by Jaci Burton
Climb a tree. That’s what she’d do. She’d be safe up there because wolves couldn’t climb trees. Could they? Hell, she didn’t know. She stopped at one she thought had a low enough branch, but her shoes were covered in slick mud up to her ankles and she couldn’t get a foothold. The bark was slick on one, and when she tried another, the trunk wasn’t stable enough to hold her. Dammit, she didn’t have time to try and climb every goddamn tree in the woods!
She fumbled in the darkness, tripping over limbs and rocks, the dense trees and bushes scraping her arms and legs as she pushed by them. She knew she bled, felt the scratches like needle sticks in her skin, but kept moving, hoping like hell she wouldn’t run straight into a bayou.
Maybe the water would keep them away. Did wolves fear water? She didn’t know, and wished right now that she’d spent more time watching those nature shows on television.
A burning pain seared her chest as she struggled for breath, panic quickly overtaking her. The wolves were gaining, although she had a gut feeling they could have jumped her by now if they’d wanted to. Didn’t they run faster than humans or something? It wasn’t like she was sprinting at top speed here. Were they toying with her? Was this some kind of game to wear her out and make her an easier target when they tired of chasing her?
Thoughts of Max entered her mind. How close was the house? She couldn’t see a damn thing in the darkness, spotted no lights to guide her way. Where was he? Did he know she was gone yet? Would he come searching for her?
Oh, God. If he did, he’d drive down the road, never thinking she’d entered the forested area. Why would she? He’d think she meant to go home. He’d figure exactly what her plan had been and would drive to the store to look for her. How stupid was she? So desperate to escape him, she’d foolishly set out on foot in an area unfamiliar to her. She deserved her fate.
A sick feeling of impending doom swept over her, and she fought the tears that welled and spilled over her cheeks. She didn’t want to die out here. Not like this. Not torn apart by these savage creatures.
Max, where are you? I need you. Help me!
* * * * *
Max slipped on a pair of shorts and went in search of Shannon. Maybe she’d gone downstairs to fix something to eat.
Knowing her, she was pissed off and pacing in the kitchen, waiting for him to come down so she could lay into him for suggesting she move in with him.
Okay, maybe he’d blurted. Not his smoothest move, that was for sure.
He had to calm her down, make her see reason.
It was time to tell her everything, explain why she had to be with him. He ran his fingers through his still-damp hair, damning himself for being so caveman-like in telling her how things were going to be between them, instead of discussing who and what he was, then asking her to move in.
Me big, strong man. Me tell woman what to do. Fucking Neanderthal.
He groaned and stepped into the dark kitchen, realizing immediately that something was up.
And that something was not good.
Sniffing the air, he smelled danger, knew instinctively that Shannon was no longer on the premises. The hair on his arms and legs stood on end, and chills popped goose bumps on his skin.
Shannon was in trouble. Big trouble.
He picked up her scent immediately. Not just hers, either, but others, and in close proximity.
Wolves.
“Shit!” He tore out the back door and into the woods, ignoring the burning pain of his body changing as he made the dash across the lawn. By the time he reached the woods, he was fully wolf and ripping through the trees and bushes, hoping he wasn’t going to be too late.
It was easy to track Shannon. He could pick up her scent from miles away. He also knew she was panicked, afraid, and quickly running out of energy.
Not that it mattered. They stalked her slowly, enjoying the game. He knew their kind, toying with humans, making a game of terrorizing them, getting off on their fear.
He also knew they wanted her because they smelled him on her, recognized what he was and weren’t happy about a new alpha in their midst. They wanted to take her, to put their mark on her, to claim her.
Over his dead body. No fucking way would any of them lay a paw on her.
Granted, this wasn’t the way he’d wanted to draw them out of hiding. Not using Shannon as prey. Because he knew they didn’t care what happened to her. The only reason they were doing this is because they knew if she was in danger he’d come running, and they thought they could beat him down this way.
Max didn’t know who the members of this pack were, but he’d bet they’d never met a Devlin wolf before.
This was his territory now, and Shannon was his mate. He’d take on a dozen of them if need be. When he was finished, they’d know a new alpha was in town, and meant to take over.
She hadn’t gone far, thankfully. He stopped about twenty yards in front of her and let out a howl, announcing his arrival to the others. He sensed their fury, their blood thirst, but he felt no fear for himself, only for Shannon.
Now that he spotted her, he felt a measure of relief. She was cut and bloody, but it looked more like branches had done the damage. The wolves hadn’t touched her. They could have torn her to pieces in seconds, but they hadn’t. He might let them live because of that.
He’d been aching for a fight for a long time, and as he scented their locations, knew this one would be bloody.
He welcomed it. They’d crossed the line when they targeted his woman. He’d either take over the pack or kill them all. Either way, he knew who’d come out the winner tonight.
* * * * *
Shannon stopped and leaned over, resting her hands on her knees, not caring if they attacked her or not. She couldn’t breathe. The run, along with fighting her ever-increasing fear, had stolen every ounce of energy she possessed. Her adrenaline rush had passed and right now she just wanted to lie down.
But she couldn’t. She leaned halfway up, resting her hand against the bark of a tree for support. The incessant growling grew louder, and she felt a calm peacefulness overcome her, as if she finally accepted her fate.
There was no way she could get out of the woods. But she refused to stand there and let them take her. She’d die, but she’d die running for freedom.
But then she heard a sound ahead of her now, as angry a growl as she’d heard before. Coming toward her, slowly. The sound grew louder and she stilled, praying for invisibility but knowing that it wouldn’t matter. They scented her. That much she knew. Wolves hearing and scent were heightened, much more so than a human.
So she waited, watching its glowing eyes as it appeared before her. She met its gaze head on, refusing to look away, refusing to show weakness.
The wolf stopped in front of her. She was sweating now, her body drenched, her heart slamming against her ribs, her legs trembling from fear and exhaustion.
She could barely stand as it stopped a mere inches from her, its teeth bared, a low growl rumbling in its throat.
Lord it was a beautiful animal, though. Even though she feared it, she admired its strength, the gray and white fur that covered strong legs and body. And it was much bigger than she’d ever known wolves to be.
Then it shocked the hell out her. It winked. She blinked, surely delusional in her panicked state. But when it walked around her and behind her, she didn’t know what to think. Why hadn’t it attacked her?
Slowly, she turned to follow it, her heart lodging in her throat as she realized that at least six wolves were behind her in a semi-circle.
The gray one that had winked stood in front of them, snarling, saliva dripping from between its teeth. She backed away and stood to the side of all of them, not enough that they thought she’d run because one of the six watched her.
It seemed as if the big gray was communicating in some way to the others, because after it growled, the others did too.
She was afraid to move at all, but took small steps backward, sensing that something
was about to happen between the gray wolf and the other, darker ones.
The gray took a few steps forward, ignoring the warning snarls of the others, and entered their circle. The strange thing was, she felt concern for the gray. Maybe because it hadn’t attacked her. Stupid, she knew, but she really didn’t know what to think about what was happening right now. She should take the opportunity to run, but with so many wolves around her, she was afraid if she moved, one would pounce on her. So she stayed put and watched.
They circled each other, moving counter-clockwise, their glowing golden eyes the only thing moving in the dark woods. The six wolves advanced slowly, closing the circle and drawing nearer to the gray.
Shannon shrieked and jumped back when the gray leaped on the center wolves. Then they all fell on him, snarling and growling as the battle ensued.
The tangle of fur on fur made it impossible to determine what was happening. She wished for the clouds to dissipate so she could see how the gray was faring, but it was all she could do to hold back the fierce storm.
They were all engaged. She should turn and run, head back to the road and return to Max’s. Anywhere but here.
But her feet were frozen to the ground. She couldn’t make them move, couldn’t turn her eyes away from the carnage in front of her. Whimpering yelps emitted from the center of the fray, but she didn’t know which wolf or how many of them were injured. The growls grew louder, more fierce, splitting the air with the angry sounds of their battle. And all the while she watched. Stupidly stood there and watched.
Suddenly, two of the dark wolves retreated, hovering outside the center of the circle. Soon, two more retreated, and then the other two. They stayed in the circle, moving around the gray, still baring their now bloodstained teeth, still emitting low rumbles from their throats.
They all wore marks, all of them bloody, including the gray, who looked as if he’d taken the brunt of the fight. His fur was torn away in spots, angry bloodstained gouges in his skin.
But the six retreated, their ears back, their tails between their legs.
The gray was the only one left. He lifted his snout to the air and howled, the sound echoing through the near-silent woods.
He turned to her, his fangs gleaming in the darkness, dripping with the blood of the others. As he advanced toward her, Shannon realized at that moment that she should have run when she had the chance.
Now that he’d driven the others off, he was coming for her.
Chapter Twelve
Shannon held her breath as the wolf limped toward her, its beautiful fur a bloody, matted mess.
But she was certain he could still easily tear her apart. Oh, why hadn’t she run when she’d had the chance? What in the world possessed her to stick around? Why had she stood there immobile as if she felt like she needed to stay?
Then again, for some strange reason, this wolf had saved her life. She knew it to be so, despite everything she knew about wild creatures. He’d have had no reason to spare her, in fact should have joined with the others in stalking her, but he hadn’t. He’d approached, if she could believe her eyes—winked—then walked around her to attack the other wolves.
Maybe that’s why she stayed. Maybe there was something different about this one.
The wolf stopped, no more than a foot from where she stood. He raised his head, looking at her, his eyes filled with pain, mouth open as it panted heavily.
She tensed, poised to once again take off in a run if the wolf leaped at her. She might not get far, but it was better than just standing around like a target.
But he didn’t advance. Instead, he settled slowly to the ground, laid his head down and closed his eyes.
Oh, God. Was he dead? Still too afraid to get close to him, she watched and waited, mentally counting the minutes until she got to about ten. The wolf hadn’t budged, his breathing ragged as he slept.
Now. Take a step backward, then another, and get the hell out of there now! Whether it was fear or some strange compassion she felt for this lethal creature, she couldn’t. He was too big for her to drag him to the house. If she could even find the house. As it was she was close to passing out, the fear and her injuries from running through the woods taking their toll on her. At the moment she wanted nothing more than to drop to the ground and close her eyes. Exhaustion made her weave on her feet.
But if the wolf woke, then what? Would he lunge for her? Was he just resting, assuming she’d still be there when he woke?
This was ridiculous. Run! She heard the warning in her head and took a tentative step backward, her feet crunching on a tree limb. The wolf woke, lifted his head up, and snarled at her. She froze to the spot, fearful of moving so much as an inch. She reached behind her and found the trunk of a tree, grabbing onto it for support, afraid she’d fall forward right on top of the wolf.
As it was, even if she ran she wasn’t sure she could get very far. The wolf, satisfied that she wasn’t moving, laid his head back down and closed his eyes.
Too tired to contemplate escape, she gave up the fight, convinced on some level that this creature would not harm her. She scooted down against the trunk of the tree, mindful of the wolf’s eyes opening and watching her warily, but he emitted no growl, even when she sat and straightened her legs, putting them precariously close to his jaws.
Sitting was heaven, her battered, stressed body and mind needing desperately to shut down for at least a few minutes. That’s what she’d do. She’d rest, just for a few minutes, until she could gain some strength. Then she’d try again to get up and make her escape.
The wolf closed its eyes again. Unable to fight it any longer, Shannon rested her head against the tree and let the darkness overtake her.
* * * * *
Max woke to screaming pain rifling through his body. Every fucking thing hurt, from his head to his paws. But he was still strong enough to make it back to the house.
Shannon slept against the tree, her head tilted sideways, her face streaked with dirt, scratches marring the exposed skin of her arms and legs.
He laid there for a few minutes, admiring his woman. She’d been stupid to head into the woods to escape the wolves. If she’d stayed on the road she might have reached the store before they attacked.
Then again, maybe not. Savage bastards. It was going to take some effort to set them straight, but he’d mastered six of them at once. They knew now that there was a new alpha on the scene. One not to be fucked with. And he’d made sure to hurt them bad enough that they clearly understood to never get anywhere near his mate again.
He should have killed them. God, he’d wanted to after seeing the look of fear on Shannon’s face, the scratches marring her skin, blood streaming down her arms.
Yeah, she’d been stupid all right, but damned brave, too. That’s what made her perfect for him. One of the things he admired about her was her staunch refusal to give up in a fight. It made their battles more difficult, but then again when had he ever backed away from a good, rousing fight?
He knew it would always be that way between them. Theirs was a passionate bond, and passion sometimes meant fighting. He wouldn’t want her any other way. If she’d been docile and agreeable, he’d never have chosen her for his mate.
To think he might have lost her tonight. His heart squeezed at the thought of never seeing her smile, never feeling her touch, never having her around to argue with.
Oh hell. He loved her!
His entire life he’d wondered what all the fuss was about when it came to love. His mother had smiled and told him when it happened, he’d know.
He sure as hell knew now. And dammit, it hurt. The need to protect her became more important now than ever before.
She could be carrying his child now for all he knew. And he’d let her slip away from him and almost get herself killed.
He’d teach her to protect herself better in the future. He’d train her in the ways of an alpha female. Maybe a trip to Boston to meet his family. His mother would set her straig
ht, make sure she knew what being an alpha female meant. How she should demand the respect due her.
But first, he needed to get her back to the house. He shifted into human form despite the pain he knew he’d be in when his injures became human injuries. But they would heal soon enough.
Scooping an unconscious Shannon into his arms, he made the trek toward the house. It was only about a mile or so away. Not easy on bare human feet, but he’d manage.
Dawn would break soon, the soft gray light already filtering through the clouds that had hung low and black over the sky most of the night.
God, his body hurt. At least the bleeding had stopped, but the open gashes hurt like hell. Some of the bites had gone clear through to the bone, and his skin hung in shreds down his upper arms, shoulders and thighs.
Shannon, thankfully, only had minor wounds. Hers wouldn’t heal like his, though. He’d have to treat them. Fortunately, she bore no marks from the other wolves. He would have had to kill any of them who touched her.
Finally, he reached the house and limped up the porch stairs, struggling to balance Shannon in his arms and open the back door.
After taking her upstairs and depositing her gently on his bed, he removed the remainder of her shredded clothing and inspected her body, noting that she at least had some color to her face. She wasn’t pale, none of the scratches had gone too deep. She was bruised in spots, but none of her bones were broken.
He got out the first aid kit and cleaned her up, bandaging the wounds that needed it and washing her up with a soft cloth. He shuddered watching her nipples bead against the moist washcloth, his cock hardening instantly as he scented her musky perfume.
God. Beat up and bloody, barely able to move his body and he could still get a raging hard-on just looking at her.
His heart swelled with such unfamiliar emotions he could barely handle them. He pulled the sheet over her still-slumbering form and went into the bathroom, shaking his head at his reflection in the mirror.
