here. The trip alone would probably kill her."
"How do we get her to shift?" Sam asked.
"We don't, she has to do it. You can't force someone to..." Nafarius crossed his arms over his chest and shot his mate a stern look. "No."
"I have to try," she insisted.
"The hell you do. She's not pack, not yours to protect. Besides, you have no idea what kind of condition she might come to in. An injured wolf is not something to mess with. She'll be hurt, confused and likely attack whoever is closest. No. I won't risk it."
"I will," Sam said stubbornly. "She may not be mine but what if she was? What if it was one of ours that was hurt, dying and someone could have helped but didn't even bother to try?"
"What are - " Roland started to ask.
"That's the way things are!" Nafarius growled, fear making him short.
"Well that's not the way I am!" Sam shot back.
"Excuse me..." Roland interrupted.
"I will not let you put yourself in danger, Sam." Nafarius stood, his fists clenched at his sides, ignoring his beta.
"It's my choice!" Sam stood and shoved her face at her mate.
"Like hell! You're my mate and you'll do as I say!"
"Since when?" They were yelling, their voices echoing off the walls.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO TALKING ABOUT?" Roland's voice exploded in the small space, effectively ending the argument.
"Sam..." Nafarius growled in warning.
"I might be able to help her shift," she admitted.
Legend (A Wolf Lake Novella) Page 13
