by Cathryn Fox
With the PTF hot on our tails, not to mention my handlers, the forest around us begins to shake from the thundering chaos. As the hunters fan out in different directions, the ground vibrates and the wind picks up, blowing damp leaves and debris past our faces. Trees quake in response, sending the nightlife into hiding.
The rain falls harder and penetrates the canopy of branches overhead, soaking my clothes and hair and making the dangerous removal of my microchip that much more difficult. As my drenched top clings to my body a savage chill settles in my bones. Goosebumps break out on my flesh and I try not to shiver as I allow this boy to split my skin.
Despite the urgency of the situation he doesn’t hurry. Slow, steady hands move over my neck and not only am I surprised by his dexterity, I’m surprised by his gentle touch, especially since all I’ve ever known is brutality from men.
I feel a sharp sting, and then his glance meets mine as his hand hovers over my neck. Skilful fingers remain motionless in mid air, waiting for me to react. I hold still as a fierce wave of light-headedness washes over me in a debilitating whoosh. But I don’t let it weaken me. Instead I bite back an animal cry and let the pain strengthen my wolf.
“Brave little girl,” he whispers, and I want to correct him. I might be brave, and I might be a runt, but I’m no little girl. Like him, I’m a tracker, and while I might not be an alpha, when it comes right down to it my wolf will do whatever it takes to survive.
He turns his attention back to my throat. Squeezing my skin he pushes his knife in deeper to catch the underbelly of the device. A quick flick later, he holds a blood coated, circular piece of plastic between his fingers.
After he shows me the microchip, he says, “Let your handlers track this.” Turning from me, he tosses it far into the woods.
My ears perk, listening for it to land, but my attention is no longer on the tracking device, it’s on the river of blood trickling down my neck. Within seconds my tank top turns a deeper shake of pink, the coppery scent rising like cool mist on a placid lake until it reaches our nostrils.
As the alpha’s glance carefully tracks the rivulets of crimson trickling along my throat I don’t miss his deep, agonized growl as it rumbles in the night.
Looking fierce and carnal, he licks a fat water droplet from his mouth and that’s when I see the bloodlust flashing in his eyes. My senses go on high alert and everything inside me warns that this boy, this big bad wolf, would like nothing better than to eat me alive.
His hand jerks out. I instinctively take on a combative stance but he simply reaches behind me to grab a few leaves off a bush. He shoves them into his mouth, chews, and then places them on my cut. My cold skin begins to tingle as the plant goes to work on nursing my sore.
I eye him carefully. “What’s that for?”
“Infection.”
Puzzled, I glare at him. We both know as soon as I shift into wolf form, my body will heal itself. In a few days all that will be left is a purple scar. I’m about to ask what’s really going on, but he steps closer, too close. His big hands span my waist and when I try to move away he anchors me in place.
He puts his mouth close to my ear and his voice is low, so low it takes effort for me to hear him. “The name is Logan.”
Sensations begin to swell inside me, confusing me to the point of distraction. Since I need all my wits about me, I quickly try to tamp them down.
“Pride. It’s Pride,” I rush out in a tight whisper before I can think better of it.
I instantly want to take my words back. I know I shouldn’t tell him anything about me let alone give him my name, but there is something about this boy that’s throwing me off balance.
I’ve never reacted to another wolf this way before and not only do I despise what he does to me, I can’t seem to make sense of it.
Then again perhaps it’s simply animal instincts. A female is programmed to seek a dominant male. In the wild, survival of the species depends on it.
Either way there is one thing I do know. He’s a distraction I don’t need, a ruthless one at that, and the sooner I get away from him the better.
His deft fingers begin to loosen my shirt. As he tugs my tank top out of my waistband, helping me from my clothes, the soft pad of his thumb brushes over my sensitive flesh.
What does he think he’s doing?
My predatory instincts take over and I react to his unwelcome touch. Angered and unafraid, my wolf growls a warning and my canines sharpen, putting a stop to any further intimate exploration.
He inches back, and I instantly understand his intent as his hands go to his buckle. He unfastens his pants and with a nod he gestures toward a distance peak. “We need to get into a defensive position.”
I almost feel foolish that I’d mistaken his gesture for anything more than what it was. I’m a runt, nothing more, and undoubtedly considered one of nature’s mistakes to an alpha like him. But he doesn’t give me time to dwell on the illogical notion that he was undressing me for other purposes. With hurried movements he begins to shed the rest of his clothes and instead of following suit, I simply stand there and watch.
His voice takes on a hard edge, one that warns me not to challenge this alpha when he says, “We need to go. Now.”
I glare at him and want to remind him that I travel alone. But when voices thunder nearby, the hunters growing dangerously close, I realize I’m in no position to argue. He’s right. I need to move. Now. I reach for the hem of my tank top.
Like any good tracker, Logan makes quick work of his clothes, discarding them in record time. Normally I don’t watch when another shifter sheds, but there is something about this boy that holds my attention.
Without a hint of modesty, he finishes stripping, then stands before me completely naked. As I take in his body my wolf reacts. My blood pumps faster and a strange, primal growl rips from my throat before I can stop it.
I’ve seen naked before, but I’ve never seen this kind of naked. A wave of awareness moves through me and throws me off balance. I shake it off, hating the primal effect he seems to have over my wolf.
My glance travels back to his face and I catch the way he’s staring at me. His body is tense and with the hunters closing in he presses a finger to his lips and silently communicates with his eyes. We exchange a long glance and I know what he wants, what he’s waiting for.
My hands grip the hem of my tank top tighter and for the first time in my life I feel self-conscious about getting naked in front of a boy.
I brush that ridiculous emotion aside and remind myself that at our core we’re animals, ruled by nature and survival of the fittest. Shedding in front of another shifter is as natural as breathing.
I pull my top off and hurry out of my bra and jeans. When I hear Logan take in a sharp breath, my glance darts to his and my muscles tense in response to his expression.
A deadly mixture of surprise and anger registers on his face, and the pain in his gaze has me leaning forward to let a long curtain of blond hair cover my bare, damaged flesh—for both our sakes.
His eyes search mine, and while he’s a dangerous alpha something in his soft whisper reminds me that he’s still just a boy, “I’m sorry, Pride. My master wasn’t so cruel.”
Before I can tell him that I don’t want his pity, he turns from me, and I get the impression that he’s offering me his back not because he can’t stand to see my scars, but because he’s gifting me with a measure of privacy.
Shocked, I don’t know what to make of it—or him. No one has ever treated me like a human girl before, but I have no time to think about it. I hear twigs crunch and quickly scent the air, only to discover that a hunter is merely a few feet away from discovering us.
Logan drops to the ground and I quickly peel off the rest of my clothes and let my animal instincts take over. When I finish transforming, I seek him out. Looking fierce and deadly, he’s already on all fours, waiting for me, his pewter eyes glistening like precious gemstones in the dark.
“Re
ady?” he asks.
Since he seems to know more about where we need to go than I do, I make the quick decision to follow him, for the time being. Then I’ll make a clean break after the PTF and handlers lose our trail. I nod my head and lope toward him.
“Stay close.”
With a flick of his tail, he takes off ahead of me, and as I follow behind I can’t help but think he is the most powerful wolf I’ve ever seen. Long lean legs flex as he runs, jumping branches and negotiating the dark forest with practiced ease. Wind rushes through the trees and washes over his streamlined frame, matting his thick brownish-black fur to his body.
We run long, hard and well into the night and his speed, strength and stamina impresses me as we cut across the rough terrain. I continue to keep pace as the moon rises higher and higher in the sky. Soon I find myself so deep in unknown territory that I fear it could take me days to scent my way out. The air grows colder and grass turns to snow as we continue our ascent up the side of a mountain. I paw at the white flakes, and marvel at the way they feel beneath my rough pads.
After running for what could very well be hours, Logan slows to a trot, and I canter up beside him, keeping a cautious distance. That’s when I notice how high up we are. Ice crunches beneath my paws as I move to the cliff’s edge and look out over the terrain below. I gasp, never having seen anything quite so incredible.
But I shake my head, unable to think about that. Instead, I memorize the landscape and work to pinpoint my coordinates. I recall the large post boards we passed during our climb, advertising the different hiking trails throughout the park, not to mention the warning signs, indicating the dangerous animals that inhabit the sanctuary. I’ve never heard of the Olympic National Park before, but from my elevation I can see for miles, and what I see fascinates my wolf. She wants to stay. She wants to call this home.
“Nice, isn’t it?” The sound of Logan’s voice inside my head startles me, and reminds me that I’m not here to enjoy the view.
“Hey…” he says, coaxing me when I don’t answer.
He stalks closer, close enough for our breaths to mingle. As his scent fills my nostrils I can tell he’s trying to lighten my mood and lift my concerns, but he has no idea how deep my worries run. Escape from the compound might be the end for him, but this is the beginning for me. I have a greater purpose.
With a playful flick, Logan nudges my chin with his muzzle. I turn from him and his voice is full of youthful excitement when he says, “What’s the matter Pride, cat got your tongue?”
A growl rips from my throat and I turn on him. “Don’t say that to me.”
Our gazes clash and he lifts a paw, reacting like he’d been struck. “Hey, I didn’t mean…”
I step away and consider the night’s events as I walk along the jagged edge. In the face of a common enemy Logan and I might have connected, but that doesn’t mean I trust him, or want to crack jokes with him as we admire the scenery.
In our world it’s every wolf for himself, and while this boy is young, I know he’s not innocent. He’s a rogue alpha, one who is fierce and dangerous. One who could turn on me in two seconds flat. I can’t forget that.
“Pride-”
I cut him off and level him with a glare. “It’s fine.”
“Look, why don’t we-”
My anger flares once again and my breath turns to fog in front of my muzzle as I let loose a ragged howl. “There is no ‘we’.” I don’t like the way he’s trying to put me at ease. It makes me uncomfortable and suspicious. Needing a defense against his alpha charm I do the one thing I do best.
I harden myself.
“I’m trying to think of our survival,” he volunteers.
“And survival involves us stopping to take in the view?” I return.
Now that we’ve stopped, my muscles begin to ache from the hard climb and my body urges me to rest. But I don’t want him to see any sign of weakness in me so I angle my head and try to appear unaffected from that long run. The last thing Logan needs to see is the depth of my exhaustion. I suspect, however, that my emotions are as transparent as cling wrap to this astute wolf.
“We’re stopping because I spotted a small cave over there and it’s a good place to hunker down for the night.”
As my body screams for rest, I know I’m too exhausted to keep running, but ask the question anyway. “Shouldn’t we be looking for food, water, supplies?”
“There’s not much more we can do tonight and I don’t know about you but I need the rest.”
I stare at his hard body and as I take in his long sleek muscles, I know he’s lying. He’s barely winded and hasn’t even broken a sweat yet. But then I realize what he’s really doing. He knows I’m tired but understands I’m not about to admit it, so he’s taking one for the team. His chivalry simply arouses my suspicion.
When thunder rumbles in the distance, he says, “Come on, let’s get inside.”
“I’m not sleeping in that cave with you,” I announce, partly because I don’t trust him and partly because when a wolf slumbers they take on their human form. I’d rather not hunker down in a small cavern with him, considering I have no clothes to cover myself.
He looks at me for a moment and I brace myself for a fight.
“Fine, you take the cave and I’ll seek shelter under those trees over there.”
Since I fully expected him to argue, his easy-going nature stops me cold. The men from my compound—wolves included—are dominant and forceful and are used to getting what they want.
There is a moment of strained silence between us then I say, “You found the cave, you take it. I’ll take the trees.” I offer him my back and step toward the makeshift shelter.
“Pride,” he says, clearly frustrated by my lack of female obedience and when he pauses I can tell he’s trying to change tactics.
“I insist,” I answer, my tone letting him know the matter is no longer up for debate.
He pounces in front of me and his voice takes on a hard edge when he says, “What’s your problem, Pride?”
“I don’t have a problem.”
He growls low and deep. “Did you ever stop to think that we might need to rely on each other if we want to make it out of here alive?”
“I don’t need anyone,” I counter, but as soon as the words enter my thoughts, I’m reminded of my mother, my father, the elders. As bone deep loneliness rips through me, I suddenly feel like I’m going to cry. But I’ve desensitized for so long now, the tears don’t come.
His face softens and there is something in the way he says, “Everyone needs someone,” that reminds me of a little lost boy.
“I’m not everyone,” I shoot back, wanting to anger him so he’ll harden himself again. Hard I can handle. Hard I understand.
He nuzzles me with his snout, the same way the pups do when they want to play. “Pride…”
I jerk away. “Don’t touch me.”
He inches back and the wounded look on his face causes the strangest sensation to erupt in my stomach. I shudder, almost violently.
“We’ll hunt in the morning,” I say for lack of anything else as I squash those strange sensations. I call back my anger because it’s an emotion I’m more comfortable with.
“Pride.”
I look over my shoulder, and I’m so tired I can almost feel the fight drain out of me. “What?”
His pewter eyes rake over my damaged body and his voice is soft when he whispers, “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Maybe you’re the one who should be worrying about me hurting you,” I respond, distrust heavy in my tone.
With the tension between us palpable, the fur along his back bristles, and his silver eyes narrow. “Do you want to hurt me, Pride?”
Weary and with no desire to continue this conversation, I say, “I don’t even know you, Logan.”
We exchange a long glance then he breaks the silence by asking, “What do you want to know?” But I don’t miss the slight edge that enters his voice;
he can’t hide that from my trained ears. It’s that edge that speaks volumes and has alarm bells jangling in the back of my brain.
I’m good at reading people so I take a moment to study his body language. I note the way he’s suddenly avoiding direct eye contact with me, an indication that he’s keeping something from me. Clearly this alpha is harboring secrets and plenty of them.
“Nothing.”
A few short hours ago I might have wanted to know things about him, things like where he came from, how he escaped, and how he gained the knowledge and dexterity to remove our microchips. After all, knowledge is power and I’m all about power.
But now, well, now that I’ve run with him, and noted his ability to distract me without even trying, I’m not so sure I want to know any of those things. And I can’t forget the fear in my master’s eyes when he first summoned me for this hunt. Maybe the less I know about this alpha the better.
“Nothing?” he balks. “Come on, you must want to know something.”
“If you’re looking for a friend, or a mate, you picked the wrong wolf,” I say, hoping my harsh words will silence him once and for all. All I want to do is escape those hunting us so I can keep the promise I made to myself.
Desperate to get away from him, but also desperate for rest, I walk toward the cluster of trees. Wind bites at my face and rustles my tawny fur as I look for a dry place to flop. I kick damp leaves around my makeshift bed and even though I’ve roughed it before, I can’t help but think that maybe this wasn’t my best move. Maybe I shouldn’t have insisted that he sleep in the cave. But I couldn’t bring myself to switch places, and despite the cold, bitter air, I’m not about to go crawling in there with my tail between my legs.
Off in the distance a howl serrates the night. I glance up and take in the angle of the waxing moon. With sunup still a long way off, I decide to grab a few hours rest before I flee. Despite my exhaustion there is no way I’m going to let myself fall asleep, not with an unpredictable wolf slumbering a few feet away. Besides, with the harsh elements nipping at my body, I’ll need my fur to keep me warm. Once my wolf is well rested, I’ll sneak away under the cover of darkness.
