by Cathryn Fox
He inches back. “Pride?” he asks quietly as his eyes search my face.
I blink rapidly. “Yes.”
He looks me over. “What else is going on inside that head of yours?”
When I don’t readily answer, he props his elbow up and rests his head in his hand. “Tell me.”
After a long pause I finally say, “The full moon.”
“What about it?”
I lower my eyes. “I can’t control her.” I turn to him and press my hand over my stomach. “Can you control your wolf?”
He nods.
I look away and think about the friends we made. “What if she—”
“She won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re with me now, Pride,” he says, as if laying claim to me, marking me as his. “And I won’t let anything happen to you. I promised you that already and I don’t break my promises.”
I swallow. “I’m not sure you can make that promise.”
“You’re going to have to trust me then, aren’t you?”
I stare at him long and hard and while I know I feel something for this wolf, something I’ve never felt for another, old habits and lifelong fears die hard and I still can’t forget about the secrets I know he’s keeping from me.
“You can’t ask me to do that.”
His face hardens. “After everything we’ve been through, I think I can.” But he doesn’t press. Instead his fingers span my stomach. “First things first, we need to make sure your stomach is full.”
“Okay.”
“Are you ready to go hunting again?”
Feeling emotionally battered after my encounter with Stone, I push the blankets off me. I crouch on the balls of my feet and unzip the tent, needing to run and clear my head. Maybe a good hard trek through the woods will help me figure out what’s going on.
“Let’s go.”
We sniff the air and look for game. As we track along the mountain, Logan moves ahead of me, to keep an eye out for danger and traps. As he leads the way, the sight of him pulls all my attention and I decide it’s well past time to learn more about the boy who has yet to turn on me.
“Logan?”
“Yeah?” He slows until I’m beside him.
“How did my master find you?”
Pewter flickers in his eyes as they meet mine. “I don’t know.”
“Where was your master’s estate?”
“California.”
I wave my hand. “Then you must have been running for days if you made it here.”
“I hitchhiked.”
“When did you remove your microchip?”
“As soon as I escaped.”
“Then how did they track you here?”
“Like I said, I don’t know.”
I glare at him and my stomach twists. He’s asked me to trust him but once again I get the sense he’s keeping something from me. I open my mouth to voice those concerns but he silences me and gestures with a nod.
When I see a pack of deer, I understand his intent and instantly begin to remove my clothes. It’s only after I’m naked that I realize I hadn’t turned my back on the alpha while I undressed. Once complete, I stand next to Logan like we’re equals and we both call on our primal side.
A few minutes later, when we’re both in wolf form, we silently communicate a plan of attack and begin our hunt. I calm my wolf and mentally go over yesterday’s training as Logan gives me the go ahead.
I sniff the air and dart through the woods, keeping low and quiet, the way he taught me. As I approach I get a quick flash of panic, but then I hear Logan. He’s in my head, working with me, coaching me and giving me the courage I need to make the kill.
“That’s it, Pride, you’ve got this.”
Strangely enough, there is something so encouraging in his voice, and the combination of his strength and belief in me help me push forward. Confidence bolstered, and wanting to please Logan, I dart forward, and catch the deer from behind. Within seconds I wrestle it to the ground and once it’s down, Logan joins me. I can feel his excitement, his pride in me and my own chest swells in response.
We eat together and once we’re done we go find our clothes and make our way to the lake for water.
Logan grabs two big sticks as we cut through the trees and once we reach the lake he sits on the embankment, pulls the knife from the bag and begins to shape the ends into a sharp spear.
“What’s that for?” I ask as I take a big swallow of water.
“Fishing.”
Even though I’ve just had breakfast, I can’t deny that I’m ready for lunch. “You’re a guy of many skills.”
Logan smiles and peels a strip of bark off the stick. When the blade of the knife glistens in the sunlight it reminds me of Stone.
“Logan?” I begin.
“Yeah?”
As though sensing my unease Logan puts the knife down and shoots a glance around to do a quick check for danger.
“What is it?” he asks.
“Stone was trying to tell me something.”
His face darkens at the mention of Stone. “What do you think it was?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t think he wanted to hurt me.”
“That’s not how it looked to me. He was coming at you with a knife.” Logan holds up the metal blade and his voice is hard when he says, “This knife.”
I steal a quick glance at him. “That’s because you couldn’t hear what he was saying to me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Stone and I, well, we can speak telepathically.”
He gives me an odd look. “All wolves can, Pride.”
“Not when they are in human form.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel like I’ve betrayed him somehow.
His body stiffen and when his eyes turn cold, I get the sense he knows something I don’t.
“What?” I ask.
Logan goes quiet for a long moment, then he asks, “When did your master break Stone?”
“Three years ago when he turned sixteen.”
His gaze shifts to my body. “And you were what, fourteen, going through puberty?”
“Yes.”
“And this is right around the time he started acting aggressive around you right?”
“Yeah.”
Logan scrubs his chin with his hand, briefly closes his eyes and makes a tortured sound. “I should have known.”
“What?”
“Stone isn’t your enemy, Pride.” He gives a solemn shake of his head. “He’s in love with you.”
I balk at that suggestion. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Think about it. I’m sure your master was like mine and would use anything you loved or cared about against you right?”
My stomach cramps as I think about the elders and what the master will do to them because of me. “Yes.”
“Maybe that’s why Stone kept his feelings a secret and went so far as to let everyone believe he hated you.”
Logan goes quiet for a minute to let me chew on that, but the idea is so farfetched I have a hard time working my mind around it.
His gaze lingers on my face for a long time. “That’s what I would have done.” His eyes narrow and his voice drops to a soft whisper when he adds, “If it meant protecting you, that’s exactly what I would have done.”
My mind spins as I take a moment to entertain the idea. “You’re wrong.”
“Just think about it,” Logan says.
My brain comes to a screeching halt and I refuse to dwell on Logan’s absurd suggestion, because I can’t believe Stone is in love with me.
I command myself to get my thoughts together. “Maybe this is all ridiculous and Stone is nothing more than an aggressive alpha who always takes what he wants.” I nod toward the knife. “And maybe he really was going to hurt me.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Logan says, sounding unconvinced.
“Come on, let’s move.”
/> “Don’t you want to go fishing?”
I pull in a fortifying breath. “Maybe later,” I say, needing to run, to hunt, to work off the nervous feeling churning in my gut.
Logan repacks the bag and hands me a spear. I take it and start running through the woods without bothering to push branches out of my way. I feel the sting of a thorn as it slices my face but I ignore the pain. As if sensing my turmoil Logan remains silent and lets me run hard as I work things through.
I run for a long time with Logan keeping a fair distance behind but then suddenly I get the strangest sense we’re being followed. As my nape tingles in warning, the way it always does when danger is nearby, I slow my steps and glance around the rough terrain, noting how high up the mountain-top we are.
I spin around and look at Logan, who is staring back at me, but what I see has my senses going on high alert. My wolf growls and my buttons pop as my primal side threatens to make its presence known but my intuition tells me that my best bet at survival is to keep my human form.
I suck in a sharp breath and with my spear aimed directly at Logan’s head, I say in a calm voice that belies my emotions. “Get on your knees, Logan.”
Logan holds his hands up, palms out. “Pride,” he whispers, and cocks his head to the side. “What are you doing?”
“Do it,” I demand.
Expression troubled, he drops, and as I watch him my heart trip hammers.
With speed and accurate precision I throw the homemade spear at the mountain lion tracking us from behind. The sharp end skims its gorgeous coat, slicking along its fur just enough to maim it but not enough to kill it. Its loud roar echoes off the mountain-top, but the attack is enough to send it running in the opposite direction.
Logan swivels around and then his eyes dart back to mine. His grin comes slow. “Nice.”
Hands shaking, I stand there trying to breathe. Then something very important occurs to me. In the heat of the moment I was thinking with my heart, not my head.
It also occurs to me that I’ve never been so fast, or so accurate before. But the thought of losing Logan gave me an adrenaline rush like I’ve never felt before. It was that adrenaline and the fight-or-flight response that came with it that helped me perform better.
Maybe Logan was right and fighting with your heart doesn’t always have to be your downfall. Maybe, just maybe if you’re fighting for something or someone you really care about it gives you an edge. I always sensed Stone was fighting with his heart, not his head. Had he been protecting me all this time? Is that why I’m still alive today? Could Logan have been right?
Logan’s eyes narrow. “You okay?”
I begin to shake as I come down from the rush. Logan grabs me and hauls me against him and I see a flash of possessiveness in his eyes when he says, “Hey.” Tenderness steals over him and he presses his lips to my temple.
“I’m okay,” I say, comforted by his touch as his warmth moves through me, although if what he suspects about Stone is true then I don’t believe I’m ever going to be okay again.
He makes a noise with his tongue and arches a brow. “You’re lightning fast, Pride. When you come up against someone twice your size, they’re really going to underestimate you.”
I know what he’s doing and because I’m such a trembling mess I let him do it.
“That’s a nice advantage you have there,” he continues. “Now I know why your master sent you after me.”
A smile touches my mouth as Logan’s little pep talk starts to make me feel better. I sniff, pull myself together, and give him a coy smile. “I believe I had you worried for a minute there, didn’t I?”
He jabs his thumb into his chest, exaggerating when he says, “Me? No way.”
I give him a dubious look and plant my hands on my hips. “Not even for a minute?”
“Okay.” He forces a quick laugh. “Maybe for a minute. I guess I should be thanking you, young grasshopper.”
I have no idea why he’s calling me a grasshopper, but once again the oddest sense of pride wells up in my chest.
“No need to thank me,” I say as I recall all the times he saved me. “Let’s call it even.”
He grins. “I’ve taught you well.”
“Maybe you do need me after all.” I toss the words over my shoulder as I move past him to collect my spear.
He slips an arm around my waist and spins me around until I’m facing him. He dips his head and when his hair falls forward, the scent of his skin washes over me. My entire body stirs to life.
Rich pewter flecks sparkle in his blue eyes and there is no humor in his voice when he says, “I never said I didn’t need you, Pride.”
As I look up at him, I wonder exactly when it was that I developed feelings for him and exactly when it was that we stopped acting like enemies and started working together. Then I quickly remind myself that we have no future. In a few short days, when we escape this place, I’ll be leaving him behind, never to set eyes on him again.
“You’re right,” I answer, working diligently to harden myself. “You didn’t.”
He lets me go and I gather my spear, but when I turn back to Logan and see the bloodlust in his eyes my heart races. My hand goes to my throat, to where a thorny bush cut into my skin, and I feel the sticky drops of warm blood beneath my fingers.
“Logan?”
With two long strikes he closes the distance between us, and my wolf feels no fear as his glance settles on my throat. She only feels puzzled.
“What is it about my blood that makes you hungry?” I finally manage to get out.
He gives a frustrated shake of his head. “It’s not hunger, Pride.”
“Then what is it?”
He laughs and looks at me like I’m dense. “For a smart wolf you can be pretty naïve about certain things.”
With that he turns and stomps ahead of me. Before he gets too far in front of me he says, “I need you to morph and heal yourself right now, before I do something I might regret.”
13
August 28th one day until full moon
* * *
While we work to avoid hunters we spend the daytime hours honing my skills as we make our way out of the park. Logan takes me higher and higher on the tallest mountain, to an area of the park that is off limits to hikers. I know why he’s doing it, but still don’t think the distance will prevent my untamed wolf from going after what she wants. When her bloodlust takes hold, anything can happen. I shiver at the thought and push down a burst of panic.
As daylight begins to recede and the moon rides across the dark sky I try to fight down an ominous sense of foreboding. I glance around and wonder what’s keeping Logan. He left to gather snow to melt for coffee but seems to be taking an awfully long time.
Working to pass the time, I pace around the small campfire, feeling restless, edgy and so antsy it’s all I can do to keep from shifting and sprinting full speed across the mountain-top.
“Easy, Pride,” Logan says as he comes up behind me. He pulls me to him and my back presses against his chest. A rush of heat chases the chill away as he puts his mouth near my ear and says, “It’s going to be okay.”
I nod, even though I don’t believe him. How can it possibly be okay? I’m an undisciplined wolf who is trained to kill and not even Logan will be safe when the moon reaches its peak.
He spins me around and those rich, intense eyes of his lock on mine. As I watch him wet his lips, tension coils through me, and I find it most difficult to think with any sort of clarity. This boy really does have the uncanny ability to throw me off my game.
“I know something that will take your mind off the shift,” he murmurs with quiet certainty.
His voice is so soft, so suggestive and so loaded with promise my entire body quivers, and I wonder if he’s going to kiss me.
I search his face. “What?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual, my body from pulsing.
He grabs my hand, picks up our backpack and takes me to a soft spot on the
hill. We plunk down on the grassy slope and he reaches into his bag. He pulls out a pen and paper and hands them to me.
“Why don’t you draw something?”
I stare at him, completely unprepared for the emotions this gesture brings out in me.
I stumble over my words and ask, “How? Where?”
His dark brow shoots up, like he’s surprised by the question. “You’re always poking around in the sand with a stick, so I grabbed those back at the campfire.”
His observations take me by surprise, even though I realize they shouldn’t, and pull me up short. I stare at him, dumbfounded.
“You might want to close your mouth, Pride. The flies are out tonight.” With that he laughs quietly and sprawls out on the ground. He spreads his arms and legs wide and as he breathes deep he stares at the mosaic of stars overhead.
When his lids slip shut, I continue to stare at him long and hard, then turn my attention to the paper and begin to sketch. We don’t speak, not for a long time, then I finally break the quiet.
“Someday I’d like to try painting.” I’m not sure what compelled me to reveal that private detail about myself. Perhaps the planets have aligned themselves just right or perhaps I really want to share something personal with Logan.
His voice is soft and his eyes are still closed when he says, “Painting can be cool.”
This surprises me. “You’ve painted?”
He opens one eye and peeks at me. “Sure. In art class.”
We go quiet again for a moment and then he props himself up on his elbow. “Why do you always draw the ocean?”
I shrug. “There is something about the ocean that reminds me of freedom.”
“Someday we’re going to go there then,” he says matter-of-factly as he plops back down.
I swallow hard and while I appreciate his offer, and as much as I’d like to hold out hope that someday we could actually go to the beach, I don’t. In a few short days, once we clear the woods, lose the hunters, and make it past the full moon unscathed, I’ll be gone from his life forever.
As I glance at the boy spread out on the ground beside me I can’t deny that I’ve enjoyed his companionship and appreciate all he’s taught me over the last few days, but I also can’t deny that he’s becoming something more to me than I should have allowed.
