Wolf Hollow (Wolf Hollow Shifters, Book 1)

by Nikki Jefford

  Everything felt so perfect at that moment until a guttural howl echoed across the valley, an anguished cry that made the hair on Tabor’s back stand on end.

  The howl sounded foreign, yet somehow familiar. Tabor shifted and got to his feet for a better look, shielding the sun from his eyes with his hand.

  A lone wolf appeared in view on the far side of the valley. It ran at a steady gate in their direction. Tabor squinted, looking for signs of madness. It was difficult to tell from this distance. They wouldn’t know for sure until it came closer.

  Tabor wished he’d brought his bow and quiver, especially since he’d walked the whole way and could have easily brought them with him. Although he felt confident in his magic skills, there was a familiar comfort to his bow. He could call on his powers, but they weren’t always as reliable. He wouldn’t want to experiment if the situation involved a rabid wolf.

  The closer the wolf came, the bigger it looked, and not only because of its proximity. The beast was massive. It had thick gray and white fur and long legs supporting a large body. Something about the wolf looked eerily familiar. If Tabor were in wolf form, and if they were downwind, he could sense who it was with better accuracy. At the moment, the wind didn’t blow at all, and yet a sense of unease wafted across Tabor like a sudden gust across the valley.

  Sasha had gone still beside him.

  “Do you think it’s rabid?” Tabor asked, even though she couldn’t answer him.

  They were safe as long as the wolf remained on the valley floor. It seemed focused, intent on keeping a steady pace heading directly toward the hill.

  Rabid wolves weren’t typically this direct. Then again, it wasn’t normal for a sane wolf to roam the wilds alone. Chances of survival were greatly diminished, and wolves were pack animals unless turned mad.

  Fifty yards from the hillside, the gray wolf stopped and looked up, searching the ridge, another indication that the animal’s sanity was in check.

  When it spotted Sasha and Tabor, it blinked once then trembled as fur receded and turned to bronzed, muscular skin.

  He remained crouched for a moment, as though gathering his bearings, then rose to his feet.

  Without the fur, his muscles bulged over his body, rippling from his legs to his torso to his arms. Scars etched his body in veinlike lines that rose off his chest, but he looked no less magnificent against the sun’s golden glow.

  A head of thick brown hair lifted, eyes looking upward at the shifter and she-wolf staring down.

  Sasha’s wolf gave a forlorn cry.

  Tabor silently cursed.

  His royal purebloodedness had returned to Wolf Hollow.

  He wished it had been a rabid wolf.

  chapter sixteen

  Even before Wolfrik shifted, Sasha knew who he was. She’d known the moment he’d howled across the valley. She would have recognized his call anywhere.

  Still, she waited cautiously atop the bluff, looking to see that he was alone and didn’t pose a threat.

  As Wolfrik jogged across the valley, Sasha longed to run out and meet her old friend, to nuzzle and rejoice in his return. He was okay. He was alive.

  She shifted, pushed herself off the ground, and stood on shaky legs. By the time she did, Wolfrik had disappeared from view.

  Her eyes widened. She looked at Tabor, who stood with his fists clenched.

  “Where is he?” she asked in alarm.

  “Headed up the trail,” Tabor answered gruffly.

  With Sasha’s emotions in a tangled mess, she didn’t have time to worry about Tabor’s dejection. She could barely believe her eyes. She’d never expected to see Wolfrik again. Heart hammering out of control, she waited for him to reappear on top of the bluff.

  Should she go greet him? What would she say first? She had a thousand questions. The first to ask where the hell he’d been these past three years.

  When his hulking form emerged down the trail, the questions on Sasha’s tongue dried up. It was as though a stranger approached. Wolfrik was more muscular than she remembered him and there was a hardness around his eyes and jaw.

  Angry scars formed red ridges over Wolfrik’s tanned skin. He looked both gorgeous and deadly at once.

  His steps slowed as he closed in. The lambent eyes, which had been drinking in Sasha, now turned to Tabor and narrowed to thin slits. Wolfrik stuck out his muscular chest, reminding Sasha more of a grizzly bear on his hind legs than a wolf. Her eyes flicked over to Tabor, who refused to look away from the approaching shifter. Wolfrik seemed to perceive it as a threat.

  “Wolfrik!” Sasha cried, unable to hold back any longer.

  Her voice dragged his attention away from Tabor. Wolfrik stopped in his tracks to refocus on Sasha—the chill in his eyes spreading goosebumps over her arms.

  “Wolfrik,” she said again, disbelief accentuating his name as she spoke. “Where have you been?”

  Wolfrik folded his arms across his chest. “It doesn’t matter where I’ve been. I’m back now.”

  A snarl rose up Sasha’s throat. That was all he had to say for himself? Before she could demand more answers, Wolfrik dropped his arms and barreled past her and Tabor, dust flying up under his heavy footsteps.

  Sasha and Tabor exchanged a quick look of surprise before striding after him.

  “Where are you going?” Sasha demanded, hurrying to catch up.

  Scars crisscrossed Wolfrik’s back. It looked as though he’d been whipped repeatedly. The sight made Sasha nauseous.

  Without turning around, Wolfrik said, “To camp. I’m starving.”

  Sasha and Tabor kept pace behind him. When they passed the grassy patch where they’d coupled earlier, Tabor snatched up his clothes, falling behind to get dressed.

  Soon, Sasha heard Tabor jogging to catch up.

  Wolfrik showed no signs of slowing, and Sasha didn’t think it would be a good idea to try stopping him. Tabor seemed to agree, following silently alongside her, eyes following Wolfrik’s every move.

  “Not mad, but not right in the head either,” Tabor muttered when they walked side by side where the trail widened. “I don’t like the way he’s behaving.”

  “He’s been gone for almost three years. Who knows what horrors he’s been through during that time?” Sasha didn’t mean to rush to Wolfrik’s defense; no one felt more betrayed by him than she, but after her encounter with humans, she had plenty of disturbing ideas.

  Tabor made no response. He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t read then quickened his pace, leaving Sasha trailing behind. She caught up quickly.

  “We don’t know who we’re dealing with,” Tabor said, as though Sasha had made his point clear. “A wolf who has been alone in the wild too long loses his humanity. For all we know he’s been a wolf this entire time. He’s been reduced to his animal instincts. First he’ll want food and water. Next he’ll want sex.” Tabor grabbed Sasha’s shoulders and turned her to face him. “He’ll want you,” he growled.

  They stood facing one another. Tabor’s eyebrows knit. He no longer looked angry. He looked nervous.

  “Well, he can’t have me,” Sasha said, lifting her head. “I chose you.”

  “I saw the way he looked at you. He won’t care.”

  Sasha snarled. “So that’s it? You’re going to step aside and let him have me?”

  Tabor growled. “No way.”

  Sasha’s anger and hurt began to subside. If Tabor was going to be her mate, she needed him to stand firm on the matter. She needed him to tell their elders to back off and to fight Wolfrik if he had to. She’d seen him take down Zackary. Despite Wolfrik’s hulking mass of muscle, Tabor could knock him off his feet with a flick of his wrist.

  Tabor was one of the strongest shifters in Wolf Hollow, even if he didn’t realize it.

  A startled growl caught their attention. It was joined b
y a second and cut off by a human roar. Leaning apart, Sasha looked down the trail, noticing Wolfrik had disappeared from their sight and entered a new patrol area. He’d probably scared the living daylights out of the shifters in the next section.

  “Dammit,” Sasha said, taking off down the path at a run.

  Trees flew by. Even in human form she was athletic and fast. Sasha rounded the bend and came upon Jordan and Hudson, who were just getting up off the ground after shifting. Sasha looked around frantically, but Wolfrik was nowhere in sight.

  Jordan’s chest rose and fell. “Wolfrik. We saw him. He’s back,” she panted.

  “Where is he?” Sasha demanded.

  Hudson’s brows slanted. He shook his head. “He’s heading to camp, didn’t even stop.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Jordan asked, eyes going wide.

  “He’s hungry,” Sasha muttered before taking off at a run down the trail, legs and arms pumping fast.

  The compact earth met the balls of Sasha’s feet every time she pushed off. Fresh forest air filled her lungs. The trail curved then arced again before straightening out. Sasha caught sight of Wolfrik making his way at the same steady pace toward camp.

  At least he wasn’t running, which gave her a chance to catch up. She didn’t expect him to suddenly stop. When he did, she ran into his back, breasts colliding painfully with his rough skin.

  Wolfrik spun around and grabbed Sasha by both arms. She yelped as his fingers tightened around her.

  Wolfrik’s upper lip curled. “I can smell that half-breed on you,” he growled.

  Sasha tried to twist her arms out of Wolfrik’s grasp, but he held firm. She stomped on his foot, but he stood immobile, as though impervious to pain.

  “How soon did you give up on me? A day? Two?” He scoured her with his gaze.

  “Three years!” Sasha screamed, rage exploding inside her chest cavity. “You’re the one who left, Wolfrik.”

  His grip tightened. There would be bruises on Sasha’s arms. She was getting ready to ram her knee into his groin when he shoved her aside.

  “I didn’t leave,” Wolfrik snarled.

  His body jerked and he started down the path once more.

  This time, Sasha didn’t go after him, nor could she tear her eyes away from the shifter who had once been her closest friend, lover, and future mate. This wasn’t the male she’d known and cared for so many years. She didn’t recognize this new shifter descending upon the hollow like a threatening storm cloud.

  A twig snapped as Tabor, Jordan, and Hudson came jogging down the trail. They stopped when they reached Sasha.

  Sasha wrapped her arms around her waist, forgetting about the indents Wolfrik had made in her skin until Jordan’s eyes widened on the marks. She sucked in a breath.

  “Did Wolfrik do that?” Jordan demanded.

  “He’s not in his right mind,” Sasha answered numbly.

  “We better escort him to camp before he startles anyone else,” Hudson said.

  Jordan nodded. “Shift?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Hudson said. “That way we can bite him if he tries to grab either of us.”

  Jordan huffed. “Unless he wants to lose a finger, he’ll keep his hands to himself.”

  Sasha’s chest tightened. She didn’t want anyone provoking Wolfrik. He needed a chance to settle in. Once he felt safe he might start talking.

  Hudson and Jordan got to the ground and shifted. They ran after Wolfrik, leaving Sasha and Tabor standing in silence for several moments on the trail.

  “You don’t want to go after him again?” Tabor asked in a low voice.

  Sasha sniffed and held her arms out. “Obviously he’s not happy to see me.”

  Tabor’s nostrils flared. “I’m going to find a way to hurt him for touching you. Not a bad idea of Jordan’s to remove fingers.”

  Sasha shook her head sadly. “Can’t you see he’s been hurt enough already?”

  “That doesn’t excuse him from hurting you.”

  “I know, but I think we need to give him a little space before we go on the attack.”

  Tabor folded his arms. “I don’t trust him.”

  A shiver went through Sasha, remembering the way Wolfrik had shoved her aside. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “I don’t think he trusts himself right now, but he needs us. He needs his pack, even if he’s not ready to admit it. Let’s go.”

  No longer concerned with catching up, she and Tabor walked the remainder of the way to camp, but not before taking a detour to the cave where Sasha pulled on her dress.

  Howls of excitement rose above the tree line. They were answered with cries from all around the hollow. If Wolfrik weren’t back, Sasha would have suspected it meant Francine’s pup had arrived. But when she’d left the laboring shifter, Melissa, widely known as the den mother, had taken Sasha aside to tell her she suspected the birth would last many hours.

  “He’s stealing Francine’s thunder,” Tabor noted, as though reading Sasha’s mind. The amusement in his voice was good to hear after their tumultuous morning.

  It was bad enough that Jager and Garrick had cornered Tabor. Now Wolfrik had shown up out of the blue.

  By the time they reached the clearing, a small crowd had gathered and stood around, all naked as they’d likely been taken by surprise at Wolfrik’s appearance.

  Emerson stood beneath the shade of a tree skinning two squirrels. She jammed the sharpened end of a stick down the dead critters’ throats while Aden fed kindling to the communal fire, coaxing the flames back to life.

  Wolfrik sat on a log, one leg bouncing up and down. His eyes darted around the clearing as though weary of attack. Despite the excitement in the air, the other shifters kept their distance from the hulking pureblood.

  As more shifters rushed to the scene, whispers arose around them.

  Nearby, Camilla and Rosalie clutched one another. “Thank the moon. Wolfrik has returned. Finally, good fortune for the hollow,” Rosalie gushed.

  “A fortunate day, indeed,” Camilla cooed. “I have a new brother or sister due at any moment.”

  “Wait another eight months and you’ll have another baby sibling,” Rosalie said.

  Camilla scuffed. “My father can start his own pack for all I care. Soon I’m going to have my own family.”

  “Oh yeah?” Rosalie said, voice lifting. “Have you told Raider yet?” She sniggered.

  Camilla tossed her hair back and grinned. “Who said anything about talking? Jager’s pairing us in the mating dance. In a few days he’ll be all mine.”

  “Didn’t he and Kallie have a thing going on?” Rosalie asked.

  Camilla dismissed this with a huff. “They’re friends. That’s all. Besides, she’s a cripple now. Maybe Jager will have her.”

  Sasha snarled.

  Camilla’s head jerked up. She pouted in Sasha’s direction. Camilla took Rosalie’s arm and steered her toward the opposite side of the clearing. As they moved, Sasha heard Camilla griping. “What’s her problem? She should be thrilled that Wolfrik’s back.”

  “Maybe she has a thing for Raider,” Rosalie answered in a loud whisper.

  With a groan, Sasha turned to Tabor. “Can we announce our claim at dinner tonight?”

  Tabor took her hand in his and squeezed. “Only a few more days until the full moon ceremony. Until then, maybe a kiss will clear things up.” He leaned in and planted a soothing kiss on Sasha’s temple. She leaned against him.

  Several shifters did a double take and looked at them wide-eyed, but most were staring at Wolfrik as though he were a ghost that might disappear or leap up and howl.

  A hush fell over the gathering as Jager limped into the clearing.

  Either the potion Tabor had been providing him with had worn off or Jager had forgone the stuff. Probably out of princ
iple. Stubborn fool. Sasha needed to have words with him.

  When Jager saw Wolfrik, his eyes bugged out of their sockets. “Great mother of moonshine. It’s true. He’s returned.”

  Jager half hopped, half limped his way to where Wolfrik sat. Unlike Jager, there was no warmth in Wolfrik’s eyes as they homed in on the elder rushing to reach him.

  Sasha was too far away to hear what Jager said once he reached Wolfrik.

  Emerson set the squirrel kabob over a spit above the fire. As the scent of roasting meat filled the air, Wolfrik stood up and walked over to the firepit.

  Jager frowned at this abrupt departure, but it didn’t deter the old man from limping over to join Wolfrik at the fire.

  Before the meat had a chance to fully cook, Wolfrik grabbed the stick and held it in front of his mouth, ripping squirrel flesh off the stick with his teeth. He devoured both squirrels within seconds then tossed the stick, along with the bones, into the fire and swiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  There were murmurs all around.

  “Did you see his scars?”

  “What do you think happened to him?”

  When Garrick arrived he didn’t waste time gawking. He stuck three fingers in his mouth and issued a piercing whistle. Everyone went silent.

  “Get back to your posts,” he bellowed. “You don’t abandon your duties unless a council member sends someone to take your place or instruct you otherwise. Now get going.”

  Murmurs of discontent arose, but everyone slunk off toward the forest.

  Some shifted in the clearing before running off on four legs. Sasha hadn’t seen Jordan or Hudson. They’d probably alerted the den then been sent straight back to their post by Garrick.

  Sasha was all too happy to oblige Garrick on this order. Wolfrik didn’t need half the pack crowding around him. Maybe he’d open up to the elders.

  As Sasha and Tabor turned to leave, Garrick cleared his voice.

  She turned slowly and narrowed her eyes, sure she wouldn’t like what was coming next.

  “Not you, Sasha. You and Wolfrik have a lot of catching up to do.” The whites of Garrick’s teeth gleamed when he smiled.