by Trisha Telep
She levered up a bit, covering her naked parts with the blankets and wincing. “Like I fell through the ice.”
“I’ll have food for us soon.”
That was good since her stomach felt like it was going to gnaw through her spine.
“You didn’t get frostbite, no hypothermia. It was close though.”
“How do you know? You a doctor?”
“No.” He stirred the fire. “I just have a sense for stuff like that.”
She sneezed. “All I contracted is a cold, I guess. I can live with that. Thank you.”
He inclined his head. “I thought the ice could hold you if it could hold a one-hundred-and-eighty-pound wolf.”
She sniffled and raised a brow. “What exactly are you implying?” Well, at least her sense of humour wasn’t totally lost.
He only stared blankly at her.
“Never mind.” Apparently he didn’t spend much time around women ... or anyone, for that matter. “Please tell me you have a bathroom.”
He looked pointedly at the back of the cabin. “Just like any other house.”
Thank God. She went to flip the blankets back and was immediately hit in the face with a pair of grey sweats and a black sweater. “Hey, relax! I wasn’t going to gross you out with my body again, don’t worry about it.”
“Wear those.” He turned back to the fire. “Your clothes are still wet.”
Fuming, she pulled on the too-big clothes, followed by a pair of thick wool socks that were lying on the bedside table. “I thought shifters weren’t supposed to care about things like nudity.”
He didn’t answer her. Big surprise.
“Do you have running water?” she snapped, rising.
He was back to poking the stick into the fire. “Running water, heat, electricity. I equipped the place with solar collection panels.”
Of course he was off the grid more than halfway up Elgonquinn Mountain, far from the pack and even farther from human civilization. Just the way he liked it, undoubtedly. She sneezed again, glowered at his back, then headed in to drive the residual chill from her bones with what she hoped was steaming hot water.
She entered the small bathroom and started the water in the shower. The wind whistled past the small oval window above the toilet, snow swirling. The boy was still out there somewhere in this.
Catching her reflection in the mirror over the sink, she pushed a hand through her short hair, letting the thick ends trail through her fingers. There were no tell-tale signs of injury as a result of her fall through the ice. Mac had rescued her from the water and managed to get her warm quickly enough. OK, maybe he did have a “sense for stuff like that”.
She examined the skin around her eyes. Thirty-two years old and she was already getting wrinkles. Before this trek was over she’d probably end up with a few grey hairs to go with them.
Lily exited the bathroom rubbing a towel through her brown hair. Mac looked away from her, stirring the pot of stew on the stove.
It was strange to have a woman in his house, stranger that it was Lily. When he’d been paired with her to go after Casey, he’d been pleased. He was attracted to her, had been for a while.
Hell, it went past attraction.
But humans and shifters, it wasn’t done. It was against federal law, in fact, not to mention every human or shifter societal norm. Not that he cared about norms, or laws for that matter.
He wasn’t good at relating to people, but every time he was in her presence ... he wanted to try. Really, he just wanted her.
She sneezed again.
“Come sit down. I have stew and some bread and butter.” He glanced at her. “You need to eat something hot. The storm will have let up by tomorrow morning and we can hit the trail again.”
She had less than twenty-four hours to kick the sickness trying to take hold in her body. Mac could sense a person’s physical well-being and, while it was true she just had a cold, trudging through the snow could turn it into something much worse.
“Thanks.” She settled into one of the set places at the table. He served a bowl and she dug in with the kind of appetite that Mac liked to see.
“The scars.” He glanced at her. “On your thigh and stomach.” He’d seen them when he had taken off her wet clothes. Long, wide slashes.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She paused, softened. “If you don’t mind.”
He took a bite of bread.
“It’s, uh—” She swallowed hard.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s OK. I was married once and. . .he wasn’t very nice.”
“Oh.” It came out a low wolf’s growl. The bite of bread in his stomach turned to rock. Knowing someone had hurt her made his wolf hackles rise.
His father had been an abuser too. It was why, long ago, Mac had vowed he’d never hurt anyone else unless it was in self-defence or in defence of another. The Elgonquinn Mountain alpha had worried about Mac for a while, knowing he was strong enough to challenge his alpha position, but Mac didn’t want it and wouldn’t fight unless provoked first. Now the pack just left him alone.
“I was pregnant when he gave me the little love tokens you saw on my leg and stomach. I lost it.” She paused. “The baby, I mean. It was a long time ago.”
She couldn’t have children any more, either. Mac could feel it. The bastard had really messed her up inside.
Lily stared at her stew for a long moment, then got up and paced to the window, wrapping her arms across her chest. “Looks like it’s letting up a little.”
“We won’t lose the boy.”
Her shoulders grew a degree tighter. “I hope not.”
“He’s not your baby.”
She turned, dropping her hands to her sides and taking a step towards him. “How did you know to say that? How could you know that’s what I was thinking?” Swift intake of breath. “I thought your telepathy only worked among shifters.”
“It does, but that doesn’t mean I’m not observant. You’ve committed your entire life to helping people, wildlife, the world, but especially children - shifter and human alike. After what you just told me about your miscarriage, it wasn’t hard to make the jump.”
She turned her face away. “It’s dumb.”
“It’s human.”
Her whole countenance darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Damn it. He wasn’t good at this. “I mean it’s not dumb. It’s a reaction to a disturbing event in your life. It might be irrational, but it’s not dumb.”
Lily studied him, licking her lower lip and then pulling it from under her upper teeth. It was a habitual gesture she displayed when she was deep in thought.
Mac had to look away, otherwise he’d get up and kiss her.
“How did you end up so emotionally intelligent?” she asked.
“You think because I live away from the pack that I don’t have feelings?”
She regarded him for a long moment, eyes narrowed. “On the contrary. I’m starting to think that it’s because you have strong feelings that you live away from the pack.”
He turned away and spooned up more stew.
She sat back down. “Why do you live away from the pack anyway?”
“Most people irritate me.”
“Join the club. Not that you would join a club.” Pause. “So, do I irritate you?”
He set his spoon down and looked up at her. Mac made sure he had eye contact with her before he spoke. “You’re one of the few people whose company I enjoy.”
She blinked, then their gazes caught and held. “Really? I’m surprised you’d say that. After all, I’m a human and we really don’t know each other very well.”
“I’d like to fix that,” he answered.
“The part where I’m human or the other thing?”
His mouth twitched. “I can’t make you a shifter, you have to be born with the DNA, so I guess it’s the other thing.”
“Oh.”
“You sound sur
prised.”
“Well, I am.”
He blew out a frustrated breath. “I live away from the pack because I don’t want to be a part of the politics. I’d be expected to challenge Randall for position of alpha since I’m one of the stronger of the pack wolves, and I don’t want it. I prefer to live here, away from the entanglements of other people.”
“Away from responsibility.”
“Sure, you could say that. I don’t mind being alone. I’m not afraid of myself. Living this way suits me.”
She studied him. “It does suit you.” She took another bite. “So can I ask you a personal question? Since, you know, you’re linking sentences together at the moment.” She smiled a little.
He knew he wasn’t the most verbose man in the world. “Sure. Ask me anything.” He leaned back in his chair.
“Were you born as a human or a wolf?”
It was a common question. Some shifters were born wolf and then turned human when they reached maturity. Most shifters were born human though, and changed for the first time into wolf form when they hit adolescence.
Mac looked at her through half-lowered lashes, a secretive expression on his face. “I was born human. Would it make a difference if I’d been born a wolf?”
“No. I was only curious. I think shifters are fascinating. The ones born in wolf form especially fascinate me. They seem . . . wilder than the others. That’s why I thought, er . . .” Way to put her foot in her mouth.
“So you thought maybe I’d been born wolf?”
“Maybe.”
Mac leaned closer and Lily’s breath caught. “Because I seem wilder than the others?”
“Uhm.” A sneeze tickled her nose and she fought hard to suppress it. His eyes were like molten chocolate and his mouth was . . . lovely. Edible. She could probably sustain herself for days by nibbling on his full lower lip alone.
Was he going to kiss her? Her body tingled at the possibility of it, something in the centre of her warming in anticipation. Yes, she wanted him to kiss her. She’d fantasized about it more than once. She’d fantasized about more than just a kiss, too.
He stared at her for a moment, then eased back into his chair. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Disappointed, Lily let out the breath she’d been holding and sneezed.
Mac stood and took their bowls away. Outside the wind rushed around the cabin, whistling and rocking the shutters and doors. “I’ll make you some tea, a Native American remedy. Hopefully it will help you kick the cold by morning.”
She stared towards the window. “I just keep thinking of Casey. Not so much about the storm. I mean, if he’s in a cave, he’s sheltered enough. But to be out there, hunted . . .”
“If the storm has us holed up, you better believe the hunters aren’t going anywhere either. Casey is safe enough for now, in all ways.”
He made tea for her and they sat near the fire while she sipped, talking of their families until dark. Sue had a sister and her parents were still alive. He was an only child and his parents had passed away. Outside, the wind still blew furiously, dropping inches of snow on the cabin. Lily didn’t want to think about how many.
“You know, you prefer to spend your life away from the pack, but I’m not much different than you, really.”
Mac rolled his head towards her and asked lazily, “How’s that?”
“I’ll make a confession. I can’t stand most people. Some are all right, a small minority, but most of the time I feel like I don’t fit in.”
“But you help to heal them.”
She snorted. “Yes.”
“So why don’t you do what I do? How come you don’t live apart from everyone else?”
Lily shrugged, studying her cup. “Maybe I just can’t let go. Maybe I’m a little afraid too, afraid of being alone.”
When she finally got up to go to sleep, Mac stood with her. He took the empty cup from her fingers and set it on a nearby table. He pulled her close and lowered his mouth close to hers. His breath warmed her lips, but he didn’t touch her there, not yet.
Lily’s heart tripped over itself for a moment. “But shifters and humans aren’t supposed to—”
“Don’t like rules. Don’t like supposed to. How about you?”
“I, uh, don’t right now, that’s for sure.”
“Give in to what exists between us, Lily.” His gentle exhalation warmed her blood. “I know you can feel it, just like I can.”
The press of his lips on hers drove away the rest of the cold from her centre. His lips skated over hers, nipping here and there until she was only a boneless mess of want.
“Wow,” she whispered when the kiss finally broke.
Then he pulled her down to the bed and that was the very last thing she was able to articulate until morning.
Lily sneezed as she stared out the window at the winter wonderland before them. Mac handed her a tissue, then went back to securing his snowshoes.
He’d been correct about the storm ending by morning, but snow covered the ground in a good twelve inches that hadn’t been there the day before. The cabin sat nestled, warm and cosy, in the middle of all the new snow and ice, but Lily couldn’t wait to leave it. Casey needed them. It had taken a solid half an hour to even get the front door open, and snow had drifted clear over the roof on one side of the house.
Her body ached, not from her cold but from her night with Mac. She’d been right about his tender side. He’d shown it to her amply. It was hard to believe that such a muscular body could also hold so much tenderness, so much regard. He’d made her feel cherished, even loved — which was crazy. And yet . . .
Anyway, Mac was a multifaceted man. She wouldn’t mind exploring those facets, if he’d let her. Screw what anyone thought about it, too.
“You ready?”
She turned towards him. He’d told her he’d travel in human form today to keep pace with her, and also because, even as a wolf, the snow pack would be hard to navigate.
Nodding, she followed him out of the door, shuffling awkwardly in the snowshoes and fifty-five layers Mac had insisted on dressing her in. She felt like the Pillsbury Doughboy. When the outside cold hit her, it stole her breath for a moment. The memory of falling through the ice the day before rushed back at her.
No crossing any lakes for her today.
He pulled her against him, his breath showing white in the wintery air. “I was glad when you volunteered to help me look for the kid,” he murmured.
“I did it for Casey, but being with you is a definite perk.”
He grinned, a quick flash of teeth, and they headed out, their snowshoes leaving round, criss-cross footprints leading away from the cabin.
Now that Mac had a bead on Casey’s psychic signature, they went straight towards him. No more educated guesses. They went as fast as they could and Lily kept up well. Her cold remained mild. Perhaps the tea had helped, or maybe it had been Mac himself. She wouldn’t mind a second helping of each, especially of Mac.
In early afternoon, Lily noticed Mac moving faster, perhaps sensing not only Casey but the hunters. They were well on the other side of the mountain now, not far from the cave where the child had weathered the blizzard. Her legs were tired and her ankles ached from trudging through the snow, but she pushed herself harder.
A crack sounded in the distance. Gunshot. Mac began to run as though he weren’t wearing clunky snowshoes.
Lily tried to run too, but fell flat on her face. She pushed upwards. Someone grabbed her from behind before she could rise. She struggled hard and strong hands clamped down, hurting her even through the layers of winter clothing.
“Stop it, wolf lover,” a deep voice growled in her ear.
She stilled, recognizing the owner. “Derrick?” He was one of the wardens. A big burly guy who liked ... to hunt. Every fall he bragged to everyone about how many deer he’d bagged once the season opened.
“Damn it, I knew she’d recognize us,” said a man to her left.
“S
hut the fuck up, Steve.”
Derrick swung her up and around. He wore a blue ski mask. “You just had to get in the way, didn’t you? They were going to send the wolf alone for the boy, but you just had to fucking stick your nose in and volunteer to go too, didn’t you? Not that we don’t know why. You have a taste for fur, don’t you?”
Was this a trap for Mac? Had they planned this all along?
“What the hell are you doing, Derrick? Mac’s a werewolf. Do you really think you’re going to live through this?”
God, she hoped not.
The blood chilling sound of a shotgun being loaded made her look to Steve, also wearing a ski mask. “He may have teeth, but we got bullets. Guess which one wins?”
Derrick yanked her forwards. She tripped on her snowshoes, but he pulled her up again before she could face-plant. “You should have stayed home, Lily. Now we have to kill you before we can hunt.”
Oh, that was great news.
Mac leaped into the air and changed form. The extra clothing he wore, the snow shoes, everything down to the last fibre, was used up in the strange and mysterious magic that fuelled his transformation. It would make him appear heavier, give him more fur, longer, sharper teeth.
All the better to eat hunters with.
Paws made contact with the snow and he sank deep, struggling to jump through it, although he was still moving faster on four paws than he’d been doing on two feet. Muscles working, he made his way towards Casey’s psychic signature, the same direction the gunshot had come from.
Up ahead, Mac saw a flash of black fur between the trees. In his mind, he could feel Casey close by.
The young, medium-sized wolf caught sight of him and stilled near a clearing. Man, I’m so glad to see you.
Mac bounded up to him and sniffed. Are you all right?
I want to go home. They keep following me. They’ve had chances to kill me, but they’re just playing . . . chasing me around.
Bastards. They were hunting him for sport, just for kicks. We’ll get you back to Pack City and your parents as soon as we can.
They flushed me out a couple of days ago. I was taking a run in the forest and they started chasing me. I wanted to lead them away from the others.
