Dire Wolves Whiteout

by Shelby Morgen

  Oh. Good. Lord. Was that him?

  Wolf stared at his watery reflection, trying to find something he recognized. The matted hair hanging down from his head and face nearly to his waist was streaked with silver, much the color of his wolf’s pelt. The scar shone like an angry slash across his face, which would never have won any awards to begin with.

  If the woman saw him now, she’d run, screaming. That bothered him.

  Damn it, the last thing he needed to be concentrating on was some human woman, no matter how she’d touched him. The sooner he shifted back to wolf form, the better.

  His wolf laughed at him. Wolf was the one who’d identified her scent.

  As if on cue, the top half of the door opened. Lips curled back in a feral snarl, he leaped to his feet, clutching the blanket around him.

  “I brought you… Oh,” she stammered, staring, blinking several times as if to clear her vision. Shaking her head, she looked down at the small pail she carried. “This looked a lot better when I thought I was feeding the wolf.”

  Chapter Two

  The woman looked thoroughly perplexed, almost embarrassed. Of all the reactions he might have expected from a woman finding a near-naked man in her barn, concern over her cooking was nowhere on the list. His laughter sounded hoarse, his voice rusty with disuse, and his ribs hurt with each gasping breath, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Hey, wait till you taste it to laugh,” she admonished.

  “Wha --” he gasped, pressing a hand over his ribs, trying to silence the laughter, and made another attempt, searching for human words. “What you cook Wolf?”

  “Hamburger and rice. Well, caribou burger, really. Ground caribou.”

  “Smells good.” He was suddenly starving.

  “Steady diet for all the sanctuary inhabitants in recovery. Donated from the Alaska Department of Fish & Game.” She unlatched the bottom half of the door, letting it swing open, but didn’t move any closer to him.

  On the other hand, she didn’t move farther away either.

  “Sanctuary?”

  “This is the Nome Animal Hospital and Wildlife Sanctuary. That’s why Lt. Parker brought you here. We run a wolf rescue operation.”

  So. She knew who he was, what he was -- knew he and Wolf were one and the same -- and she hadn’t run screaming. Or turned him over to the authorities. You, little lady, are the one in need of rescue. He didn’t say that out loud. Instead he searched for the words. Her words. The ones that would urge her to pass him her pail. The ones that would tell her he owed her more than his life. That her kindness had touched him in a way he could only barely fathom.

  The words he remembered were wholly inadequate. “Hungry.”

  “And cold, I imagine. I’ll have to find you something to put on. I need to check your wound, though. Make sure it’s not infected.”

  The wound she’d sewed shut. The one on his ribs, just above his… waist. Under the blanket.

  “Please, let me look. If it’s infected, I’ll need to… Oh…” He clutched the blanket by its corner, letting it drop, so the bulk of it covered his private parts. He tried not to shrink away as the woman dropped to one knee next to him, lightly skimming her fingertips over the place where the wound had been. “Does it hurt?”

  Wolf closed his eyes, drinking in the feel of her touch. “Some. Inside. Not bad. Not like before.” Her hand stilled, fingertips spread lightly across his ribs, as if she were reluctant to step away.

  Crazy notion. She was a doctor. And human or not, he was her patient. Nothing more. So why didn’t her hand move?

  “I’m sorry. My fault. I had to spread your ribs, to clean up where the bullet had poisoned you. Your ribs are going to hurt for a while. But the wound, it’s almost healed. Remarkable. I grew up listening to the legends, but I never really…” Her voice trailed off again, her fingertips brushing repeatedly over the small scar on his side.

  Fortunately she didn’t seem to notice what her touch was doing to the blanket.

  As if she’d made some sort of decision, she scrambled back to her feet, hesitating for less than a heartbeat when he reached down with his free hand -- the one not holding the blanket over what was left of his modesty -- to help her up. “Come to the house with me, and I’ll find you something warm to put on. And breakfast. Maybe -- do you drink coffee?”

  Her hand stayed clasped in his a moment longer than it needed to. He felt another smile pull at his lips. “Coffee… I remember coffee.”

  She turned and walked back through the barn, as if expecting him to follow. He could as easily have shifted and run. But run where? There was nowhere he’d rather be than wherever she was.

  The woman paused near the doorway. “I need to find something here for you to wear. It’s cold enough in here -- we keep the heat set at about forty. Just enough to protect the plumbing. The critters don’t usually mind. Some days, that’s nearly eighty degrees warmer than it is outside. It’s not far to the house, but you can’t go out there in nothing but a blanket. You’ll freeze. You need warm clothes. Boots.”

  He looked out across the expanse of frozen ground, and his man-toes curled in protest. A deep-seated shiver ripped through him. “Wolf is better,” he tried to explain. Not that words would do any good. Any moment now he’d smell her fear.

  He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. He wanted… he wanted things he could never have again. With a howl of regret he shifted.

  “Wow.” The woman stared at him, then seemed to realize what she was doing and quickly averted her eyes. But she was grinning. Grinning! Wolf’s heart did a somersault behind his sore ribs. She dropped to a crouch, tucking her head down, as if trying to look submissive. Since she wasn’t a wolf, it didn’t work very well, but his wolf didn’t care. The wolf just wanted to fuck her.

  He shook himself, trying to toss away the inappropriate thought. What the hell would he do with a human woman? Any human, for that matter? He didn’t even own any clothes. Not anymore. His man-brain barely remembered her language. She just smelled so damn good… his cock swelled hard, aching for release. She was smaller than he was, human, and fragile. But a man only took what was freely offered. He swallowed the quick surge of desire, glad for the triple coat that protected his uncooperative cock from her view.

  “Coming with me?” she asked, as if she expected him to answer.

  Not that he’d known what to say to her anyway. He slunk closer, pressing his nose into her free hand, then sniffing at the pail she still clutched in the other. Lord he was hungry. It’d been days since he’d eaten.

  Laughing in obvious delight, the woman lifted the hand he’d nuzzled and ran her fingers through his fur, scratching his ears. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s go get you some people food. And some coffee.”

  * * *

  Wolf wasn’t going to ask why the woman had clothes to give him, or who’d worn them before, not yet, though it was all he could do to keep from marking the worn gray pants and sweater she laid on the bed as his own. But he was sure the woman wouldn’t take kindly to Wolf peeing on anything.

  “Bathroom’s through the door,” she offered. “Towels are in the cabinet. I’d tell you to keep my bandages dry, but since they’re gone… That’s something you can explain to me sometime.” She pulled the door shut behind her. He could hear her footsteps retreating back toward the kitchen.

  Trusting soul, the good doctor was, leaving a great beast like him alone in her private space. Crafty, though, tempting the man with luxuries his wolf had had no use for. He shifted and quickly scrambled for the offered shower. His human sense of smell was sharp enough to tell him he’d been too long in the wild.

  Wolf took his time, enjoying the heat, the smells of soap and shampoo, remembering the man. He was almost disappointed to find her bedroom empty when he emerged. Not that he’d really expected her to be there. She was either in the kitchen, cooking, or calling the police. One way or the other, humans didn’t find nakedness all that socially acceptable. He needed to get dre
ssed.

  Socks -- socks were surely a gift of the gods. The ones she’d left on the bed for him were thick, and warm, and soft, so soft they cushioned his footfalls so he could walk almost as quietly as Wolf stalking his prey. And stalk her he did, following his nose.

  Wonderful scents assailed him from every direction. He found her in the kitchen, frying something in a big skillet. Smelled like… the name had been on the tip of his tongue.

  “Coffee’s on the counter over there. Hope you like bacon.”

  Bacon! Wolf wanted to do a back flip, though his ribs clearly weren’t up to that yet, and Man just wanted… well, his needs were pretty basic. Bacon. Coffee. Woman. In pretty much that order.

  Woman. Again, the traitorous thought. She was a woman, granted. And she had touched him -- something no female had done in years. But she was not his woman, no matter what his nose told him. His woman was gone. Dead. Her life taken by the same bigoted fools who’d nearly ended his own. And he’d done nothing. Just as he’d done nothing last time. Another debt owed.

  The woman turned to him, lips parted, an eyebrow raised in a slight question. The question died on her lips, the wooden tool in her hand frozen in space. “Wow,” she finally managed.

  He ran a hand over his face, and felt himself blush like a fool. He’d never been good around women. “Borrowed… tools.” Spirit take him, he sounded like an uneducated barbarian. He searched his mind for the words. “Scissors. I borrowed your scissors. And a razor.”

  “So I see.” Her eyes never left his face, but her lips pulled up in a smile, so he guessed that was a good sign.

  “I…” He gestured at his hair. “I can’t fix this. I thought about shaving my head, but the beard was hard enough. It had to go. I couldn’t remember what my face looked like.”

  “It’s a rather handsome face,” she decided. “Definitely bears uncovering, though the beard was amazing. As for the hair, maybe I can help with that.”

  Again she made that look with her face, the one that was more than a smile, almost like laughter reaching all the way to the corners of her eyes, all without a sound. That look did things to his insides -- stole his breath and made his balls tight with need.

  “Grab some coffee and sit down.”

  Sit? What did she think he was, a house pet?

  The chair, you idiot. She means sit in the chair at the table.

  The coffee was hot and strong, nearly burning his tongue. The taste brought back memories, of another house, another kitchen, another woman. He pushed the thoughts back to a corner of his mind, where he’d held them at bay for so many years.

  The woman turned the burner down and crossed the room, moving out of his line of sight. It was all he could do to resist the urge to turn in the chair, follow her every movement. She stepped up behind him, and every muscle in his body tensed.

  “Relax,” she ordered, pushing playfully at his shoulder.

  Again, her touch lingered just a moment too long. Was he reading more into her touch than he should?

  “Lean forward a little for me. This is going to take some work.” She worked with her fingers at first, untangling the worst of the mess, then started at the tips of each section and worked her way up with the comb. She worked carefully, patiently, untangling knot after knot, until a long, slightly curling mane spread across his shoulders.

  There was more silver than he remembered.

  Her fingers against his skin, running through his hair with every stroke of the comb, made him want to arch his neck into her touch, or purr like a cat. It had been so long. Too long. He’d forgotten the pleasure of a woman’s touch. Or not allowed himself to remember. When the smooth, blunt teeth of the comb scraped against his scalp, he shivered, this time with need.

  Now was not the time. He was here, in this kitchen, with this woman. And he owed her a debt. “You saved my life,” he said out loud, putting the words together carefully, in the order he remembered. “Why?”

  “Why? What kind of question is that? I’m a doctor. It’s what I do.”

  “You save wolves. You and your game warden friend. He brings you the wounded wolves, and you offer them sanctuary. You know wolves. Which means you knew I was no wolf, soon as you saw me. The game warden, he knew too. Knew I was too big. Heard him tell you.”

  “So you understand language, even in wolf form. Fascinating. You keep your human brain?”

  “Human brain, wolf brain. Pretty much the same.” That wasn’t strictly the truth, but it would do for now. Best to end this, before it went any further. He sniffed. “Bacon’s about to burn.”

  “Shit!” She spun back and whisked the skillet off the burner, scooping the crispy strips out of the skillet all in one move. “Good nose.”

  He laughed at that, the sound coming easier this time. “Wolf nose.”

  “So we weren’t wrong. You are a wolf.”

  “Yes. Wolf, but not. Not like the wolves in your sanctuary. We’re something older. We were here before. Once we roamed all the cold places of the world. Now there are so few left.”

  “And there’s the answer to your question. Lt. Parker and I are part of an organization that wants to save the wolves. All of the wolves. We do what we can to help.”

  Her blanket acceptance of who and what he was nearly unmanned him. He swallowed, hard, trying to force the lump from his throat. “Thank you.” It was so little to say. Not near enough to cover the surge of hunger that wrapped around him. “I want you…” Damn, where had that come from? He cleared his throat and tried again, as if he’d meant to say more. “I want you to know… how much…” how much I want to fuck you…

  She turned back to the table and set a plate in front of him, an overly bright smile on her face. “I’m a doctor. Saving lives -- it’s what we do.”

  Her breasts spilled forward as she leaned across the table, straining against the outline of her bra. He had to force Wolf back to his cage, clamping down hard on the raw need that washed over him. He shifted in the chair to relieve the pressure on his aching balls. This woman was going to be the death of him.

  The breakfast was good, bacon and eggs and fresh hot biscuits with butter and jam. He worried his stomach would rebel at the idea of cooked Man-food, but it seemed both Man and Wolf heartily approved. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m Suzanne Grier, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. I usually answer to Doc, or Zan.”

  “Zan. Suits you.”

  “You have a name? What should I call you?”

  He grinned at her, the feeling foreign on this long unused human face. “Bacon.”

  Zan laughed. “Your name’s Bacon?”

  “No, but if you holler Bacon, you can bet I’ll show up.” The bacon was, indeed, just as good as it smelled. He munched down another piece just to test his theory. “Wolf. Call me Wolf.” Long ago he’d had another name… a human name. “Been just Wolf for a long time.”

  “Wolf it is, then. You have a home, Wolf? Anyone who needs to know you’re all right?”

  Biscuits were proof the Spirits were all knowing. And strawberry jam… he breathed out a contented sigh. “Nope. Lone wolf. No pack. Not anymore.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He cocked his head, listening with his heart. “You lost your pack, too, I think. The scents here are old.”

  “I -- I don’t have a pack, you’re right. There was someone, a long time ago. We came here together to start the sanctuary. But he’s gone, and I’m still here. Now it’s just me and Jake Parker and the rest of the shelter volunteers. I guess we’re kind of a pack.”

  “Do you have an Alpha? A leader?”

  “We have -- yes, I guess so. We have a council, in Fairbanks. Long way from here, though.”

  “Jake Parker, he does not live here. I don’t smell him in the house. He’s not your mate.” He looked down at the gray pants and shirt. “These are not his clothes.”

  “No,” she agreed, though her voice sounded hesitant. “Jake has his own home,
and a wife. He’s not my mate. My mate is gone.”

  “Dead?”

  “No, he’s not dead. Not that I know of. He left. The winters here got to him. Said Alaska was too dreary.”

  Wolf carefully laid the last piece of bacon back on his empty plate. He stared into Zan’s eyes. They’d been blue before. Now they were green. “A man protects what is his. A man does not leave his mate. No matter what. My father taught me this before I was old enough to hunt. Any man who abandons his mate is lower than the pack followers who survive off the remains of others’ kills. No true wolf would ever abandon his mate.”

  She swallowed hard, blinking her eyes, and looked away. “Men are… men are different. Wolves mate for life. Men mate for pleasure. Often humans tire of one another’s companionship too quickly.” She rose and turned to the sink, clearing the dishes with quick, practiced moves.

  “Men are fools.” He rounded the table in one easy stride, gathering her into his arms as the tears escaped her eyes. “No wolf would have ever let you go.” His wolf surely didn’t intend to.

  Chapter Three

  Zan let the plate slide from her nerveless fingers into the water. She knew she should protest, should not let this man she barely knew hold her, but another voice told her he wasn’t a stranger, any more than he was a man. She’d taken her blade to him last night, spread his ribs apart, and scraped the flesh from his bones. What could be more intimate than holding a man’s living, beating heart in her hands?

  Wolf simply held her, one arm across her back, the other hand cupping her head, and let her cry. She buried her face in the soft comfort of Steve’s old sweatshirt and cried even harder. “I’m sorry,” she sniffled when the tears finally faded. “I didn’t mean to…”

  “Shh. I am honored you choose to share your grief with me. If you could shift, I would take you to the mountains and we would sing together, tell all the packs of your sorrow.”

  “Is that -- is that what you did when you lost your mate?”

  His fingers stilled in her hair. “No. I got in my truck and I drove. I drove until I ran out of road. And then I shifted, and I ran till I ran out of space to run. When I reached the mountains, I found a den, and I made it mine. And I never went back.”