by Carol Davis
“And what if the gods say they intend for us to… to be together?”
What would Gregory do then? she wondered. He was angry enough now. Would he be driven to attack Jed the way Micah had attacked Luca? He could find a way to creep up on Jed while he was asleep, and stab him swiftly and fatally. Her son was no murderer… but no one had thought Micah was capable of murder, either.
“I don’t know what’s happening to the pack,” she said to the ground. “Things were never this complicated.”
“Things have always been this complicated, healer.”
Though she was aware that it wasn’t a wise thing to do, she melted into his embrace and let him hold her with her head pillowed on his chest. He wasn’t aroused now; if anything, he seemed a little tired. He’d shifted so fast during the battle with Gregory, and then again just a couple of minutes later, than his energy had to be waning. He needed to sleep, even though there was still some light in the sky.
She felt like sleeping, too. Right here, right now.
In Jed’s arms.
No, not here. At her request, the rest of the pack had stayed away from the clearing, but word would have spread by now that the battle was over. Everyone in the settlement would be resuming their customary evening routine: dinner, readying the animals for the night, visiting each other.
“Could we go up to the bluff?” she asked quietly.
“Of course. But why?”
“I like to watch night fall up there. It’s very peaceful.”
Jed shrugged in agreement. “That sounds all right. Let me fetch some fresh clothes, though.”
He was gone before she could say yes or no. Still feeling strained, she picked up Gregory’s shirt and pants from where he’d tossed them on the ground and shook the dirt off. They were badly in need of washing—there were several small stains on the shirt, and both items carried the strong scent of an adolescent male.
They all but reeked of anger and frustration.
Shaking her head, she laid them on a heap of rocks. Gregory could come back and get them himself, she decided.
He could wash them.
Then Jed was back, dressed in a clean shirt and jeans. He’d put on shoes as well; the walk up to the bluff was littered with stones, many of them sharp enough to slice bare feet. And he was carrying a small bundle, something wrapped in cloth.
“Supper,” he explained.
The western sky was still streaked with bands of vivid color when they reached her favorite spot. The ground was covered with pine needles there, soft to sit on, and softer yet when Jed had spread out the cloth that had wrapped their simple meal. He’d brought some meat and bread, and several pieces of fruit, and he laid it all out with great care.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
The smile he gave her in return made a rush of warmth sweep through her.
They ate their supper watching the colors of the sky shift and blend and transform: pink to rose, pale blue to a deep indigo. It was quietly spectacular and breathtaking, although she had watched it happen a thousand times before. Nothing the humans could come up with—none of their movies or TV shows, or their fireworks displays—could rival this, with its elegant simplicity.
“Not as beautiful as you are,” Jed murmured.
Without saying anything more, they slipped out of their clothes and lay naked on the blanket as the stars began to come out. The breeze was mild, warm enough that it felt like silk sliding over Deborah’s skin—and it tickled a little, teasing at her nipples and her sex.
It was teasing Jed too, she noticed. His cock was rising to attention.
More and more stars popped into view, as if the gods were turning on the lights.
Jed reached over to grasp her hip and turned her onto her side, draped her leg over his own hip, and slid inside her, and she looked past him at the spill of stars sitting on the edge of the bluff as he pressed against her, his belly warm against her own. He let out a little huff of pleasure as he grasped her backside in his palm and squeezed.
“Do we need the advice of the gods?” he murmured. “Truly? When we know how we feel about each other?”
He didn’t let her answer. He pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was as sweet as any she’d ever received. Then he slid a hand in between them and rubbed at her little nub.
“Jed…”
“Sshh.”
He was stretching her, filling her completely. The sensation made her grow more and more wet around him, welcoming him, asking for more. He let out another groan of pleasure as he began to slide in and out, thrusting in a very relaxed, leisurely way, as if this was their way of letting go of the day’s worries. Something they did every day as the sun went down.
It was something like slipping underwater, she thought. Both powerful and calming at the same time.
“In my dreams,” he said close to her ear, “I wake up looking into your eyes.”
He kissed her again, probing in deep with his tongue, tasting her as if she were some rare delicacy.
“Chocolate,” she said.
“What?”
“Am I your chocolate?”
That made him stop what he was doing. He drew back a little and looked at her with both bewilderment and wild amusement on his face.
“I have no idea where that came from,” he said in a thick, throaty voice, “but of course. Yes. You’re my chocolate. The sweetest of treats, and the most completely satisfying. I can never decide whether it’s better to gulp you down or savor you in tiny”—he nipped at her lower lip—“little tastes.”
Then, abruptly, he stopped. He slipped out of her and sat up, and pulled her up to sit facing him.
“I don’t need the advice of the gods,” he told her firmly. “I love you to the depths of my soul. I’ve felt that way since we were young ones. When you chose Victor, I was heartbroken—but I knew it wasn’t my place to argue with a bond. But Victor is gone, my dearest healer. He’s been gone for a long time.”
Golden light flickered in his eyes. The wolf was surging forward.
She didn’t object. Couldn’t object, because something pulled her toward him and wiped away all conscious thought.
Her own wolf, answering his.
With a strength she could not have fought even if she had wanted to, he turned her onto her hands and knees and plunged into her from behind, the way the wolves would do in the wild. He pumped into her fiercely, clutching her hips in both hands so that she couldn’t get away, demonstrating his worthiness as a mate, his dominance over her, his need to have his way.
His thrusts came faster and faster, and then she felt the hot surge of his seed inside her, pulsing into her.
Moments later he collapsed onto the blanket and pulled her back into his arms.
They fell asleep looking up at the stars.
Eleven
The daylight seemed harsh the next morning—it almost seemed to strip away her skin and leave her thoughts and feelings exposed for all to see. She was clothed again, but felt more naked than she ever had in her life.
Of course they all knew she had coupled with Jed again, and in the most wild of ways. There’d been nothing tender, nothing affectionate about it. Most of the others had experienced a coupling like that at least once or twice, so it was no mystery to them, but Deborah couldn’t help but feel that Jed’s wolf had expressed something that no one here would understand.
Caleb was right, she decided.
She and Jed needed to go into Isolation, turn themselves over to their wolves, and hope that the gods would see fit to guide them.
Her body ached a little as she made her way through the settlement, heading for her simple but very comfortable home. A number of families had lived there before she and Victor had claimed it as theirs, and she’d always been able to sense their presence. The love those wolves had felt for each other seemed to suffuse the walls, the floors, the furniture, the air itself.
It was a good home, she thought. Safe and warm.
And i
t held a thousand memories of Victor. Sitting there in the chair in front of the fire. Eating his dinner at the head of the table. And of course, languishing in their bed on lazy mornings.
“Come to me,” she whispered. “Tell me what to do.”
But he wouldn’t, would he? In all those dreams she’d had over the past few months, he’d spoken not a word.
“Good morning, healer.”
“A good day to you, healer.”
She smiled and nodded, but couldn’t manage to return the greetings. Luckily, her neighbors thought her smile was enough of a response, and they went on their way. Rachel waved to her from down the road a ways, but didn’t try to summon her, and a couple of others did the same thing.
She was halfway home when little Timothy ran across her path, but all he did was whoop—the war cry of a child—and disappear into the woods.
By the gods, her body was sore.
It happened sometimes during her monthly courses, but those had come and gone. And it wasn’t just the intimate parts of her that ached. Her limbs were leaden and uncooperative, and her back and shoulders ached, as if she’d carried some enormous burden the length of the island and back.
Maybe this was what aging was like. Maybe Sara felt like this all the time.
There was only one thing to be done for it. She prescribed it frequently for one female or another, and for the wolves—both male and female—who had tried to tackle too much work and had pulled a muscle or twisted a joint.
As she’d hoped, Cara was working near the big wooden tub, and the fires were burning brightly.
“Good morning, healer,” the young female called out as Deborah approached.
The last few steps felt like a hundred miles.
“I’m in need of a soak,” Deborah said.
Cara didn’t wait for an explanation. Moving so energetically that she almost made Deborah cringe, she carried a kettle of water that had been heating over the fire over to the tub and poured it in. She swiftly added a second kettle, then tested the water in the tub with a hand plunged in deep.
“There,” she announced. “That feels good.”
She had assisted Deborah with many a suffering wolf, so she didn’t hesitate. Smiling the whole time, she eased Deborah’s clothes off, set them aside, then held on to Deborah’s arm and helped her climb into the tub.
The warm water felt like bliss.
“You certainly had a turn in the tub coming to you,” Cara commented as she refilled the kettles with fresh water from the barrel and placed them back on their hooks over the fires. “You work as hard as any of us. I’ve heard nothing about anyone else needing a soak this morning, so you can stay in there as long as you like. Just tell me when the water starts to cool, and I’ll warm it up again.”
Her voice sounded as if it was coming from a great distance. Deborah had already let herself drift away, soothed by the heat seeping into her muscles and joints. Dimly, she heard Cara say something about needing to fetch something, and a moment later the girl was gone.
And Jed took her place.
“I was too rough,” he said, and it too sounded distant. “I’m sorry. I let the wolf get a little too close to the surface, and it was determined to claim you.”
“It’s all right,” she muttered.
“But there you sit. I’ve never known you to go running for the tub. You can’t tell me this isn’t due to—”
“Hush,” she told him sharply.
“My apologies.”
Her eyes had drifted shut; she forced them open again long enough to see the repentant look on his face. “I’m not some fragile human,” she told him with some impatience. “My wolf wanted it as much as yours did. I’m not laid up in bed. I just wanted a soak.”
“I’ll go, then. We’ll talk later.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk at all; at least not for an hour or two, particularly if it had anything to do with her relationship with Jed, or with Gregory. She was sure her son was at home waiting for her, having worked himself into some higher-yet state of adolescent outrage. He’d failed at battling Jed; what he might conjure up to do next, she had no idea. Break something, maybe. Maybe a lot of things. Or maybe he’d refuse to speak to her for the rest of his life.
She thought she might enjoy that. It would be very tranquil.
“I’ll leave you in peace,” Jed said after a minute.
“Hmm.”
She drifted for a while after that, just conscious enough to keep herself from sliding under the surface of the water. That might actually be pleasant too, she thought: letting the warmth surround her from head to toe, as if she were lying in liquid sunshine. Sunshine always improved her mood, particularly if it came after several days of gloom and rain. And that was contradictory, wasn’t it? Water falling out of the sky made her pensive and sluggish, but water in a tub was rejuvenating.
The world made no sense.
She let Cara help her up out of the tub after her fingers and toes had wrinkled, after the water had gone cool enough that it was no longer enjoyable. Cara had offered to keep adding kettles of hot water, but it was nearly noon, and like it or not, the healer had responsibilities.
She refused Cara’s offer to help her get dressed. While the girl was tending to her fires, Deborah toweled herself dry, then pulled on her clothes and shoes and tried to decide whether to go home or to the gardens.
Or somewhere else.
Anywhere else.
Her bed seemed like a good choice. As an alternative, someone else’s bed. Or anything that might serve as a bed.
“You look as if you’re going to fall asleep in your tracks,” Cara said with a frown. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
No, Deborah thought, but she said, “I’m fine.”
“A good day to you, then.”
Gregory wasn’t at home, nor was he anywhere near the classrooms. His teachers hadn’t seen him since the day before, and that had only been for a few minutes. His senior teacher, Randall, said the boy had become restless almost immediately after taking his seat, and at the first opportunity he’d snuck away from the group and disappeared.
“It happens,” Randall said. “They think everything is very dire at that age.”
He didn’t say anything about Gregory challenging Jed, but Deborah could see in his eyes that he’d heard all the gossip. He seemed regretful, as if he felt he was at least partly to blame for Gregory’s behavior.
“Will you let me know if you see him?” she asked.
“Of course, healer.”
She went then to Victor’s mother and sister, thinking that Gregory might have gone to them for sympathy, but neither of them had seen him for almost a week.
At a loss, she asked her own mother, who began to chide her for losing track of her son—as if Gregory were a wayward toddler who was likely to wander off a cliff or into a nest of snakes within the next few minutes. No, Deborah decided; Gregory wouldn’t have come to her mother for help. Sitting with her mother was like being trapped in the midst of a nest of vipers, all of them anxious to strike at the intruder.
She began to wish she’d stayed in the tub of warm water. She might have eventually dissolved, if she remained in there long enough, and then she wouldn’t need to worry about any of this.
“Deborah.”
The sound of her name made her wince. Healer or not, she wasn’t eager to talk to any more of her packmates, or listen to their problems. The fact that it was Sara and Rachel didn’t change her mind.
“The alpha is looking for you,” Rachel said quietly.
Wonderful, Deborah thought.
She considered asking how Caleb hadn’t managed to find her, since she’d been roaming around the settlement for a couple of hours now—but the alpha wasn’t in the habit of searching for anyone. The wolves went to him. And no one wanted to be summoned twice.
“I can’t find my son,” she said.
Sara shrugged that off. “We’ll find him. Caleb is anxious to see you and J
ed. He said he gave you instructions last night, and he wonders why you haven’t obeyed. He’s not in a very good mood.”
Is anyone? Deborah wondered.
Just yesterday, she would have kept Caleb’s instructions to herself, would have declined to discuss them. But something in the expressions of her friends prompted a gate to open inside her. After listening to her mother complain for almost an hour, she was desperate for some sympathy.
“He wants us to go into Isolation,” she said.
Clearly, the two females already knew that, and Deborah wondered if it would ever be possible to keep a secret for more than a few minutes in a pack of wolves who felt they had a right to share everything, good or bad.
“He says we’re disrupting the pack,” she told them.
Sara patted her arm. “I don’t know that I’d go that far. We all know Caleb can be a bit overdramatic sometimes. But if what he means is that the two of you are doing yourselves a disservice—I’ll go along with that.”
“I—” Deborah started.
Sara cut her off with a small gesture, a waggle of her hand. “We know.”
“Everyone in the pack is trying to maneuver my life for me. It gets tiresome. I wish I could just—”
But Sara wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. She had no idea what it was like to be a wolf.
Rachel did, though. “We all mourn for the ones who have gone on ahead,” she said quietly. “I may never see Luca again. I have to trust in the gods to keep him safe. Sometimes you just have to trust, Deborah.” Smiling, she moved closer and wrapped Deborah in a warm embrace. “Caleb is right. Perhaps it’s time to turn things over to the wolf. To listen to the deepest part of yourself. Even if it’s going to tell you something you don’t want to hear.”
Her friend was holding her gently, but the embrace was exquisitely painful nevertheless.
“I don’t want to let go,” Deborah moaned. “I can’t.”
Rachel stepped back and held her at arm’s length. “Then surrender to the will of the alpha. Tell yourself that you have no choice, because you really don’t. I saw Caleb’s face this morning. He’s gone past being in a troublesome mood. If you cross him, he may name someone else as healer.”
