Craved By Her Wolf: (Silverwood Island Shifters)

by Starr, Maia

  “Awesome!” Megan said, quickly stepping over and placing the folder on the counter. “Then here’s the documents for the rest of your patients today. All new; I’ve had anyone who made an appointment fill out electronic forms and email them to me.” Megan leaned closer. “It’s all their medical history, their family history, past doctor diagnoses, etc.”

  “Thank you, Megan,” Sam said, eyeing the bright young woman blinking back at her. “I only hired you as a few days ago, and yet you’ve already got things under control here.”

  Megan laughed happily, twirling a lock of her dirty-blonde hair. “It’s nothing! There aren’t that many people on the island, so it’s not a whole lot. I’m surprised you’re paying me as much as you are…” Megan’s smile dwindled as she gazed at Sam, the realization of her mistake dawning in her pretty features. “Ah, that isn’t what I meant.”

  “So you’re suggesting I should pay you less?” Sam said, smiling wide. It had been a while since she’d had fun messing with a new assistant; they didn’t come around very often. “I can make that change, save myself some money…”

  Megan chuckled nervously, her shoulders squeezing in. Suddenly a wave of regret washed over Sam, and she sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m only joking, Megan. As if I’d actually lower your pay just because you said something about it...you do good work. You definitely make my life easier.”

  “Aw, really?” Megan said, stepping back and sitting down in the seat Connor had just occupied. “Honestly, I’ve never really done anything like this before, so I’m glad it’s working out.”

  “Really? Could have fooled me,” Sam said, opening the folder and spreading out the sheets. Her eyes glanced over the papers as she listened to Megan’s response.

  “Did you have a lot of assistants where you worked last?” she asked quickly.

  “Something like that.”

  “Where did you work?” Megan continued. “Did you come from Seattle? Tacoma? California? From the Midwest?” Cocking her head, Megan eyed Sam with a gleam in her eyes, like a child endlessly asking her parents about something. Sam suddenly regretted not ending the conversation quickly.

  “Tacoma,” Sam said simply, leaning back against the counter again. “I came from Tacoma.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  A myriad of answers sprang to her mind, each too grueling and too depressing for Sam to voice. She thought for a moment as to how to answer, staring blankly at the papers in her hand. There wasn’t any need to lie, right? Megan didn’t need to know the full story, but she could at least hear part of it, something definitive to calm her questioning.

  “To escape my old life,” Sam said slyly, forcing a smug grin on her lips. “I wanted to change locations, start a new life. Silverwood Island was my chance to get away, and so I took it...and so far, it’s been the best choice of my life.”

  Megan gawked at her boss, her jaw hanging open as if she’d just discovered gold. Shit, Sam thought, was that too much to tell her? Had Sam just opened up a thousand new questions for Megan to barrage her with? She hoped not, but the dazzling expression on Megan’s face told her otherwise.

  As soon as Megan’s mouth opened with what Sam guessed was yet another inquiry into her private life, a ding rang out from the front, informing them both that a customer had just walked in. Sam sighed in relief as Megan jumped from her seat and walked out, winking at Sam as she went. Her loud, youthful voice echoed in the halls as Sam’s assistant greeted the patients walking in the door. Sam found herself thanking whatever power may be for the intervention. Lord only knows how much Sam needed the rest.

  Just relax, Sam, she told herself. Dean isn’t here, and he won’t find you. He won’t.

  Soon enough, an old woman was led into her office, and Sam’s mind clicked into her professional mode once again.

  Silverwood Island was Sam’s salvation for the time being. She just hoped it would stay that way.↡¶

  Chapter Two

  Brendan darted through the brush as leaves broke from the branches above and spun slowly to the soft earth below. Only once a year was Brendan able to view the beginning of autumn, the crisp red and gold leaves crinkling beneath his feet as he walked peacefully through the glades in the forests of Silverwood Island. The cold air ruffled his matted light brown fur as he squinted against the breezes blowing into his face. Growling low, Brendan didn’t slow, racing over the slopes and hills, slipping in between the myriad of pine trees, dashing past the rivers and small ponds filled from the most recent rainfall.

  A mixture of smells caught his nose as he ran, all swirling around as his breath fogged slightly around him. He smelled the stench of fearful deer and crazy squirrels, and the sweet scent of raspberries on bushes he darted past. There was more to discern, though he didn’t have the time stop and think.

  Normally Brendan would take his time as he bounded through the island, watching and observing the creatures he called his neighbors. Rushing was a sin to him, an act of utter laziness. To enjoy life and appreciate the world around him, he needed to take his time. Every fall season started out lovely and peaceful, though this year was setting up to be anything but.

  Peace? Please, he thought. There wouldn’t be any peace this year it seemed, if Connor’s word had any grain of truth to it.

  It was his best friend’s word that had caused panic to surface in the wolf shifter’s mind, Brendan’s imagination running wild at the thought of his rival arriving back on the island he’d forsaken two years prior. What was the mad man thinking? Would his rival’s pack accept the alpha back after so long? The answer should have been obvious, and yet Brendan couldn’t come up with the answer; that worried him beyond normal reason.

  Dean Mondego was insane, a tornado of violence waiting to be unleashed on the island and Red Wing Town. If the rumors were true, Brendan hated to think about how quickly the first drops of blood would soak the earth.

  Soon enough, Brendan sniffed the first signs of his pack, spying the wood and brick homes in the distance as he crested a ridge, stopping only momentarily to look out over his land.

  The Bedrock stretched far on the island, following the bends and dips of the layered forest. Steam rose from some of the chimneys sticking up among the treetops, creating gray clouds above some of the houses. If Brendan squinted his amber eyes, he could see individuals peeking through the land below, dancing and mingling amongst themselves: his packmates. His eyes drifted down the land until they came to rest upon a large lodge seemingly built into the side of the cliff. That lodge was his destination, and as soon as he saw it, he darted off, panting and placing his steps as he carefully descended the land.

  In no time he reached the edge of the Bedrock, a simple half mile from the lodge he meant to arrive at. Stopping near a tight cluster of trees, Brendan shifted into his human body, allowing it to flex and contract as he went from four paws to two feet. Because of the rainfall, the earth had become slick with mud, and so the soles of his feet became caked as he stepped into the cluster. Grabbing at a satchel hidden inside a hollow log, Brendan grunted as he wrenched it out, ripping it open and snatching out his clothes. Dressing in the jeans, boots and simple crew-neck shirt he’d stuffed only hours prior, he turned to leave, tossing the satchel over his shoulder as he ran off, not caring that the mud on his soles dirtied the inside of his boots.

  The first person he saw was none other than Connor himself, leaning against a tree and balancing a large hunting knife on his finger. His finger swayed and the blade dropped, the wolf shifter’s eyes watching it closely as it tumbled down, the point aiming at his toes. Brendan lurched forward and snatched the hunting knife out of the air, just before it landed into the top of Connor’s foot. Stunned, Connor straightened as Brendan frowned.

  “You shouldn’t be playing with knives, Connor, especially since the last time you did you nearly severed your toe,” Brendan said, walking past. Connor scurried to catch up.

  “The keyword there is nearly,” the shifter said, eyeing B
rendan. After another few seconds of Brendan’s silence, he spoke again. “You got here quickly.”

  “Of course I did,” Brendan snorted. “It’s not every day we hear about Mondego’s return to Silverwood.” Eyeing his friend, Brendan held out the hunting knife. “Did you send word to the other shifters on the island?”

  “Yes, sir,” Connor said with a grin. “I already have three shifters out and about, telling anyone that needs to know about your rival’s return. Including the one I sent to find you.”

  Brendan frowned even deeper at the word rival. “Everyone needs to know, Connor. Dean won’t just stop with our pack.”

  “With all due respect, Brendan, there are many people on the island that aren’t shifters. Even we can’t just go around flaunting our true nature like it’s common knowledge.”

  Our true nature, eh? Brendan thought. What was the true nature of a wolf shifter? Was it to be wild and menacing like Dean Mondego portrayed, or was there more to the average shifter than simple animalistic instincts? At the thought, Brendan’s inner wolf growled and crashed against its cage, the side effect of being a lone wolf for so long. He clutched his chest at the sudden palpitations, gritting his teeth, causing a look of worry to cross Connor’s face.

  “Are you okay?” his friend asked, matching his stride. “I took Ace over to that new doctor earlier...she was good, helped us pretty quickly. If you feel like we should postpone this meeting until another day…”

  Doctor? Brendan had heard something of the sort. People all over this half of the island had been gossiping about the woman who’d arrived only a week prior. Whoever she was, she certainly was certainly the newest celebrity of the island. “No, I’m fine,” Brendan growled, marching ahead. “We don’t have time to ignore the threat Mondego poses. We need a plan, and we need to act on it now, or else we could very well see bloodshed between our pack and his.”

  Connor frowned but nodded and followed his alpha in silence until they broke through the treeline and stepped out into the large glade where the lodge jutted out. Already a group of shifters was gathered around the lodge’s entrance, each mingling close together and frantically speaking to each other. Good. A wave of silence rippled through the crowd as Brendan approached, his natural gait bringing him before the largest group in no time. Every pair of eyes locked onto him as the voices faded, each staring blankly. Then the barrage came, with the shifters crowding Brendan, trying to get their stories across.

  “They’ve attacked my son!” one elderly shifter said.

  “My garden was burned to a crisp, nearly started a forest fire!” a man shouted.

  “We should pay them back in full!” a younger woman screamed. A chorus of agreement resounded around them.

  He bit his lip, eyeing the crowd around him. For as long as Brendan could remember, his pack had warred with the one on the other side of Red Wing Town, bickering and brawling practically every other week. Once Dean Mondego took over as alpha, the violence had only worsened, causing the island to be stained red with blood. Then he left, and the violence ended. But now Dean was suddenly back, already straining the taut peace Brendan had created. Twitching with pure frustration, Brendan turned to the crowd. “Everyone, calm down!” Brendan shouted, silencing the glade instantly. “We are not resorting to violence so quickly. Not yet.”

  “Brendan is right,” Connor announced, standing tall beside his alpha. “We need to think about this first, make a plan, cut the weed at its source.”

  “We go after Mondego himself,” Brendan called, seeing the array of nodding heads in the crowd. “Without him, we have peace. It is that simple.” Motioning at a few familiar faces in the crowd, he shoved his way forward to the front of the lodge. “For the time being, everyone, go home and lock your doors. We’ll think about what to do and inform you all later. Cool down, and watch out for yourselves.”

  The crowd grumbled and reluctantly disbanded, but disband they did. A path was formed quickly to the front door, and so Brendan marched forward and stepped inside, finding himself in a long hallway. Dipping into the first room he saw, he pulled up a chair and collapsed into it, running a hand down his face. A group of five other shifters entered after him, Connor in the mix, each pulling up a chair to the wooden table.

  “Alright, so let’s not waste any time,” Brendan said as the group eyed him. “Who’s got an idea on how to deal with Dean and his pack?”

  One woman leaned forward, her eyes hard and displaying the anger of his entire pack. She had been the one to speak up about fighting back. “We beat the shit out of Dean Montego,” she said simply.

  “Right, because that won’t backfire in the slightest,” Brendan said, unable to soften the sarcastic edge to his voice.

  The woman winced and sunk back into her chair.

  Connor raised his hand next, his handsome eyes glistening with a spark. Brendan groaned. “This isn’t school, Connor; just speak already.”

  “We confront Dean,” he said, lowering his hand and ignoring the snickers of two other shifters. “Try to reason with him first. We tell him to leave our pack alone or to leave Silverwood. If he dissents, well, then we teach him a lesson. That asshole needs to learn we won’t tolerate his little games anymore.”

  A round of agreement surged through the room. Even Brendan liked the plan, though he still stroked his chin in thought. If Brendan brought everyone in this room with, things would sour quickly between him and Dean. If he actually wanted to get through to his rival, he’d need to speak to the man alone. And if things did take a turn for the worse, then Brendan would have Dean to pummel all to himself.

  The thought brought forth a primal desire in Brendan, a sign of his growing madness. Clutching his wrist, he pictured the moment he’d witnessed a shifter go feral when he was a child. The feral shifter had been mateless, a lone wolf, and unable to contain the beast inside him. It was the fate of all mateless wolf shifters, with Brendan being no exception. He could feel the tendrils of wrath creep up under his skin, reaching to overtake his mind. Dean Mondego was probably in a similar situation, which is where his violent madness came from.

  “Fine then,” Brendan said. “We’ll go with Connor’s idea...but I’ll confront Mondego alone.” Brendan earned the ire of most of the eyes in the room, with the exception of Connor. “It’s my decision as alpha. He’s my problem to deal with, and if things go wrong, I’ll make sure none of you get harmed in the battle between us. The rest of you will stay in the Bedrock for the time being. Understood?” Many of the shifters in the room clicked their tongues or turned away, but all nodded. Sighing and rising to his feet, Brendan made towards the door. “Good.”

  “If you end up pummeling him, be sure to inform Doctor Byrd about any injuries you might sustain,” Connor called as Brendan left. “The new one in town.”

  Brendan paused to smile at Connor, and then turned and left.

  This was the second time now that this new doctor had crossed his ears that day. Doctor Byrd...he thought, picturing a woman with glasses and buck-teeth. He couldn’t say why he thought of that image, but for some reason, the thought of a new face in town calmed him. Maybe he’d have to pay this new doctor a visit after he dealt with Mondego.↡¶

  Chapter Three

  Brendan

  The Bedrock was only half an hour from the border of Red Wing Town, a simple trip for anyone. Normally the trail to and from was a beautiful treat for the eyes, and in a shifter’s case, the senses.

  From the edge of the Bedrock, a two-person wide path wound through the forest. It zigzagged through pines and fir trees, where one could bask in the heavy smell of pine-like air. On a damp day like today, the air was especially thick and cold, and one gulp could cool one’s entire system. Further on, the trail became wooden, rising to a short bridge until hitting the side of a hill. On that hill were at least four dozen steps, what some people could call an extremely brief workout. For Brendan, though, they were just a few steps, and he bounded up within moments after speed walking acros
s the bridge.

  He just couldn’t help himself. Brendan bristled as he traveled between his pack’s home and the human town that marked the edge of his territory, every hair standing on edge. It wasn’t as if he were scared about confronting his rival, but more concerned. Dean Montego was not easy to get along with. He was eerily manipulative, starting off by trying to be friendly to someone until he was close enough to take advantage. Brendan had seen it happen before, especially to women. He’d only seen a relationship last maybe a month at best between Dean and another female shifter, the women always running away with tears wetting their cheeks and bruises all over their bodies.

  The very thought made his heart quicken, making his inner wolf howl for release upon seeing the alpha wolf shifter. It took everything Brendan had to stay sane on his journey into Red Wing Town, watching the northern cardinals chirp and buzz overhead. Soon enough, he reached the edge of Red Wing Town, stopping just behind one of the many brick buildings lining the sloping street out front. Crisp red, yellow and brown leaves littered the ground, marking his path forward from the dirt to the first slab of concrete around the side of the building. Up ahead, voices called out to each other as individuals and couples passed by in front of his amber eyes. He waited a few moments, readying himself mentally for the confrontation he’d hopefully have with Dean Montego sometime soon.

  More than likely, Brendan would spot the alpha wolf prowling his own grounds, since he’d just arrived back. But there was a chance that Dean wouldn’t have been able to sit still, just like Brendan, and would be stalking the streets of Red Wing Town. He’d have to keep his eyes peeled.

  Taking a deep breath and exhaling, Brendan walked forward, shoving his hands into his jean pockets as she sauntered casually onto the street, mixing easily with the few people strolling around him.

  Just like the name suggested, Red Wing Town relied heavily on one color in particular. Red streaks were everywhere, even if he disregarded the myriad of northern cardinals inhabiting the treetops, chimneys and power lines. Almost every building included a shade of red in their color palette. From the barbershop to the Save-A-Dollar convenience store to the lone auto-repair shop on the island.