by Claire Ryann
Copyright © 2016 Claire Ryann
All rights reserved worldwide
No part of this book may be reproduced, uploaded to the Internet, or copied without permission from the author. The author respectfully asks that you please support artistic expression and help promote anti-piracy efforts by purchasing a copy of this book at the authorized online outlets.
This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood related.
Senseless Fate
Cascade Storms book 2
by
Claire Ryann
Although Senseless Fate is a complete story with no cliffhangers, it is part of the Cascade Storms series and will be more enjoyable if read after A Pack Divided.
If you would like to read more of Claire's work or sign up for her mailing list by visiting her website at www.claireryann.com
or follow her on Amazon.
1
Kara crashed past another tree limb. One of the stupid branches that hung down from the pine trees, heavy from snow so it made them hang right in front of her face. She swung her arm against it and moved it out of the way sending snow crashing to the ground with a wet sloshy noise.
What had she been thinking? This was the absolute worst time of the year to be doing this!
She shoved a mittened hand into the big pocket of her jacket and pulled out the GPS unit that had been sent to her. It showed her as a small arrow moving along a predetermined path on a map. At least she was still on track.
She had crossed the border and was officially in the US now. That was easier than she'd expected. No border crossings, no one asking for ID or passports or demanding to know where she was going and when she intended to go back.
Of course, that was the whole point. Walk away without any witnesses and hike cross-country through the mountains in a place where no one would notice during the time of year when no one was likely to see her.
All she had to do was make another 6 miles and she'd be on the road where a car was waiting for her to drive the rest of the way. There would be new ID in the car, new credit cards, new clothes, American money, and a file of papers telling her who she was and where she was going.
6. More. Miles.
Kara gave the GPS another look and slipped it back in her pocket.
She stopped to grab a snack, letting her pack slip off her shoulder onto a snow-covered boulder. Rummaging through what was left of her food, her fingers emerged clutching a Hershey bar rather triumphantly.
It had taken a couple more days to cross the mountains than had been anticipated. When the plans had been finalized they hadn't expected the series of storms that was ripping across the northern Cascades. Kara was equipped to deal with the hike, she'd been secretly training for it for months. She had good people on her side and they had filled her pack with gear that was plenty appropriate for getting through her journey safely. It was just that after getting caught out for an extra night, her food bag was down to a handful of trail mix, a couple of pieces of beef jerky, and this glorious chocolate bar.
Kara brushed the snow off the rock and exchanged the pack for her butt.
She felt free already. Even though she still had a long way left to go, even after she made it out of the mountains.
Noise behind her pricked the hair on the back of her neck. She spun around, desperately hoping to see a grizzly bear with its eye on her candy.
Shit. No, no, no! It wasn't possible!
Kara jumped up from the rock and looked for a place to hide. It was too late, the man had already seen her.
Kara's heart shrank at the sight of him. He was huge, at least 6 foot 5. He had a solid build, his shoulders wide, his chest broad, his biceps the size of basketballs and that was in the relaxed posture he was sporting as he walked casually through the snow. He looked exactly like one of Anthony's goons.
He looked up and his eyes met hers. Kara expected the man to pull out a gun.
No.
Anthony wasn't likely to let her go that easily.
She braced herself for the impact. No doubt the guy was going to grab her and drag her all the way back to Vancouver. Literally.
The guy coming toward her didn't break into a run though. He didn't pull any sort of weapon, he didn't even pull out a satellite phone.
He gave her an understandably odd look and a timid grin.
"Hey," he called from about 10 meters.
Feet. Kara reminded herself, you're an American now, think in feet.
40 feet, the man was still walking toward her. His voice was deep, but not dark. It had an easy going tone to it with a touch of trouble.
Kara was suddenly very sure he wasn't one of Anthony's men. This guy seemed too surprised to see her out here, and maybe a little lost himself.
"You hiking?" he asked as he reached her. His eyes went to her pack and the tall snow boots she was wearing.
"Um, yeah," Kara realized that's exactly what she was doing. If anyone asked, she was supposed to be just some nature freak nutjob who liked traipsing through the backcountry off trail in several feet of snow. It blew her mind to think there were really people who did that without any ulterior motives, "hiking." She nodded her head enthusiastically as if that made it more believable.
The guy smiled. Up close she could see that he was more than just a walking wall of muscle. He was actually quite handsome. Or, he would be, if he didn't look like he'd just been in a bar fight.
His hair was brown, the scruff on his chin was dark, his eyes were a dark shade of velvety brown. His features were overall pretty ordinary but they came together in a way that took her breath away, even with the bloody nose and the cut lip.
"Me too, I guess," he smiled, a little crookedly no doubt to avoid tearing the cut on his lip any further. "You headed that way?" He asked with a vague gesture in the general direction they were facing.
Worry coiled in Kara's gut. She wasn't supposed to come across anyone on this route. It was only 6 more miles but that was a long time to walk next to someone. Long enough to memorize a lot of details. The kind of details that could jog someone's memory when they saw her picture on the news.
Kara was about tell him she was headed north. Or east. Or anywhere other than the way he seemed to be headed. Even if it meant spending another night out here without enough calories to keep her marching toward her destination the next day. She couldn't risk this guy remembering her once he got back to civilization.
It was really important that no one remembered seeing her.
Then she saw his hand. It was covered in so much blood she couldn't tell how bad the cut in the middle of it was. He saw her looking and he held it up with a weak grimace.
"Looks way worse than it is, I promise," he said.
Now she noticed the nasal tone to his voice too. She squinted up at him.
He shyly nodded in acknowledgment of her suspicions, "Yeah," he lightly touched the purplish discoloration on his face beside his nose with his good hand, "I think it's broke."
Kara started to ask questions and promptly reminded herself to shut her trap. Whatever his deal was it wasn't her business and she sure as hell couldn't afford to let him think she owed him any answers of her own.
"Mind if I tag along? You look like you know which way is up," he nodded at the GPS unit that she'd clipped to her pack, "I, uh, kinda don't remember whi
ch way I was headed."
He sounded embarrassed about it, which was really cute, but he also sounded slightly worried as he looked around.
Dammit, Kara thought as she offered him a weak grin, using her mouth full of chocolate as an excuse for not answering while she stalled for time. Whatever this dude was doing out here by himself in the woods, it was obvious that he needed a little help. He was out here in jeans and a flannel shirt. He might not look cold right now, but all those muscles weren't going to keep him warm and dry if he got stuck out here overnight.
Kara caught herself thinking that those muscles were welcome to keep her warm and dry. Shut up, she told her brain, now is not the time. Maybe you can think about stuff like that when you're safe.
Her heart beat a warning signal but it was too late, "Yeah, OK," she heard herself telling the guy, "should only be a few more miles till the road."
2
Lowell wasn't sure how he'd gotten turned around. The fight had been quick with Rek and Mingan taking Sandalius down quickly before he had a chance to put his followers in position. From there it had been easy.
He remembered being chased down a ravine, the other wolf getting a jaw locked on his front paw when he'd turned to face off. He'd taken a hit to the head during his shift as he turned and clobbering the other wolf with his fist. This was the problem with a shifter fight, it meant anticipating moves as well as possible injuries from both human and creature.
Lowell had won that round, sending the other wolf fleeing back to his comrades, but it had left Lowell separated from his team with a nasty bump on his head, a broken nose, and a hole through his hand. He was down a pretty rough incline that he needed all fours for but with a damaged front paw, 3 was all he had. So he'd settled for just the 2 human feet and headed down the bottom of the snowy ravine expecting to find an easier way out.
Instead, he ended up far from where he'd left his friends. The sounds of the fight had faded behind him as he'd hiked and now he didn't know if that fight was over or if he simply couldn't hear them anymore.
By the time he was back on level ground, he'd lost track of which way was home. Which worried him. A lot. It meant that not only was his wolf's keen sense of smell on the blink, but that he probably had a concussion or maybe some inner ear damage from the knock on the head and since the injuries had been sustained in a fight with another were, it was likely to take longer to heal than he wanted to think about.
He was pretty sure he was headed south, down the face of the ridge that bordered the den to the south and he ought to meet up with the narrow mountain pass road that ran forgotten just beyond the next ridge.
Once he hit the road he figured he could hike back to the highway that would eventually loop around and get him back home. Even the old highway was pretty deserted, especially this time of year, but if he was lucky he might be able to flag down some daring nomad who was intent on seeing America's lost back roads.
He was eager to get back home. He knew his Alpha's worst opponent had been removed from the equation. A pang of guilt washed through him at the thought that one of their elders had fallen at the hands of his own pack mates. It wasn't supposed to be that way.
Pack mates also weren't supposed to fear for the safety of their mates. Not from their own family. To hunt a pack member's mate was unthinkable, to hunt the Alpha's mate? Sacrilege.
Lowell hadn't even had a chance to meet his new den mother before she'd been killed by his own kin.
The fleeting image of Ruelle's cruel wolf snarling in defense of its kill, the bloody corpse of the Alpha's human mate lying limp in the snow just before Lowell and the other wolf had gone tumbling into the ravine burned in his memory.
Daelan had anticipated opposition, he hadn't been prepared for how far his detractors would take it.
As Lowell walked, a million thoughts spun through his already dizzy brain. Daelan was the first pack member to find a human mate in over 12 centuries. That had already stirred up a lot of talk in the den, but what Lowell wanted to know-- what all the unmated wolves wanted to know-- was what did this mean for them?
Mating had been in hiatus until the Alpha settled down. It wasn't something that they did on purpose, it just tended to happen that way. So once Daelan found his mate, that should have opened up new possibilities for Lowell and the other unmated wolves of the pack.
But if Haley was dead. Lowell cringed at the thought, for his friend's loss, and for the pack's loss, but what did it mean for him? Did this reset the clock? Would they have to wait until their Alpha found a new mate?
These were the thoughts that clouded Lowell's mind as he trudged along the river bank on his way-- hopefully-- toward the road. The sun in the far right side of the sky told him he was headed south. Which was good. North would have taken him over 2 more mountain ridges and landed him on the other side of the Canadian border.
A hundred years ago, when he was a younger man, that would have mattered less. Now there were more roads and more border crossings and more hassle for a werewolf without a passport.
South. He looked at the sun and the mountains around him and nodded. Yeah, pretty sure he was headed in the right direction.
He saw her first. The woman was sitting on the rock just a few yards ahead of him. He lifted his nose and sniffed the air. Frustrating. He was so used to relying on his sense of smell, finding another soul within sight without being prepared for it caught him off guard.
Her hands moved in a gesture that he was sure he should recognize. He watched her carefully as he approached her slowly.
Dammit, his hearing was off too. She had a candy bar in her hand. Lowell sniffed again and cursed under his breath. He should have been able to smell the damn chocolate from 100 yards back but from where he was now, he should have been able to hear the crisp crinkle of the wrapper as she tore it away from the candy.
"Hey!" He called out so he wouldn't startle her.
She looked surprised to see him. He couldn't blame her, he was surprised to see her too. He looked around, there didn't seem to be anyone else out here with her, although how the fuck was he supposed to be able to tell with a busted nose and no sense of smell? She was bundled up in some serious snow gear, obviously prepared for hiking through the mountains this time of year. A small backpack was on the ground beside her. Smaller than most hikers that braved the mountains this time of year, but big enough to convince him that she had gear with her. A GPS device hung from her pack strap. He decided she probably wasn't a day hiker that had gotten lost.
She had a fleece beanie cap on that was pulled down so that it covered her ears and most of the raven black hair that peeked out in wisps around her face. Her jacket was a puffy cloud of nylon-encased down around her that hid any shape she might have.
Lowell stopped in his tracks, watching the woman's pale skin go ashen. The sudden drain of coloring made the bright pink coloring on her cheeks stand out, making her look slightly cartoonish-- or like she'd been slapped hard across both cheeks.
No. That was because of the look of abject terror marring her perfect features.
Lowell's wolf immediately came to. It was on the alert for danger, confused by the lack of scent it sensed.
No, that wasn't exactly right either, he realized. His wolf was specifically looking for whatever threatened this woman. Lowell cast a glance around, cursing his missing senses. It only took him a second to realize she was looking at him.
He felt his wolf whimper and he agreed with the animal. It felt like a dagger through his heart to have this beauty look at him like this. The whites of her eyes showing around the beautiful violet irises, the vibrant red of her plump lips open as if she was fighting to scream.
She looked like fucking Snow White and suddenly all Lowell could think of was fucking Snow White.
He didn't need his sense of smell to know she was scared of him and for a variety of reasons-- none of which, he told himself, were because of how perfect her mouth would look around his cock-- he really didn't want
her to be scared of him.
A friendly greeting and some slow movements and he watched her relax. Her lips curved into a smile and the thick black lashes lifted at the corners with her eyes.
Up close he could tell that her eyes weren't as purple as they looked from farther back. They were more like several shades of intense blue that he found absolutely hypnotic.
Lowell tore his gaze off her face and made small talk, all the while thinking about how his gaze was the only thing he didn't want to tear off of her.
She was headed out to the road in the same direction as himself and she'd agreed to let him tag along on her hike. If his luck held out, he'd be able hitch a ride with her-- and maybe from her-- and that thought was good enough that he stopped worrying about his broken nose for a while.
3
What do I say? Kara's thoughts scrambled to come up with something. Her new identity was waiting for her in an envelope in the car at the end of this hike. She didn't even know her new name yet. It seemed like a really bad idea to make something up. It also seemed dangerous to give him her real name. Her old name, she reminded herself. Kara stuttered while the man's question hung in the air.
"K-k-kara," she heard herself saying. Damn, she wasn't going to give him her real name. She was starting to worry that she wasn't going to be able to pull this off after all but she'd done OK up till she ran into mysterious lumberjack dude with the broken nose.
Kara looked up at his face again and then nodded at the bloody hand he was holding carefully against his chest. She tried not to get distracted by his chest. It didn't work. His chest was really distracting.
"So what happened to you?" she asked in her best trying-to-sound-totally-casual voice.
"Oh," he looked down at his hand and uncurled the fingers so that the gash across his palm was plainly visible, "I, uh, fell down."
Kara gave him a doubtful look. She knew when someone didn't want to talk about something, she'd "fallen down" plenty of times herself.
