by Mel Favreaux
He peered from his hiding place, watching her gather kindling and logs. She had grown into a beautiful woman, possibly in her early thirties by now. But it was the smile that lit up her face. It was contagious.
She’s in danger, he reminded himself.
Braedyn had been her secret guardian for years whenever she’d come to the forest. His stomach knotted. This was not a good time.
“Casey,” he whispered her name into the wind and couldn’t help but smile.
It had been six years since he’d seen her last. Twenty years from their first and last personal encounter. That moment had been burned forever into his mind for many reasons. She had been his first friend outside of his family and close-knit community. The first to accept him and show him that humanity, for all its faults; was kind, caring, and absolutely naïve.
Sighing, he slowly backed away. So much for a few days of peace, he now had a job to do.
He had to protect her.
Casey was alone.
There was a target on her head.
And they weren’t but a few days away from the full moon.
* * * *
Without the long hike and the additional time to set up on her own, Casey’d had time to do some exploring and picture taking before having to hunker down for the night.
Taking a deep breath, Casey lowered her Nikon and blew onto her hands as she looked down into the forested valley below. There had been quite a few spectacular shots taken throughout the day, and she couldn’t wait to get back to her old dark room to develop them. An entire day surrounded by the wilderness had been exhilarating.
A smile curved the edges of her mouth while she surveyed the greenery. She felt alive. The way her career had taken over her life the last ten years, she’d been running headlong into a nervous breakdown.
This was her first vacation in years; so far it was everything she’d hoped it to be. It felt good to be back in the wilds of northwestern Montana, camping in the wilderness of the Cabinet Mountains.
Having grown up a tomboy, she’d almost spent more time hiking and camping through its rough country than at home. Casey missed being under the stars with just her dad, brother, and herself. She ached to feel the way she had as a child; carefree and full of hope.
The tang of evergreens hung heavy in the air, and she tucked a few stray strands of silvery blond hair behind her ear. Raising her Nikon once more, she peered through the viewer and spanned the greenery. An odd grey blotch drew her attention. Narrowing her eyes, she zoomed in. A gorgeous grey wolf came into view.
Casey smiled. “Wow, after all these years.”
The large wolf closed his eyes and raised his nose in the air. It was a photo of him that landed on Arlen Andrews’ desk twelve long years ago and jump-started her Hollywood career.
It was difficult to forget the deep grey coloring and black streaks that surrounded and rose from the corners of his eyes. The marks met together behind his head, then pooled into a saddle mark across his back. But most of all, she remembered the pale grey eyes.
The wolf looked directly into the lens and her hands shook. Those eyes didn’t belong to a wolf. Hell they didn’t belong on an animal period. They were so…human.
Lowering the camera a moment to see how close he was, Casey frowned when she couldn’t see him. She looked through the viewer again. He was gone.
“Damn.”
Casey pursed her lips, leaned against a tree, and looking around, reveled in the peace she felt here. Shivering, she noticed the sun was making its decent. The temperature was supposed to drop into the upper twenties. She needed to get back to camp for the night.
Hefting the pack onto her back, she set out for the mile hike. Keeping her eyes peeled for anything interesting, hope blossomed in her chest for the chance to see the wolf again.
It would be nice to take some pictures of him now and group them with some of the older shots. They would make for an interesting layout. Getting back into her original passion would feel good. Wildlife photography had been her life goal until fame and fortune knocked on her door.
The truth settled in. Casey had made up her mind even before seeing the wolf again. There was no way she was going back to L.A. and Hollywood. She was done.
On her way back to camp, she picked up more kindling, there could never be too much. The fire pit had already been laid out. It didn’t take long before a nice fire was roaring.
The temperature dropped. A definite change was in the air. Vapor clouds from her breath seemed to crystallize in the air before her. The snow would start soon; she pulled out an extra bottle of propane. Before the night was over Casey knew she’d need it.
With a cup of instant coffee and some of her dad’s famous deer jerky and trail mix, the campout staples, she sat on a log near the fire. It amazed her something so simple as these few things could evoke such strong and warm emotions from her childhood. Growing up with just her dad and brother, Casey’d learned many things most girls didn’t. Looking back, she realized just how much their father had prepared her and Dean for the grueling years once they left home.
The crackling of the blaze soothed her in ways she hadn’t been in a long time. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth when the realization dawned. She’d managed to reach her goal. Gone was the tension in her neck and shoulders. Her jaw wasn’t sore anymore from the constant clenching and biting her tongue. Casey was relieved and completely at peace. This was where she needed to be.
While stoking the fire, she realized the sounds of the forest had quieted. It was a sure sign snow was on the way. The animals were smart enough to hunker down and wait out the storm. The forecast predicted two to three inches with the storm. Casey couldn’t wait to be surrounded by it and feel the peace that came with being one with the elements.
Many times she’d watched the first snow of the season while camped out with her father and brother. She was well prepared to deal with anything Mother Nature tossed at her during her brief stay. Her father had packed extra supplies in case the snowfall was more than predicted or should her stay be extended before they could meet up with her. Casey almost hoped it would.
From past experience she knew wolves began their prowl soon after sunset. Staring into the forest, Casey watched for movement. They were smart enough to stay away from her scent. She’d been cautious of the meals she intended to make so as not to draw any unwanted attention from the hungry animals in the forest.
Her father had made sure she had all that was necessary for hunting and dressing her kills. Peyton had packed the essentials: an axe, a double barreled shotgun, her three-eighty pistol, and a bow. But by far, her favorite was her father’s old hunting knife with its ten inch blade honed to perfection and sharp enough to shave with.
Relaxing, she unsnapped the guard over the three-eighty holstered on her side for easier access. Her father made sure he taught Casey and her brother, Dean to always be prepared.
Her father and brother were both Black Ops Marines, and they made sure she knew everything they did about survival. Growing up with the two tall and burly men, Casey knew it would be a challenge to find the perfect man to replace them in her life. They’d proven time and again they were dependable and committed to caring for her and preparing her for life without them. So far, she’d been unable to find one who could hold a comparative candle and that saddened her.
The snap of a brittle twig brought Casey from her musings. She looked around for the source. Animal eye shine caught her attention. It was merely a raccoon. Noticing her attention, it turned and scampered out of sight. She laughed and took a sip of her cooling coffee.
With a grimace, she pulled the warmed pot from the fire and added a little more hot water to her cup. The first howl in the distance made her smile. The call was answered a moment later and yet another joined in. She pulled her father’s thick wool blanket around her shoulders and took another swig of coffee.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of the cold air mixed with the smoke from
the fire. It had been far too long since there had been time to enjoy nature and she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten how much she truly loved being immersed in it. Casey snuggled down into the blanket. Warmed by the fire and memorable thoughts of her childhood, she dozed.
With a shiver, she woke. Beside her, the fire was little more than embers. Her back was sore from the position she’d curled into against the log. Groaning, Casey stood and pulled the woolen cover closer before turning toward the tent. The warmth of her sleeping bag and the propane heater were especially inviting.
The door of the tent was ten feet away and she wished it closer. Batting away a few fat flakes which fell with increasing intensity, she shuffled toward it through the layer of snow that had drifted through the tree limbs overhead. Groggy and cold, Casey felt a little out of sorts. The muted sounds seemed almost ethereal, sweet yet ominous at the same time. Apprehension played at the edge of her mind.
Maybe she shouldn’t have come out alone.
A low growl rumbled. Unease prickled down her back. She froze mid-step, aware that any sudden movement could draw an attack. Sliding a hand down her side, she realized with dismay, her holster was empty. She wanted to kick herself for not securing her best defense against brave animals.
Casey forced herself to swallow, trying to sense which direction the sound had come from. It had been close.
Had the beast been startled or lying in wait?
Slowly, scanning the way she’d come, she saw the gun lying next to the log, already partially covered by snow.
The shotgun inside the tent wasn’t much help, neither was the bow and the ax, buried in a log was useless, too. All she had was her father’s hunting knife strapped to her thigh.
Casey took a deep breath and felt for the knife. Stay calm, her father’s soothing words rang through her mind. Twigs snapping to her right made her jump and stumble over the blanket.
On her back and totally exposed, she discovered the source of the growl; a female wolf. Saliva dripped from her bared canines. The wolf’s golden eyes flashed red in the firelight. Pure, unadulterated hatred and anger poured off the animal.
Casey’s heart stuttered. The female was less than three feet away. The wolf was no doubt quicker. One lunge was all it would take. Even if Casey managed to pull the knife from its scabbard, she wasn’t sure it would be enough defense against the viscous creature.
Her heart beat a stampede in her ears. The snow muted the sounds around her. Never had her family been attacked or felt anything less than safe out here, until now. Her father’s favorite spot didn’t seem so great now. Casey knew if she survived this, she’d never be able to look at this camp through the same eyes.
The wolf licked her lips and gnashed her teeth. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Casey eased her hand toward the handle of the knife. The snap of the release made the female growl and lower her head. The honed handle in her palm seemed of little comfort, but Casey would at least have a fighting chance if the wolf attacked.
A howl echoed through the forest. Both she and the animal jumped. Baring her teeth again, the female darted about the camp when the howl erupted again. It was closer than before. Both of her ears twitched, and then perked while the wolf narrowed her eyes. Agitated, the fur on the female’s back twitched, rose, and bunched around her shoulders.
Casey tried to slow her breathing before she hyperventilated, but panic edged closer. From the animal’s reaction, she could tell the wolf knew something was coming and was debating the issue. It was obvious the creature wasn’t happy.
After a moment, the she-wolf turned her angry gaze to hers once more, eyes flashing from golden to red.
Adrenaline coursed through Casey and found her vision much sharper. She wondered if the entire pack was on its way for the feast tonight as yet another howl rose from the forest. The grip she had on the knife brought a dull ache to her palm. She was afraid to move. If she released the blade, the wolf would surely lunge. With another wolf on the way, Casey prayed it wouldn’t show up behind her. Against one wolf she would stand a fighting chance, but two?
A low growl sounded, one she could feel and hear. Her worst fears confirmed, the other wolf was behind her. Casey kept her eyes trained on the female in front since she’d already shown aggression. She considered the newcomer could be fiercer and was torn about what to do.
Would she rather look death in the eye or have it come from behind?
Her only hope was the wolves would distract each other long enough for Casey to put as much distance between her and them as possible. She hoped to make it to the tent for the shotgun.
The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and a growl from behind resonated up her spine. The female took a step closer and snapped her jaws. The echoed response from the one unseen sounded like it had been brought up from the pits of hell.
Despite the frigid temperatures, sweat rolled down Casey’s temple. The newcomer’s footsteps padded heavily on the ground. From the corner of her eye she saw him, less than two feet from her. His attention was solely on the female.
Her heart thundered when she recognized him. It was the wolf she’d spotted earlier. The one she had a history with. Casey had stared at photos of him for too many years not to recognize his unique marks and color. Her fears settled only a fraction with his arrival.
Remembering the few times she’d spotted the male with a few of his pack mates, Casey recognized the female as well. The female was a darker, only slightly smaller version of the male. Her eyes however were the normal golden color of most wolves, where his were a pale grey. The male had always been her favorite; the other a close second. Despite her unease, Casey wondered why they seemed vengeful of one another.
The male stepped closer, almost like he was attempting to wedge his way between her and the female wolf. Casey’s heart jumped in her chest when the she-wolf snapped with alarm and lunged a few feet toward the male in a feint move before turning and lunging toward her. With a deep growl, the male jumped and intercepted his pack-mate just before she was able to pounce on Casey.
Struggling to keep herself from making any noise or sudden movements, Casey clenched her fist around the handle of the knife, waiting for the moment when she would have to fight.
While their paws scrambled for purchase in the snow, Casey rolled to her feet and ran. The snow was falling rapidly and she slid on a layer of ice and fell while the horrible sounds of the scuffle behind her reached a crescendo.
She realized almost too late, that she would be unable to make it to the tent and the much needed weapons before the animals turned on her in such close quarters. Fighting with the zipper and then digging…Rising to her feet, Casey scuttled cautiously but quickly in attempt to put as much distance between herself and the snarling wolves. Another growl rose to her right and brought a halt to her progress.
Adrenaline flooded her mouth; the acrid taste of coffee burned her throat. She crouched for protection, raising the knife. Casey wasn’t going down without a fight. As the growling wolf moved closer, it was one she also recognized.
He too was one of the pack-mates, though the other male was far larger. She watched as his eyes stared over her shoulder toward the fray as the howls, growls, and gnashing jaws stopped.
Dread settled over her. Now she had a pack of wolves to defend herself against. She wished she had her three-eighty. At least with it there would be a fighting chance against three wolves. With a knife, she knew her chance was slim to none.
A growl sounded behind her, and Casey knew at least one, if not both wolves were approaching. She heard a soft whine that made her think one of them had been injured in the fight; the winner was behind her. It was foolish but she couldn’t resist a glance at the creature who would most likely be the cause of her death. Fear mixed with relief when she saw the male looking largely unscathed save for one scratch on his cheek. Once again, his eyes weren’t on her but on the other wolf.
When he neared, the other male averted his eyes, lowe
red his head, and backed away. The larger male snuffed and stepped closer to her when the other turned and fled.
Less than two feet separated her from him. She struggled not to make eye contact, but his eyes were so beautiful and uncommon. The paleness of them completely belied the usual golden of most wolves.
“Please,” she whispered. Her hands shook from cold and fear; she wasn’t sure which was more prominent.
The wolf lowered his eyes and bowed his head.
It was the same pose the other male had given before he’d slunk away. Adrenaline still coursed through her, she was afraid to think the wolf had shown her signs of submission only to fool her enough to drop her guard.
Her hand tightened on the hunting knife, not ready to give in. It wasn’t over.
The thunderous reverberation of running footfalls jerked her attention. She turned just in time to see the female wolf lunge. Casey didn’t have time to raise the hunting knife before one hundred and fifty pounds of wolf slammed into her chest.
Its teeth gnashed mere inches from her face. Rolling out from beneath the blow, she covered her face and throat. At the same time, driving her elbow into the wolf’s ribcage, using every bit of strength she could manage with the blow.
Casey howled in pain when the wolf sunk her teeth into her left shoulder. Her mind reeled when the cry echoed and was joined by a chorus of howls that rose in the forest. The pain made her vision grow dark. Managing to get one leg under her, to regain leverage, Casey shifted, using the wolf’s own weight to toss it over her shoulder.
Viciously sharp teeth had torn through the heavyweight parka. Casey hoped the elbow driven into the bitch’s ribs had done enough damage and was relieved when she noticed the female was slow to get up.
Casey tried to ignore the intense pain in her shoulder that traveled down into her back and chest. The exposed wound burned as the cold air leached the warmth from her. But she was alive, and this wasn’t over yet. She couldn’t give in. With a grunt, Casey rose to a crouch and raised the knife when the wolf got back to her feet.
Blinking away the rapidly falling snow that landed on her lashes, Casey tried to ready herself for the next attack. The handle of the knife was smooth in her palm. A strange tingling began to flow through her. She feared blood loss had sapped too much of her strength.
