Just as Thorne began to open his mouth a piercing howl cut through the night air. I jumped, glancing around in a panic, expecting to see glowing eyes and sharp teeth springing out from the trees at any moment. But the howl had been distant. A moment later a series of sharp barks and yaps answered from the place we'd last seen the Mine Pack waiting.
Clutching my hand, Thorne led us to the edge of the copse, and we watched in silence as the dark shapes in the distance began milling about, agitated and disorganised. A second howl sounded in the distance, and after another round of indecisive growling and scuffling the wolves began to disappear back into the forest one by one, until at last the final shadow had vanished and the meadow was quiet. I breathed a sigh of relief, squeezing Thorne's hand softly as I turned around, and froze.
Half a dozen fresh sets of eyes watched us from amongst the foliage, silent and menacing. They'd approached so quietly we hadn't heard them at all. Thorne tensed, edging in front of me ever so slightly as the wolves slunk forwards, surrounding us. They didn't have the shaggy black coats typical to the Mine Pack. These creatures were lean and graceful, their fur a mixture of browns and light woodland colours. A large male stepped out of the bushes and approached us, flanked on either side by two wolves whose fur was so light it was practically blonde. The male shifted into his human form; a well-built man in his late twenties wearing a sleeveless leather vest. He had the rugged look of a forest werewolf about him, but something about the elegantly crafted belt he wore and the neat trim of his beard set him apart from most of the males I'd seen before. He looked almost civilised.
"Thorne," he said, eyeing the pair of us coldly. "We told you never to come back here. I suppose you're the reason we've got the Mine Pack sitting on our doorstep. Did they drive you out too?"
"I had to bring my friend Lyssa here. I told her she'd be safe with you," Thorne replied, meeting the man's glare.
"Lyssa, huh?" He shot a cursory glance in my direction. "Your latest victim, is she?"
Thorne narrowed his eyes at the quip, his mouth twitching into a snarl.
"We should throw the pair of you right back out there," the Wood Pack leader continued. "We don't need this kind of trouble in our territory, and you gave up your right to ask any favours of us a long time ago. Don't think anyone's forgotten what you did to poor Niya." His expression was drawn with anger, but the light-furred wolves either side of him seemed more reserved. The one on the right shifted into his human form, a lithe blonde who looked several years younger than his alpha.
"Agatha wouldn't like that," he murmured into the leader's ear. "We should at least listen to the girl."
The burly man grimaced and shook his head. "Her, maybe. Not Thorne. I don't want him anywhere near the rest of the pack. Take him down to the orchard, and make sure he stays there till I decide what to do with him."
The blonde nodded and stepped forward, taking Thorne by the arm and tugging him away from me. He resisted for a moment, holding his ground, but the other wolves moved closer, growling threateningly. We shared one last desperate glance before the leader moved between us, tugging Thorne's hand away from mine.
"Thorne!" I cried out, but the leader stopped me with a hand on my shoulder, his eyes lingering on the scratch and the broken strap.
"You don't know how dangerous that wolf can be," he said, his voice low. "Come with us, unless you'd rather take your chances out there with the Mine Pack."
"What are you going to do with him?" I said, trying to keep my eyes on Thorne as the others marched him out of sight between the trees.
The leader looked at me, his eyes hard. "No less than he deserves."
—6—
Trials
I didn't know whether to feel relieved or terrified. The exhausting pace of everything that had happened over the past few days, not to mention the intensely passionate moment I'd shared with Thorne at the climax of it all, had left me drained and confused. Now that I was safe amongst the Wood Pack I should have been eager to settle down for a long, well-earned night's sleep, but as I lay there in the darkness all I could think about was Thorne. Where had they taken him? What were they going to do with him? Was I ever going to see him again?
I tried to tell myself that the Wood Pack were reasonable. They'd welcomed me with open arms, after all, given me food, a bed, and the promise of letting me explain everything to them tomorrow. But the way their alpha, Rowan, had looked at Thorne filled me with apprehension. He clearly hadn't forgotten Thorne's past, nor had he forgiven him for it. There was a dark glower in his eyes every time I pressed the matter, a kind of simmering indignation that frightened me. He seemed like the kind of werewolf who was capable of great and terrible things when pushed.
The Wood Pack wolves had taken me back to their camp as the moon came up, leading the way through the open meadow of tree stumps until we entered the forest again and moved deeper into their territory. The trees had been thinner there, interspersed with clearings and rocky hills and gushing rivers. It was ripe and pleasant land, and it made sense that one of the oldest and strongest werewolf packs would have claimed this territory as their own.
The camp itself was situated in the middle of an old logging area, scattered with shacks and cabins, and even the ruins of an old sawmill that looked as though it had been sitting abandoned for decades. The Wood Pack kept the buildings looking innocuous but serviceable, Rowan told me as we walked, making sure that nobody from the civilised world ever thought it worthwhile to come out here and investigate the site of the old logging operation. It was little more than an earthy shanty town, like some kind of new-age commune, but for a pack of werewolves living out in the wilderness it was practically paradise. The small lodge they led me to—a single-room den lined with boards in the side of a hill—was a hundred times more comfortable and welcoming than the ragged tent I'd lived in back at Cyan's camp.
They left me there with a basket of fresh bread and fruit, telling me to get some sleep, and that I'd talk to their elder in the morning. It surprised me that Rowan wasn't willing to listen to my story himself. I'd never heard of an alpha who deferred to anyone else in his pack before, but I was too preoccupied with thoughts of Thorne to question it. Whenever I asked after him I was met with stony silence, or a few muttered comments about dealing with him in due course.
I was given the lodge to myself, but whenever I peered out through the cracks in the wooden door I could see the shape of a wolf watching me a few yards away, curled up on a broad tree stump as his glowing eyes shone in the darkness. I didn't expect I'd be allowed to go looking for where they'd taken Thorne, even if I'd had the first clue about where to begin.
After an hour of restless pacing I finally made myself eat something and lie down on the bed, replaying the events of the evening over and over in my mind as the comfortable grass mattress slowly coaxed me towards sleep. For the briefest moment Thorne and I had reached a new understanding of one another. We'd realised that we could be together, overcome our instincts and let our feelings finally blossom. But it had been snatched away, and now I was alone amongst these strange new wolves, and Thorne was...
I tried to imagine him lying on an equally comfy mattress somewhere in the Wood Pack camp, thinking of me as he slowly gave in to sleep. But the look on Rowan's face when he'd ordered the others to take him away didn't bring to mind images of comfort and warmth. Gentle tears ran down my cheeks as I nuzzled into the crook of my arm as a pillow. I was too exhausted to think about sneaking out and making a run for it, or tacking down Rowan and pleading with him to let Thorne go, and I felt terrible for it. It was as though I was giving up, resigning myself to the way things were, letting go of that brief moment of happiness we'd shared.
At the very least, I told myself before sleep finally claimed me, I would know what to do tomorrow. I wasn't going to stay with the Wood Pack if Thorne couldn't be here with me.
I dreamt of him again while I slept, and for the first time my fantasy dragged on for what seemed like blissfu
l hours without interruption. There was no sudden awakening as Thorne transformed into his wolf and attacked me. The sharpness of his teeth and claws sinking into my flesh was replaced with wonderful moments of glowing pleasure as he held me in his arms, the silky sheets of a real bed wrapping our bodies as he made love to me, the taste of his skin and the warmth of his breath so vivid I never wanted to wake up from it. I dared to believe, for a few short hours, that we were living normal lives in the real world, just like any other couple.
I woke up with the sun in my eyes, squinting out through a gap in the door as it hung ajar, swinging gently in the breeze. Someone had unlatched it to check in on me while I slept. The realisation unnerved me a little. Nevertheless, it was much harder to feel like a prisoner with the noon sun streaming in and the scent of the fresh forest on the breeze. It was midday already.
With a groan I swung my legs off the rickety bed and stretched, grabbing my jacket from the chair I'd left it on the night before. I couldn't afford to spend half the day sleeping. I had to find out what was happening with Thorne.
When I pushed the door open cautiously I was greeted with another guard waiting on the tree stump outside. This time it wasn't an animal, but a human; the same handsome blonde wolf who'd spoken up for me the night before in front of his alpha. He smiled at me as he plucked at a vine of grapes, popping the succulent fruit into his mouth one by one as his feathery hair stirred in the breeze.
"I was starting to think you'd never wake up," he said. "You missed breakfast."
His conversational tone caught me off guard. I frowned, shielding my eyes from the sun as I studied his face, trying to decide whether I should feel reassured or suspicious.
"Do you like grapes?" He waggled the vine in my direction.
"Sure." I stepped forward and accepted the fruit, plucking off a juicy grape and letting it slide between my lips. As my teeth broke the skin and sweet juice flooded my mouth I realised how desperately hungry I was. I hadn't eaten much before going to bed, and my stomach was growling. It was impossible to keep the look of satisfaction off my face as the young man grinned and rose to his feet, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder.
"We'll get you a proper meal after you've spoken to Agatha. She'll be waiting for you."
"Where's Thorne?" I said after swallowing another mouthful.
"He's at the orchard, it's the only place that has a building with a lock on the door. Don't worry, Rowan won't do anything with him until he's talked it over with the rest of us, especially Agatha."
"But he's still going to do something?"
The blonde sighed, lowering his eyes, and nodded. "We have our rules, just like everybody else. I've never heard of anyone coming back to our pack after being exiled before."
I swallowed hard, pulling my jacket tighter around me. "I want to see him."
"Not until you've spoken to Agatha, I'm afraid. Come on, the sooner you see her the sooner you can decide what you want to do next." He turned away and gestured for me to follow. I fell in beside him as we walked down the rough path leading deeper into the camp.
"So I'm not a prisoner, then?" I asked.
"Oh no, we don't make a habit of locking people up. But like I said, our pack has rules."
My tension eased just a little, but I was still nervous. Cyan had his own set of rules too, and so did the Mine Pack.
We passed several more earth lodges like the one I'd stayed in as we walked. The trees here were sparse; tall and imposing, a different kind from the ones I was used to closer to the edge of the forest. From the carpet of needles beneath our feet I guessed they were some type of pine, but I couldn't be sure. The land was hilly and open, and from time to time I would catch a glimpse of a beautiful view overlooking the forest through the branches, the landscape stretching for miles into the distance. It seemed far too exposed a location for a pack of werewolves to make their home, but the people we passed by seemed just as relaxed and content as anyone.
After five minutes of walking we came to a ring of trees at the top of the hill, several shacks and dwellings clustered close together around a large tent in the centre. Smoke billowed from a flap between the stitched animal skins at the top, and what looked like a carved tribal totem stood to one side of the dark entrance, decorated with bones and topped with a bird skull.
I hung back, eyeing the strange structure as my apprehension returned. The Wood Pack really were old. Old enough to have developed their own strange culture and traditions after living out here in the wilderness for so long. Whoever this Agatha was, I had a feeling she wouldn't be one of the city wolves I was used to.
"Don't worry about it," the blonde said after noticing I'd stopped. "She's not as scary as her tent is. Go on in, I'll be waiting out here when the two of you are finished."
"I suppose I should ask if you've got any advice before I go in," I said.
He shrugged. "She'll try her best to help you if you let her. She's our den mother for a reason. You won't find a smarter old lady out there who knows as much as she does about werewolves."
I pressed my lips together and stepped forward, trying not to look at the unsettling totem as I approached the open flap of the tent. If this Agatha was reasonable, at the very least she might be able to persuade Rowan to go easy on Thorne. If not, I'd let her know that I wouldn't be staying around for long.
I took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
The interior of the tent was dark and musty, full of homely and tantalising scents. Rather than being oppressive, as I'd expected, the atmosphere felt warm and reassuring. I fumbled forwards, making my way through a series of hanging flaps as I passed by several stacks of jars and racks of clothing. The tent seemed like it was segmented off into several different areas, and judging by the size of it I suddenly began to wonder whether I'd get myself lost before finding Agatha. The sound of a crackling fire reached my ears from up ahead, and I kept on pushing the flaps aside until I caught sight of an orange glow in an open space, moving forward until I emerged into the dimly lit area.
An old woman, who I could only assume was Agatha, sat on a large wicker chair behind the fire, fiddling with something in her hands. When I edged closer I realised it was a cell phone.
"Double-yew, five... where's the double-yew," she muttered, before glancing up at me. Her hair was thick and stone-grey, but her face looked younger than I'd been expecting. She smiled at me and rose to her feet with surprising ease, her long, rustic gown fluttering about her as she waggled the phone in my direction. "It's a lot harder to figure out how to use these things when you've been out of the loop for fifty years," she said. "My parents never even used to let me use the telephone before I took to living out in the woods."
I couldn't help but smile as Agatha tutted and tossed the phone back into her seat, reminding me of how my own grandmother had been when she used to try and grapple with technology.
"They told me to come and see you," I said. "I'm Lyssa."
"Mm, so I heard." She walked over to me, putting her hands on my shoulders as she studied my face in the firelight. "Another young girl who found her way out here," she sighed. "Come and have a seat and you can tell me all about yourself."
I let her lead me to the other side of the fire and set me down on a comfortable hand-stitched cushion before she sank back into her own seat.
"So!" she said. "You brought Hawthorne back with you last night."
"He brought me. He thought we'd be safe here, with your pack."
"It's not my pack, Rowan's the alpha."
I frowned, curious. The way she'd said the alpha made it sound as though she wasn't particularly awed by his status. "But he's not your alpha?"
Agatha chuckled. "Ah, well it's hard to let go of old loyalties, isn't it? Rowan's a fine young man, and he does a good job of looking after the pack. But yes, I have a hard time seeing him as anything other than another one of my youngsters, still."
"Is that why they sent me to speak to you instead of him? I've never heard of a p
ack with a female in charge before, but they all seem to listen to you."
"I've been around for a very long time," Agatha said, leaning back in her chair. "My mate was alpha before Rowan, and we made all of our decisions together, for the betterment of the pack. After he passed on, everyone just carried on listening to me. Now, I don't like to toot my own horn, but after all those years of being in charge I think everyone agrees that I know a thing or two about looking out for them. I'm not their leader, but they all listen when I have something to say."
"Then you can help me persuade them to go easy on Thorne."
The old woman pressed her lips together, shaking her head slightly. "I'm sure I could, but as I said, I'm not the alpha, and they have good reason for wanting to be careful with young Hawthorne."
"But he's not—"
Agatha raised a palm, and I fell silent. "We're not here to talk about him, at least not yet. I want to hear about you, Lyssa, and then we'll decide what the best course of action is to deal with our other problems."
"Fine," I consented. I had a feeling pushing the issue wasn't going to get me anywhere with Agatha. She seemed too patient to be pressured into anything. "What do you want to know about me?"
"What brought you here? Why? What sort of a person are you?" She smiled and folded her hands in her lap. "Tell me about yourself. I want to know what sort of young woman I'm welcoming into my pack."
I shuffled around on the cushion, picking at a loose tassel along the seam. I wasn't used to talking about myself at length. After an uncertain start I began to tell Agatha about how I'd first become a werewolf, where I'd lived, my love for going off on adventures in the forest behind my house, and how one evening it had led to my hazy encounter with the creature who'd first bitten me.
Wild Instincts - Complete Edition (Werewolf Erotic Romance) Page 13
