The Wolf Princess: The Wolf PrincessOne Eye Open (The Pack)

by Karen Whiddon

  “We’re here,” she said, sounding so cheerful that he once again wondered if she had something up her sleeve. Then he chided himself and his suspicious nature.

  Fumbling with the seat belt, he finally got it open and located the door handle. His wolf, already wide awake and more than ready, increased his pacing, aware release was only a matter of minutes away. The beast was chomping at the bit to be set free.

  Pushing open the door, he climbed out, stretching. The princess touched his shoulder, sending another of those strange, electric-type shocks through him.

  “Let me know if you need me to help you walk this path. There are a lot of stone and tree routes, as well as branches.”

  Once again, cause to hate his blindness. Once again, he’d learn to cope. “I think I’ll be fine. Just stay close, if you don’t mind.”

  She bumped her shoulder to his, the casual gesture of a friend. “No problem. I won’t leave your side.”

  He couldn’t help but wonder if she might be playing some elaborate game.

  She took his arm, startling him back out of his thoughts. “Careful,” she murmured, a huskiness lingering in her voice that sent yet another shiver straight down his spine. “There’s a lot of underbrush. I wouldn’t want you to fall.”

  His wolf snarled. The irony of her remark didn’t escape him. Right now he had to fight the urge to drop to all fours and let the change rip through him, clothing and decorum be damned.

  But she was a princess and he was a guest in her country. His research depended on her goodwill. Clenching his teeth, he struggled to maintain self-control. He would wait, his wolf would wait, even though the beast inside him cared nothing for human conventions and hovered near the edge.

  “I know the perfect place. It’s this way,” she said, tightening her grip on his arm. Even this, the slightest of touches, felt painful, as though his skin was raw. Another side effect from waiting so long to change? He made a mental note to investigate this, even as his wolf snarled inside him, ready to run.

  “Do you feel the ancient magic of this forest?” she asked, evidently not having had near the problem with her wolf that he was having with his. Of course not. This was the woman who couldn’t care less if she changed.

  “I—” About to tell her how urgent his need had become, he bit down on his cheek and forced himself to be silent.

  “There’s so much here,” she continued. “The scent of the pines, the damp earth, the leaves. I love the way it fills the senses. Oh, and the wildlife. The hunting is good here.” Her soft murmur invited him to quit focusing on his internal thoughts and instead, experience her forest’s wild beauty.

  If not for his wolf, he would do exactly that. Struggling, he contained the beast for a few more moments, lifted his head and inhaled.

  Scent assaulted him. Musk and moist soil and leaves. Heaven. He could almost swear he smelled sunlight, even though he knew such a thing was only wishful thinking. Underfoot, leaves whispered beneath his uneven tread and, though he technically hated the fact that he had to be led around like a blindfolded child, he was grateful for her steadying grip.

  Finally, she squeezed his biceps. “Here we are.” Letting go of his arm, she took his hand, guiding him to touch something made of boards. “There’s a large wooden box where you can store your clothes. I’ll change on the other side of the box and you can shift here. Is that all right with you?”

  If she’d said he had to change while climbing a tree, he would have done so. This, this was perfect, even if he continually felt as if she was moving in slow motion.

  Nodding, he briefly wondered if she felt awkward, especially since a blind man would become a blind wolf—a distinct liability any way she looked at it.

  She probably wondered if she’d have to hunt for him, too, but he planned to disabuse her of that notion. Even without sight, his olfactory senses were sharp enough that he could easily take down a rabbit or other small game.

  Even the thought made his mouth water. Shuddering with the effort of trying to control the change, he silently counted to three. Then, rapidly, he began shedding his clothes. This time, when the wolf surged forward, he didn’t try to hold him back.

  He barely had time to drop to all fours, the leaves rough under his hands, before his wolf burst free, forcing a change so fast it slammed into him, excruciatingly painful. A cross between a snarl and a groan escaped him as the change continued to rip through him, his bones rapidly elongating, his teeth, claws and fur appearing as though by magic. Too quickly, but he was powerless to stop it now. It had been too long coming.

  The last human thought he had was wondering if the normal swirling lights that always accompanied shape-shifting were also fast-forwarded, more of a blur than a shimmering light show.

  Finally he stood as wolf, all four paws planted firmly in the damp earth. There was another wolf here, someone both familiar and not. The princess.

  He swung his snout in her direction, using his nose to locate her whereabouts. Her scent as wolf was even more delicious than he could have imagined. His wolf was eager to explore it further.

  With a low growl he took a step forward, luxuriating in the feel of the soil beneath his paws. Fully wolf, he wanted to run, to celebrate his lupine existence. He started to leap forward, ignoring the ever-present blackness, then stopped, the dimly human part of him remembering she’d told him that they were in a heavily wooded forest.

  As wolf, he snarled, furious, irritated. He couldn’t run. Not like he needed to, full out and wild and completely free. He wanted to throw his head back and howl with frustration, well aware that he’d been too excited about the upcoming change and way too stimulated by being around her to really think things through. He should have explained that he needed a meadow.

  Spinning, he tried to find her. He scented her a half second before Alisa as wolf bumped him with her flank. Turning his head, he blinked as she touched her nose to his.

  Then she nudged him, as if to say, “run with me.” Joy leaped in his chest as he realized that if they stayed side by side, she could direct him and steer him clear of obstacles.

  He could run! For a second, human Braden hesitated to believe. Wolf Braden wanted to go all-out.

  As though she wanted to prove it, she nudged him again, then took off. He didn’t wait, leaping forward and moving with her, only a split second behind, as the path widened and became something larger. A clearing? No, a meadow.

  Side by side, they ran, their tails streaming in the wind. Braden’s wolf was savagely happy, tongue lolling from his mouth, as they finally slowed to a lope. Ah, this was living! Life the way a wolf lived it—in the moment. Now. He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin, as happy as he could ever remember being, at least since the accident. How could he have waited so long to let his wolf free? How could anyone? He’d needed this, and he owed Princess Alisa a debt of gratitude that he fully intended to repay somehow.

  The breeze tickled his fur as their lope slowed to a trot. He caught the scent of rabbit, apparently at the same time as she, because she nipped him lightly. Often considered a form of foreplay, the gentle bite, he knew in this instance, was meant to let him know they were going hunting.

  Immediately, they slowed to a walk before they quickly hunkered down. Bellies low to the ground, together they crawled forward, following the hare’s pungent scent trail. Their prey had passed by here not too long before they’d appeared. Hopefully, the smaller animal was still somewhere in the vicinity. Suddenly ravenous, Braden found his mouth watering. He hadn’t eaten freshly caught game in a long time.

  A rustle of leaves from nearby had them up, instantly alert. The rabbit, no doubt catching their scent, took off, crashing through the underbrush, fleeing.

  Heart pounding, he started forward, just as Alisa nudged him again, letting him know he couldn’t follow. He understood. In this, if she wanted a prayer of catching their snack, she had to go it alone. She leapt forward, taking off in full-out pursuit, while he was forced to remain behi
nd.

  Unhappy, he panted and waited. He did not like this, not at all. But even as wolf, he knew he had no choice. In the hunt, at least here in this forest, his lack of sight was too much of a liability. If she’d tried to guide him and keep him with her, he would only hinder the success of her hunt.

  Her hunt. This went against all the laws of nature, of his kind. While male and females often hunted in pairs, he knew of no male who sat on his haunches and waited for his female to bring him food.

  But because, hampered by his blindness, he could do nothing else, he waited, exploring only the immediate area until she returned.

  Luck was on his side that day. Leaves crashing told him the pursuit had turned back in his direction. As luck would have it, the terrified rabbit reversed course and blundered right into his clearing. Right into him, as though the space between his paws represented a safe haven.

  Hah! Not so. One jump and a snap of his powerful jaws and he had it. The rabbit squealed as it died. A moment later his mouth filled with its blood, warm and fresh and delicious.

  A second later, still in hot pursuit, Alisa ran up, panting. Startled, he dropped the dead rabbit at her feet, letting her have first choice of meat even though he’d made the kill. Common courtesy, for all she’d done for him.

  Also, the behavior of a mate.

  The instant the thought occurred to him, he reconsidered, but it was too late. Apparently as ravenous as he, she snatched up the prize, tearing into it. The sounds of her obvious enjoyment made his mouth water and he had to restrain himself from snatching what was left of the meat away from her.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she touched her nose to his, letting him taste the coppery blood. The rest of the meat was his for the taking.

  He barely hesitated before he ripped into the remains of the carcass. Seconds later, it was gone, bones and all. Too quickly. A small, thin rabbit. Barely a snack.

  When she nudged him again, he understood. She wanted to forage again, side by side. More of an appetizer than a meal, the slight taste of fresh meat hadn’t been enough for either of them. They both were hungry for more.

  Flank to flank they moved forward. When she turned, he did the same, intuition and a kind of mind-melding giving him a gracefulness that had been long absent and sorely missed. In this moment, he felt closer to his old self than he had since losing his sight.

  A few minutes later they caught the scent of another small animal, a squirrel this time. One touch of her nose indicated she meant to take chase and leave him standing alone, though he didn’t feel quite as utterly useless as he had before.

  In the instant before she moved, a sound—the crack of a twig—alerted them that something else, something larger than prey, was near. They both froze, she trying to locate the threat with her eyes, he doing the same with his nose.

  Braden heard the report of the rifle a split second before the bullet hit the tree. A second later, Alisa slammed into him, knocking him down and sending him rolling. He didn’t need words to know what she meant. They needed to run. Fast and far, keeping low to the ground. Right. Now.

  Go. She nudged him again, flipping her tail against his face. He understood, opening his mouth and clamping down on the edges of her furry tail with his teeth. He barely had time to think before she sprang forward, leaving him no choice but to do the same.

  They ran like the wind before a storm, the way he had before blindness had overtaken him. The sensation was unlike any he’d felt since the explosion.

  Before losing his sight, he’d always loved the jolt of his paws slamming into the earth, the wind blowing his fur. But never before had he moved so much in unison with another wolf, snout level with her right flank, the tail an indicator in case he accidentally turned the wrong way.

  They ran together in perfect harmony, full out, low to the ground. Out of deference to his blindness, she kept to as straight a path as possible, rarely veering between trees. He supposed she did so only when she had to, in order to keep him safely with her.

  Finally, after several minutes of running, she slowed, panting. Finally, he let go of his mouthful of her tail, nudging her once to give wordless thanks and an apology in case he’d somehow hurt her. She nudged him back, once. He supposed this meant that she was okay.

  In the silent forest, they listened. Flank to flank they stood, sides heaving. No sounds of pursuit, no human blundering through the underbrush after them. No more shots.

  She nudged him once more, and then he felt the air around him ripple with energy as she changed. Though he felt a sharp pang of regret—he had not remained wolf long enough for his beast—he knew it was necessary.

  A moment later, no longer in her wolf form, she spoke. “Your turn, Braden. Time to shift to human. My father keeps a hunting cabin near here. We’ll go there until we figure out what to do and how we’ll get back to the palace. If we don’t return soon, my parents will worry.”

  Dropping low to the ground, he closed his eyes and did as she asked. A moment later, as man once more, he climbed to his feet, his arousal jutting out proudly before him. Though he of course could not see her, he was well aware that she could see him. Even so, he refused to feel shame. Especially since such a sexually aroused state was normal for both men and women of their kind once they changed from wolf to human.

  Commonly, unless both parties were attracted to each other, the polite response was to ignore it.

  Which she did.

  He couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. The thought of her being aroused made it difficult for him to breathe.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, mistaking his silence for something else.

  “I’m fine. You’ll have to lead me again, I’m sorry.” he said.

  “Of course.” A moment later, she slid her small hand into his. After a startled second, he closed his fingers around her, refusing to acknowledge that even this slightest of touches increased his impossible and irrational desire for her.

  “Come with me.” The trace of huskiness in her voice told him she wasn’t completely unaffected. Of course, neither of them could or would act on their inappropriate desire, but his shredded ego rejoiced in the small boost her possible arousal gave it.

  To distract himself, he focused on what he could discern of their surroundings.

  “The sun must be going down,” he commented. “The breeze is beginning to carry a distinct chill.”

  “Actually, we’re much higher up in the mountains now, very close to the no-tree line. That’s another reason it feels colder.”

  This made no sense to him. “Why go up? With less trees, it’ll be much easier to spot us.”

  “Because whoever is trying to shoot us, hunters or not, is between us and my car, so we ran the opposite way. The cabin isn’t far.”

  “I suppose we’re nowhere near our clothes?” he asked, well aware that they were probably moving in the opposite direction.

  “You supposed correctly. Don’t worry, these are private, royal lands. We shouldn’t encounter anyone else.”

  “Good to know,” he said.

  With a sigh, she tugged on him and kept on marching forward. “I doubt our stalker will want to follow us up the mountain.”

  “Maybe so, but we’ll have to come down sometime,” he pointed out, overly conscious of his firm grip on her delicate and smooth-skinned hand.

  They were both buck-naked. He tried not to picture her body without clothes and failed. If anything, his arousal grew stronger. Foolish and humiliating. For all he knew, she could be the opposite of everything he found attractive in a woman.

  “True, we will have to go down eventually. But I’m thinking whoever shot at us won’t wait around too long, unless they’re simply hunters, right? Right now they’re probably searching for us close to my Jag.” Her grim tone told him that this, at least, she took seriously. “I can only hope they don’t destroy my car.”

  The worry in her voice sounded real, unfeigned. Odd. “Someone as rich as you
are can surely buy another.”

  “My family may have a lot of money,” she said, her tone dripping ice, “but that doesn’t mean I spend it unwisely. And while I definitely can buy another vehicle, that’s beside the point. I love that car.”

  He didn’t have a response for that, so he said nothing. Princess Alisa often felt like a walking contradiction, making him wish he could take the time to find out what made her tick. But that wasn’t why he’d made the journey to Teslinko, and he couldn’t afford to allow himself to be sidetracked.

  Though he really needed to know why someone was trying to kill her. Or them. He didn’t think for one second the shooter had been a misguided hunter.

  Chapter 7

  They continued walking, still hand in hand.

  “What’s it like, being blind?” she asked, surprising him with her bluntness. But her voice was kind, so he gave her question serious consideration.

  “The truth? It stinks. I keep telling myself I’ll get used to it, but the darkness is so limiting that I doubt I ever will.”

  “You’ve truly tried everything? Even Halflings like you eventually heal.”

  “And those that don’t, visit the Healer.” He shrugged. “It’s kind of like me trying to find out how you can do what you do. No one seems to be able to figure out what’s wrong with me.”

  “What happened?” she asked softly. “After the explosion? Do you remember?”

  “Yes.” He refused to dwell on the images that flashed before his eyes. “I woke up in the hospital, heavily sedated. I was severely burned, with broken bones and a head injury. All the hair had been singed off my body and they kept me doped up so I wouldn’t be in too much pain.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his hand, apparently totally comfortable with her nakedness. “How long were you in the hospital?”

  His shrug was deliberately casual, as words could not be, at least when discussing this pivotal moment in his life. “A very long time. Too long.”

  They kept walking and for a while she didn’t reply. Normally, he would have welcomed the silence—he’d grown to despise talking about the accident. But with her, he couldn’t help but wonder what she thought. At least his arousal had begun to subside. He was thankful for that.