by Tenaya Jayne
Screw it. Whoever he was and whatever he wanted, he wasn’t attacking her. She’d come here to run, and now she would. The moon filled her wolf body, refreshed and centered her. Her muscles ached to move.
She was on the verge of darting away when his eyes appeared in the dark. A wolf came toward her, fur blacker than midnight, eyes green like emeralds. A vibrant trauma flowed through her veins and went straight to her heart. His aura reached out to hers and grabbed hold. She reached back. The subtle channels of communication that only wolves could share opened between them. In wolf form, there was no way to lie or hide what you felt. Whoever this man was, she was connected to him. Drawn in. Taken over. Consumed by chemistry.
This was why she hadn’t wanted to run with Gahu. The most basic nature, male and female, took over. But this was different. This was beyond, and again, unnatural.
How could there be a werewolf she didn’t know? But she didn’t know him.
She darted away, running flat out as fast as she could. He followed as she knew he would. It became a race. They ran neck and neck. She prided herself on being very fast, but he kept pace with her effortlessly. Had she wandered into a dream? Who was he? She’d never seen a more beautiful wolf in her life. Wolves were beautiful, all of them. But him…this black wolf was exquisite and otherworldly. Would he be as beautiful as a man? She desperately wanted to know.
Communication was in the psyche, beyond words. She didn’t get much from him just a strangled kind of joy, somewhat fearful. He wanted her, she felt that, but he kept his distance. Content to just run beside her, just to be near her.
A powerful pull began inside her, as if she were tethered to him. He didn’t behave as any other wolf would. He held instinct in check, or it was something else, like a confusion inside him as to how to treat her. She was thrown by that. He didn’t attempt to establish dominance. Why? She didn’t question his desire. He couldn’t hide it from her. Just as he felt her attraction to him.
Sabra stopped running and drank from the river. He waited beside her. Teasingly, she slapped him on the snout with her tail, to see what he would do. He moved forward and caught her tail in his teeth. Oh, goodness, she was in trouble, in the best way.
He released her and lowered his head to just under her chin. A surge of remorse came from him, and he sank further down in a show of submission. She was confused. He was apologizing. For what? She pushed at him, mentally. Questioning him.
He jumped away and ran. She followed, only to have him turn on her. He growled a warning. She held still, more confused than ever. Their time together was over. He was leaving. He turned and disappeared into the night.
Sabra waited, disappointed and mystified. She would find out who he was. They were connected, somehow. She was sure she would see him again…well, she hoped. If she saw him in his man form, would she know it was him?
She ran home in wolf form, her mind spinning, forgetting her clothes altogether. Something profound had changed inside her. The black wolf had given her a new measure of strength. She would hold fast to her desires for her future. Even when others tried to break her hands, she would hold on.
****
Shreve followed Sabra at a great distance after shifting back into his normal state. His heart trembled. What had happened? What had he done? And why? He didn’t know wolves shared a level of mental connection like that. Had he known, he definitely wouldn’t have taken a wolf form next to her. Too late now. The experience rocked him to the foundation of his soul. It was honest, intimate, and carnal. It was terrifying that she could see him that deeply, and he could look that far into her in return. Absolutely terrifying.
And he wanted it again.
He went back to the place he’d been resting before she broke into his peace and shattered it. She’d left her clothes. Unable to help himself, he picked them up and buried his nose in her shirt before putting the garments in his bag with his own.
What are you doing? In all the world, in all the worlds that exist, she’s the last woman that could be for you. Once she knows who you are…she will blame you for her sister’s death, and rightly so. Once she knows, this misguided dream will end. He argued with himself. She doesn’t have to know.
Chapter Four
Banging on the front door woke Sabra before the morning’s light. Her sleep had been restless and filled with dreams of the black wolf. She groaned and rolled over on her bed, listening to see if Tucker would get up and get the door. The banging continued, became louder. Huffing out a breath, she got up and stalked through the house to the front door. It better not be Gahu.
To her surprise, it was Asher. He looked rumpled and had a black eye. She blinked at him for a moment.
“Come on. Get dressed, girl. It’s time to start your tournament training.”
“What?”
“You need help, if you’re going to win the tournament. Silhon and his puppy pals attacked me last night. I gave them a through thrashing. They meant to intimidate me for standing up for you. The thing is, I paid close attention as I taught them a lesson. I know how they fight and the challenges you’ll face with them. If you want to have a prayer of surviving, you better come with me.”
Indecision wormed its way through her belly. “My brother and Gahu are trying to convince me I don’t stand a chance. I think maybe they’re right. Maybe I am crazy and should just pull my name out. They’re both on the verge of forbidding me anyway.”
“I wouldn’t think such a trivial thing would thwart you. The decision is ultimately yours. They technically can’t stop you, not according to the laws, probably because no one ever thought about the possibility… Anyway, will you at least give me today? Let’s see what you can do. I swear, by the end of the day, I will give my honest opinion if you have a chance of winning or not. I will tell you the whole, brutal truth.”
She bit down on her bottom lip as she mulled it over. Excitement began building in her at the thought of training.
“Why do you want to help me? I mean, I appreciate your support, but really, why?”
“Well, ultimately, I want to see you win so you can make things better for the women. We’ve been so closed off and well, you know. I think the pack needs a mother, not another vicious male.”
“Mother?” Sabra frowned.
He smiled. “I know you’re not an actual mother yet. But you can still be a mother to your people.”
“Interesting.”
“So are you coming with me or not?” he demanded.
“I’ll be ready in a minute.”
Sabra followed Asher. He led her away from the Lair, all the way to the dead area that used to be the shifter colony. She stopped short on the edge, not wanting to step foot on the still blackened ground. There were no remains of the shifters who died there, but there were still the charred skeletons of their homes.
Asher turned and looked at her when she stopped walking.
“Find your spine, girl,” he ordered roughly. “This is the best place for you to train because no one wants to come here. You will have privacy.” When she didn’t move, he pushed. “You spoke of honoring those who died here. Do you think Silhon will do a damn thing for the shifters if he wins?”
Sabra shook her head slowly. “No.”
She took a deep breath and stepped onto the blackened ground.
“Good,” he said. “Don’t shut it out. Look at it. Think of them. Remember them. Let their blood convict you. Fight for them as well as the pack.”
She nodded. “Yes…I will.”
“Okay, first thing. Do you know the rules of the tournament?”
“No,” she admitted. “Except that it is a fight to the death. I only just learned that. I didn’t know when I announced that I would be fighting.”
He smiled approvingly. “And you’re still here. You haven’t withdrawn. So, yes, in order to advance in the tournament, you have to kill your opponents. That is the way it has always been done. You are allowed two weapons. Usually contenders will have a large weapo
n and then a smaller fall back, like a knife. This isn’t really fair, because if you favor the sword, that doesn’t mean your opponent has to use a sword as well. You might face a bow and arrow, or a mace. I didn’t know what you might favor, so I put a selection of weapons here last night, for you to try… Have you done much weapons training?”
“No. Not much. A little with the staff,” she admitted.
“The staff is good choice, because it is out of style. Those puppies you’ll be facing will choose their weapons for flash.”
“Gahu is fighting, too,” she cut in.
“Hmm… That’s not good. Are you prepared to kill him? Do you have feelings?”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel much, but I don’t want to face off with him either.”
“You should try to convince him to pull his name out. The two of you against each other is no good any way you slice it. He’s a strong fighter, but I don’t think he’d be able to force himself to hurt you. His feelings are probably stronger than yours. Even if he doesn’t love you, you’re his woman, so his instinct is to protect you…” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “This is no good at all.”
“Let’s get started. I can think about this later.”
“All right.”
Asher gathered an armload of weapons from inside one of the ruined homes and laid them out for her. She looked down the row, thinking strategically, or trying to. Short swords, a broad sword, a mace, a staff, a crossbow, a regular bow, a club, various knives, and then…an old worn leather whip.
Sabra picked it up, a rush going through her as she ran her fingers over the braided coil. She’d never held a whip before, or even seen anyone use one. She gripped the handle, the thong falling loose next to her feet. She looked over at Asher.
He smiled. “Interesting choice. I can see you’re already quite taken with it. It’s honestly not a great option because it’s very difficult to land a serious blow with a whip. Painful, and loud, sure, and it has a terror element that exceeds its capabilities, but—“
“But you said I can have two weapons. This adds intimidation and surprise, right? Who will expect me to show up in the ring, brandishing a whip?”
He smirked. “Okay. You might be right. I’ll teach you. But you better pick a more deadly weapon for your second choice.”
“I’ll use a sword as my second.”
She moved her wrist side to side, the end of the whip moving like a snake. She experimented, rolling her wrist, then carefully at first, she brought her arm over her head and swung out in a long arch across her body. She watched the reaction, knowing exactly where and how the whip would move and land before it did. She easily understood the physics of it. Something about it clicked with her. She had an innate, instant and intimate connection with the weapon. It was an extension of her.
Asher smiled. “Nice,” he said appreciatively. “Now bring it up and let it fall behind you, keeping your hand level with your temple.” He walked over, moving her elbow. “Always pause. Make sure the whip has touched the ground, or you might take your ear off. Now bring your arm straight down, easily. You don’t need force on the down swing. Put more force into the upswing.”
She nodded, and he backed away. She let her arm fall, so she could experience the full motion from the beginning, without his maneuvering her position. Up and over it went. The second she felt it touch the ground, she brought her arm down. The whip came back over and cracked.
“HA!” she exclaimed.
“Very good. That’s a basic crack, useful for intimidation.”
Excited, she cracked it three times in a row, already imagining how she could move it better, crack it louder, or in a more stylized way. She thought about how she could make it strike out at a target and split it open. Without asking permission to try, she took a step forward, turning in a graceful circle, bringing her arm up, mid turn, rolling her wrist, and snapping it. The whip rolled through the air, and cut through the charred wood beam of the closest roof.
Elated she looked to Asher. His eyes were wide. He blew out a breath. “I don’t know if that was a display of natural talent, or just dumb luck… Do you know what you just did? Could you do it again?”
“Easy. I just imagined it before I did it.”
He crossed his arms. “All right, showoff. Show me again, and I’ll believe you.”
She looked back at the remains of the burned house and picked a roof beam on the other side of the house. She felt her heart accelerate in excitement. Again she stepped forward and spun in a circle, bringing her arm up and rolling her wrist, but she missed her target. The whip struck six inches lower than she intended. The end hit the stone of the wall instead. Crumbled mortar and dust flew into the air off the wall. She swore loudly, disappointed.
“Don’t let that get you down,” Asher coached. “You were close… So perhaps you’re a mix of natural talent and luck. Still damn impressive.”
She sighed.
“Come on. You’ll have plenty of time to practice. Now put that down. Let’s see how much strength you’ve got hand to hand.”
She placed the whip on the ground next to the other weapons. “Wait. Can I fight in beast form? Is that against the rules?”
“It’s not against the rules, but most choose not to because it’s damn near impossible to handle weapons when your hands are stretched like that. The deadly strength we have in beast form is all well and good against the other races, but it’s fairly even when we fight each other. Plus, your opponent isn’t going to give you the few seconds it takes to shift. As soon as you begin the shift, it’ll be over.”
He rushed at her then. She stepped out of the way. He turned and came at her again. This time she turned her torso and slammed into him with her shoulder. He grunted as she elbowed him in the solar plexus. He grabbed her by both arms and swept her feet out from under her. She landed hard on the ground. She made to get up, but he held her down.
“This isn’t a friendly game, Sabra. Give me everything you’ve got. No rules now. Any hits are legal. Show me how you would kill me.”
She kneed him in the groin. His face blanched, but he didn’t let go. She rolled to her stomach then brought her head up fast enough to crack him in the face. He backed off then, swearing. She launched at him, getting her arm in a choke around his neck. He fell backward, slamming her between his body and the ground, winding her and breaking one of her ribs.
Sabra croaked a gasp and looked up at him from the ground. She moaned and held her hands up in surrender. He sighed and reached down to help her up. She kicked out, just as he had, knocking his feet out from under him and jumping onto his chest. She slammed her fist as best she could into his face before grabbing him by the throat and choking him.
He reached up with one hand and tapped her twice on the shoulder. She let go and darted away in case it was a ruse. Her broken rib ground together. She clenched her teeth against the pain, determined to ignore it.
He sat up, coughing loudly. “Good. Very good,” he rasped. “You tricked me. I like that. You may need to use deception in the tournament as well. Play the weak woman card.”
He got to his feet. She still didn’t drop her defensive stance. He smiled, wiping dirt from his backside. “Easy now. I’m not going to spring on you again. Not without warning first, at least not today.”
She relaxed and hissed as her broken bone moved. “You broke my rib.”
“You crushed my larynx,” he countered.
“So, how did I do? You promised brutal truth.”
“Better than I expected. With a bit more skill, you should fair just fine hand-to-hand. Your opponents aren’t going to expect your strength or viciousness. You move fast. That being said, you still won’t have the same level of brute strength because you’re female. Don’t jump down my throat for that, it’s a fact of life. Just as you aren’t disadvantaged by having your genitals as an easy target. Dirty move, by the way.”
“Sorry,” she said lightly.
“No you’re not, no
r should you be. Any chance you get to crush someone’s nuts in the tournament, you better take it. Hear me?”
She nodded. “So what now?”
He looked up at the sky. “You better go home before someone notices you’re missing. I want you to build up your body. Strength training every day. Get enough sleep at night. Focus on your health. Don’t tell anyone about what we’re doing and where we are. We’ve got three months to get you ready. I’ll expect you back here two hours before dawn tomorrow. Got it?”
“Yes…Asher?”
“What?”
“Thank you.”
He waved her thanks away dismissively. She turned to leave but stopped next to the row of weapons on the ground. She picked up the whip and glanced back at him.
He scowled and shook his head. “Leave it here. You don’t want to risk losing the element of surprise if someone sees you with it.”
Ruefully, she set it back down. “You’re right.”
Sabra walked slowly back home, trying to not move her upper body much, so as not to grind the rib anymore. She couldn’t go totally unnoticed as she came into the main entrance of the Lair. Those standing guard didn’t harass her or talk to her at all as she passed.
Tucker was still asleep when she slunk into the house. She breathed a sigh of relief and crept to her room. Her side stabbed terribly every time she breathed. She lay down on her bed and tried to relax, but she was buzzing. She was physically tired, not from fighting, but from lack of sleep. She closed her eyes and imagined the black wolf again. He had prevented her from sleeping most of the night. Her body was still humming after she came home from running with him, but then he ran through her dreams, the moonlight on his shadowy pelt. His emerald eyes on her. I see you…I know you…a deep voice whispered in her dreams.
Who was he? Would she ever see him again? Where would he be?
There was no way she could forget him. He was too deep inside her already. Even if she never saw him again she would remember him for the rest of her life. The idea that she’d never see him again felt desolately tragic. What she’d felt with him, could she ever feel anything like that with someone else? She seriously doubted it.
