by Marie Hall
But there was one that was in the lead—a large red wolf with a streak of black that ran straight as an arrow down his back. The other two wolves walked slightly behind their leader, but the glares of all three were easy enough to decipher.
They were here for Lilith and they aimed to kill anything that stood in their way.
Heart beating wildly in his throat, Giles held his hand out. He had no idea if these were true wolves or shifters. He’d always assumed that there was only one alpha per pack with the true animals, and if that was the case, than these were shifters, which could make them twice as dangerous.
The doorframe shuddered violently as splinters of wood showered down on his shoulder from Lilith’s constant beating. It was holding, but for how long?
“You don’t want to do this.” Giles said it softly, attempting to soothe their beasts first.
The red wolf gave him what appeared to be a leer as it continued its predatory advance.
Lilith howled, causing the three to come up short and join in her chorus.
The red’s howl was longer and higher in frequency than the other two. Almost as though he were telling her he was a true male.
Giles clenched his fists. “You won’t get to her.”
Yellow eyes turned on him and a rumble that hinted at violence tore from the lead’s throat.
When Lilith cried again, it sounded nothing like it had a moment ago. Crazy as it might sound, it almost seemed to him as though it were full of fear.
He wasn’t sure how he understood that sound, but he was certain of it and he knew why. She’d nearly been raped by a pack just days ago; she was probably terrified of the same, of being bound to a male she’d not chosen for herself.
Giles knew nothing of shifter hierarchy and rules, but he would do whatever he must, even if it meant dying, to help her honor her choice.
They were nearly upon him now. Their hackles were raised and the air reeked of the stench of musk. They were lacing the breeze with their scent.
Her scratching picked up in intensity, the door would be shredded to ribbons soon. Needing to get her away from it, he slowly moved to the other side of the wall, knowing she would follow him around because the other wolves were following him around.
“Get away from her,” he warned one final time.
The lead wolf gave a barely perceptible flick of its head, and then it was utter chaos as all three wolves pounced on him, knocking the air from his lungs as they shoved him violently against the wall.
Lilith cried out.
If he’d not already been close to the wall they would have knocked him to the ground, negating any kind of advantage on his part.
Kicking out, Giles connected his right boot with the eye socket of the black wolf. It whimpered, sneezing and using its paw to swipe at its face. But the gray and red wolves were still on him and they were shredding into his thigh.
Roaring out in fury and pain, he hammer-fisted the gray’s head just enough to knock it back a few steps, and it shook its head as if to regain equilibrium.
The red wolf had his other fist in its mouth and was gnawing down. Giles smelled his blood, felt the shredding of his skin beneath its mandible.
He could become shadow and easily take one down, but then that would leave two others easy access to the entry, and there was no way he’d do that. No matter what she’d said, the shack was coming apart at the seams—one mighty blow or three desperate wolves would bring it down and put her directly at their mercy. He wouldn’t take that chance.
“You don’t want to do this!” he barked, knowing the wolves were leaving him no choice.
But the other two wolves were back and they latched on to the toes of his boots. Breathing heavy, Giles twisted his body in such a way as to use the red wolf’s momentum against itself and tossed it to the ground.
The moment he did the other two wolves immediately backed off. Kneeling on the red’s soft belly, he shoved his uninjured palm into the red’s throat. “Leave now, or I’ll kill him.”
Giles swallowed the bile on the back of his tongue. His injuries were beginning to throb mercilessly, his head was dizzy, and his body trembling from adrenaline and shock. Deep down he understood the wolves were slave to her siren’s call as she was to the moon. He didn’t want to kill them. But he would if it came down to it.
The other two wolves looked at their leader.
Giles rammed his hand in harder. “I will do it.”
Lilith was clawing and howling desperately.
Red growled and Giles understood immediately what the wolf had done. He’d ordered them to attack.
No time for finesse, Giles willed his flame to burn. Turning his body into a fiery pillar. Anything Giles touched would burn.
His knee sank into the wolf’s middle, singeing and melting it like it was nothing more than cold butter.
The sizzling stink of flesh permeated the air. The red wolf cried out in pain, wiggling desperately out from under him. The other two wolves let out a terrified yip in tandem and bolted back toward the safety of the trees.
Giles let the red wolf limp its way off. Turning off his heat, he squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his good hand around his damaged one, leaning heavily against the tree as his head swam dizzily.
Lilith was whimpering, no longer clawing desperately at the wall, but he could hear her pacing right behind him. She was sniffing the air loudly, she’d let out a whimper, and then pace, and whimper again. Over and over.
She was probably upset that he’d chased the wolves off, but he had to try and make her understand.
“I’m sorry, Lilith,” he panted, “they can’t have you this way. You choose. Your choice. Not like this, Lilith, I’m sorry.”
She continued to pace and whine for several long minutes and then there was an eerie silence.
Adrenaline completely worn off, Giles looked at his wrist. When he’d turned to flame he’d cauterized the wound. It would no longer get infected, but it would hurt like hell until it healed.
Licking his lips, realizing he couldn’t go another round with any more shifters, he decided to do something risky. It would mean he couldn’t fall asleep for even a minute, he’d need to be vigilant, but he was one man against many. It was the only way.
Hissing, when he called down his flame—because unlike last time, there’d been no sting of fire on damaged flesh—he walked a large perimeter around the shack, setting the entire thing ablaze. He hand no sand to trap the fire inside of it, but there were plenty of large stones everywhere. It was backbreaking work to find rocks big enough to place in perfect circumference around the entirety of the ramshackle structure.
It took hours, and he was exhausted by the time he stepped back inside the circle, into the safety of its burning ward and rested his weary body against the door.
Immediately he sensed Lilith’s presence right behind it.
Giles couldn’t rest long—the flame on the outside of the circle was contained, but inside it could still crawl toward the hut. He’d have to keep an eye on it to ensure that it stayed where it should.
Just a breather, and then he’d get up.
But as he rested his head against the door, he felt the ache of his body. The burn of his injured wrist and the throbbing of his feet where the wolves had managed to puncture through the boots.
“Giles.”
He jerked at the sound of Lilith’s voice. Staring at the door, he wondered how she’d managed it. The sun was nowhere near to rising.
“Lilith?”
“Giles, let me out,” she whimpered and he could hear the tears in her words.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook his head. She’d warned him that no matter what, he needed to keep her inside. “Try to get some rest, Lilith.”
“Giles, I’m okay. Seriously. I’m okay. Let me out.”
Scooting back, he plopped his head back against the door with a thud and shook it. She sounded so normal and it would be a relief to have her out so that he could catch a few
hours of desperate sleep.
“Please don’t do this.” His voice cracked with exhaustion.
“This isn’t a trick. It’s me. Let me out. I just want to see you.” She tapped at the door so softly.
And it was as though he felt each gentle tap flutter against his soul. His fingers twitched, itching to unlock the door. He desperately wanted to believe her, but her look had been adamant, and her touch just before she’d disappeared inside—it’d felt like truth.
It’d felt like more, too. Though he didn’t know what to call it.
“Giles, please. Please.”
The last please trembled with a tear and he clenched his jaw. She beckoned as a siren would, beguiling, alluring, promising things she would not keep. The moon was still heavy in the sky, and maybe she was okay, but he couldn’t take that chance, not after what he’d already witnessed tonight.
Standing wearily to his feet, he dropped his head. “I’m sorry, Lilith,” he said before walking off to safeguard the flame.
A howl echoed behind him.
The sky was a muted shade of lavender as the sun finally broke through the clouds. Giles killed the magic of the fire and rested against the side of the shack, watching the sunrise.
She’d not lied when she’d told him he’d go through hell. Giles never wanted to go through that again. Sun finally up, he watched as a lazy yellow butterfly waltzed drunkenly past. Almost as though it were a promise of better things to come, that the nightmares were finally over.
“Giles?”
This time when she said it he knew she was really okay. It took everything he possessed to get up and unlock the door for her.
Lilith stepped out of the shack wearing the same illusion she’d worn when she’d gone in. Her dark brown skin gleamed almost prettily, as though she’d not been a wolf half the night and tearing everything up in sight, and he almost envied her. Impossible as it was, she looked rested and even lovelier than she had the day before.
She squinted into the morning light with a hand shading her eyes. When she turned to look at him, he gave her a soft smile.
“You are well.”
She nodded softly and wrapped her arms gently around his waist, resting her cheek on his chest.
“Thank you.”
His movements were stiff as he patted her back gently. “It was nothing. Should we search for food?”
“Giles.” She leaned back, her pretty lioness gaze seeming to peer right through him. There was a tenderness to her touch that he could not recall seeing before.
“What?” he asked, using his good hand to scrub at his bristled jaw.
Taking his hand, she guided him toward the shack. “You look terrible. You need to rest.”
He shook his head. “You were up as long as I was. I’m fine. We need to journey on.”
“No.” She lifted her brow and gently tugged him into the shack. “You need to sleep. You’re no good to yourself without it. Take the bed.” She pointed.
He stared into the darkness with a stunned look. Where were the slash marks? With the way she’d thrown herself into the walls, he would have figured there’d be dust and debris everywhere, holes beginning to form in the foundation. But those weren’t the first questions off his tongue.
“How is there a bed in here?”
She glanced over at the brass headboard of the modest-sized bed pushed up against the wall.
“I heard you clawing all through the night. Shouldn’t everything be shredded, torn apart? A bed?” he muttered in shock.
She chuckled. “You did not believe me when I told you this cabin was spelled?” she asked as she guided him to the mattress and forced him to sit.
“You were going to rip the door off its hinges last night—I struggled to keep it intact.” He shook his head, flummoxed by not only the sight of the bed, but the spotless floors that bore not a single scratch on its wooden face. The painted walls that looked smooth and well tended.
Planting a hand on his shoulder, she tried to force him to lie down.
“No, I’m fine.” He shrugged off her hand. Though the bed was tempting, there was no time for rest. “Really, I—”
“Giles,” she said in a firm tone, planting her hands on her hips. “You need to rest, but since you’re being so pigheaded about it, then a compromise.”
“What?”
She lifted a brow. “I hunt, and you just relax. Just for a little while. Deal?”
Lips thinning, he eyed the hand that she held out to him. “How do I know you won’t pretend to be hunting just so that I can fall asleep?” He held up his hands. “I’m really fine. I’ll go with you and we can do it together.”
“No. And that’s my final say on the matter.” Then quickly she yanked the key from his jeans pocket and, with a sugary sweet smile, turned on her heel and walked out the door, locking it behind her.
“Lilith,” he growled, getting up and going to the door immediately. He shook the handle furiously. “You can’t lock me in here.”
“Oh yes I can,” came her dulcet voice from the other side. “You need to relax and let me do the heavy lifting for a little bit. I promise I’ll be back.”
The last part was faint as he heard her footsteps walking away.
Giving the door one final kick, he muttered an oath beneath his breath and dragged his exhausted carcass over to the bed, plopping down onto it with more fatigue than he cared to admit.
“Just a rest,” he muttered, dropping a hand over his eye while keeping his injured one tight to his body.
His last thought was to wonder whether he’d actually needed to guard her as he had. Clearly she’d been far more secure than he’d ever imagined.
After that there was nothing but darkness.
Lilith couldn’t believe what she saw. The land was a charred ruin around the entirety of the shack. Grass completely withered and blackened in a perfect circle. Surrounding the scorched earth was a ring of gray rocks; everything on the other side of it was healthy and green and bursting with the early morning sounds of chirping crickets.
Glancing over her shoulder back at the cabin, she knew Giles had done it. She wasn’t sure how, but he’d definitely done it.
Her lips tipped at the corners. She’d had biannual bloomings since going through her reaping two years ago, and always they’d been the same. When the force of the full moon struck she became a raging, mindless beast who remembered nothing the next morning.
But not so last night.
She remembered everything from last night. There’d been no windows for her to peek out at him, but she’d heard Giles, felt his presence, and it’d soothed her wolf.
When the other wolves had come…she’d nearly lost her mind with fear. She’d tried throughout the night to get out to him. But the oddest part was that when she sensed he’d banished the wolves, she’d shifted back to human. She’d never done it before and it’d stumped her. Her only concern, her only desire had been to get to him, to ensure with her own eyes that he was well. But he hadn’t opened the door.
And that was when she knew she’d been fighting a losing battle of wills. She wanted the knight, desperately, and she’d take him in any way she could. Even though the thought of it brought tears to her eyes because it was never supposed to be this way.
Closing her eyes, she set the memories aside. The night was over; she would not relive the horrible sounds any longer. It was over and he’d survived it.
It was time for food. Time for her to take care of him. Though he fought her, she knew he couldn’t move without at least a little rest. He might be angry, but he’d get over it eventually.
Shedding her form, she called her wolf to her and shifted seamlessly. Shifting was painless when not gripped by moon madness. Tipping her nose in the air she scented rabbit, and somewhere off in the distance the crispness of sweet, wild crabapples.
That would make a substantial breakfast.
She ran into the woods, lost in the joy of hunting. Her senses were keen, her vision s
harp. There were times when she enjoyed being a wolf more than a human—this was one of those times.
Easily dispatching four rabbits, she dug a hole for the carcasses so that no other creature would come by and steal her kills, then headed toward the apples. Finding them several minutes later. The tree was small and didn’t hold many ripe ones, but there were five, which was more than plenty between the two of them.
Becoming a woman again, she quickly plucked them down and cradled them in her arm as she ran back to her kills. Pulling the animals out, she snapped off several sapling branches and quickly wove them into a net she could place her food into and cart with her as the wolf.
Dumping everything into it, she shifted back to her wolf and in no time was trotting back up the trail to the shack. Lilith wasn’t as skilled at building a fire from wood the way her brothers could, but given enough time she could manage it.
An hour and a half later she had two pounds’ worth of roasted rabbit. Smiling proudly, she flicked the meat onto a broad leaf that would serve as a makeshift plate and jogged up to the door, unlocking the chains.
Opening her mouth, ready to yell, “Surprise!” she quickly clamped it shut when he snored loudly.
A region of her heart trembled at the sight of it. Giles was passed out, slumbering like an old wolf. His body was completely relaxed into the bed, one of his arms was tossed over his eyes, and the other was dangling off the edge of the bed.
His lips were slightly parted, and if he didn’t watch it there’d be drool staining the pillow soon.
“And he said he wasn’t tired,” she whispered, smiling broadly.
The beauty of the shack was that it could redesign its interior to service whatever purpose the she-wolf inside needed it to be. Her magic couldn’t produce the bed; the magic itself was embedded into the very wood. But her desire could alter her surroundings.
Wishing for a nightstand to set their food upon and a larger bed, she stood back as the inner dimensions shifted yet again. A forest-green Victorian-style dresser now stood beside the bed that had stretched to accommodate not just one, but two.
