by Haley Weir
“So...you cannot be killed?”
“We thought so.”
Charlotte chewed the inside of her lip and stood up to join him. She glanced around bashfully before placing her hand on his hip to give him a bit of comfort. “Go on.”
“The curse was broken, but the prophecy still hung over our heads. The elders only reveal a little at a time to Itsá, and he tells us what he can. And the storm that brought you here was part of it. You...the four of you are supposed to be our mates. We’re supposed to form four packs with one male and one female alpha to ensure the continuation of our bloodlines to keep the wolf spirit alive.” Wesley turned toward Charlotte, and she saw the questions in his eyes.
“And how are you supposed to know who your mate is?”
“A bond will grow, and the wolf will mark the one it intends to claim,” he sighed. “After that, there’s only so much time before the urge to claim her completely will surface. I would run the risk of harming her if I lose control.”
“What happens if the urges are denied?” Charlotte flinched as Wesley stepped out of her reach. She folded her arms around her middle and tore her gaze away from him.
“There are only two ways we can die, Charlotte. One way is through the influences of another spirit, much like the weapons corrupted by the Wendigo Spirit. The second way is more complicated. If we fail to claim our mates, the wolf abandons us and possesses the female. She will grow stronger as our bodies grow weaker. After our death, she gains our power.”
Charlotte understood his unease, but not the distance between them. “Am I to think that you are hoping for Mary Ann or Beth to be your mate?”
“No.”
“But not me?”
“No.”
She did not know why his response left her feeling raw and heartbroken, but Charlotte could barely look at Wesley. “What do you want, Wesley? There are times when you look at me as though you wish for nothing more than to take me into your arms and then...this. Your rejection would not hurt so badly if you did not feed me scraps of your affection.”
Hands circled Charlotte’s waist, and Wesley rested his forehead on her shoulder. She felt the press of his chest against her back. “I ain’t trying to confuse you. Hell, I’m still trying to figure this whole thing out. A few months ago, I did not think there was anything that could kill me.”
Charlotte shoved him away. “So that’s it, then? Instead of fulfilling the prophecy, you want to end your life? Did it never cross your mind that by doing so, you could bring harm to one of us? The wolf spirit clearly needs a vessel, Wesley. The thing you are trying to avoid may very well happen anyway. Your selfishness astounds me.”
“My selfishness? What about yours?” Wesley shouted before catching himself. Charlotte watched him struggle to adjust his tone. “You just told me that you intend to leave your aunt behind to chase a dream you ain’t even got figured out yet, Charlotte. She gave you work and a home. Can’t you show a little gratitude?”
“I think scrubbing the floors, washing the linens, tending to the horses, cooking in the kitchens, and serving food to patrons—who would rather ogle my body than treat me as if I am human—for just a few coins a month is more than gratitude. And, to be frank, that home you are referring to is little more than a cot stuffed into a broom cupboard.”
She headed for the door once again.
“Charlotte, wait. I did not know—”
“Don’t bother following me this time, Wesley. I am grateful that my aunt gave me a place to hide away from the rest of the world, and I am grateful that you saved my life after the storm...” Charlotte paused in the doorway.
“But?”
“But I will never again be used. I will not allow myself to be the source of someone else’s entertainment when they do not have the decency to respect my feelings,” she whispered. Charlotte shut the door behind her and walked calmly to the stables, hitching a ride into town with one of the ranch hands. The wagon lurched forward a bit and then settled into a slow but bumpy ride back to Wolf Valley. All the while, Charlotte could not get Wesley James out of her head. How could anyone be so selfish?
Chapter Four
He watched the wagon roll down the road and punched the window. The glass shattered, and maids ran from the kitchen to see what was the matter. Wesley apologized and gave Mrs. Bloom the money needed to repair the break. She scolded him for nearly three minutes for his reckless behavior and sent him to Abigail’s office to patch himself up. He obeyed without argument. She was right...and so was Charlotte. Wesley was more than aware of his selfishness and hypocrisy, for he had no right to judge Sam when he intended to do something far more reckless than drink until his mind rotted away.
Wesley finished bandaging his hand, despising that his healing abilities did not work as well as they had before Ace had stabbed him in the chest with a corrupt blade. He walked over to the barn and fetched the bags that were prepared weeks ago by one of the stable boys. Wesley waved the young man over and slipped him a few extra dollars to show his appreciation, as well as a handwritten letter addressed to Boone and the others. He had no intention of returning and wanted it made clear that the others weren’t supposed to come after him.
The sun was still high enough to buy him some time. Anyone who saw him leaving the property would have most likely assumed he was headed out to check on the men patrolling the border of Boone’s ranch. Wesley whistled for Bronco and strapped his gear to the loyal steed. When all was said and done, he took one last look at the house and climbed into the saddle. Maids waved to him as he led Bronco from the stables. He returned the gesture in kind but kept his exchanges short, not wanting to arouse suspicion.
Wesley took his time as he made his way down the dirt road that led towards the mountain. Once the ranch was just barely visible over his shoulder, he took a sharp turn down an overgrown path that led towards the lake quarry where Markus Baker’s cabin had been set up. He rode for three days, finding nothing more than a few wayward tracks along the way. It did not come as a surprise. Most folks did not know about the paths that Wesley traveled, and that was the way he preferred it.
Bronco protested as Wesley attempted to steer him towards another hill. He chuckled and patted the horse’s side. “Alright, we’ll set camp. We’ve been taking it real slow, so I don’t know what your fuss is all about.” Wesley hopped out of the saddle and led Bronco towards a trickling stream nestled in the forest. They were close to the quarry, but he could not risk approaching the area before he knew for certain the outlaws had moved on. So, he focused on getting a fire started.
Everything was still a bit damp from the rain that came the night before. Wesley searched for dry kindling while Bronco sipped from the stream. When the camp was set and the fire cast an orange glow through the trees, Wesley allowed himself to relax upon his bedroll. Supper was a few dry biscuits and some beans. He scraped his tin and cleaned up the food before settling in for some sleep. In the back of his mind, he saw Charlotte’s face when he raised his voice at her. Wesley knew the signs of a battered woman, and he wanted to hunt down whoever hurt her.
Charlotte Woodberry was one of the last rays of light in Wesley’s miserable life. He adored everything about her, but he refused to allow himself to feel anything beyond friendly companionship. She was too good for him. Charlotte had the chance to live a normal life. Wesley did not want to be the man who ruined her, to be the thing that killed her smile and doused the fire in her eyes. He exhaled slowly, and sleep helped his mind drift.
Abigail stood over him, tearing open Wesley’s shirt as he writhed upon the cot. Her hands moved swiftly to assess his wounds, but he knew it was too late. He was dying. After nearly a century of agonizing loneliness and anger, life had finally slipped through his fingers. Darkness swarmed his head, breaking up the images that flashed before his eyes...
An angel stood above him, glowing in the faint light of the morning. Her beautiful humming lulled Wesley into a state of comfort. He reached out and entwi
ned their fingers together, feeling the softness of her skin as she smiled down upon him. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Wesley. Just fight through this...fight for me.”
Shadows came once more, stealing her away from him no matter how hard he tried to reach the angel...
Lips brushed against his temple, and Wesley opened his eyes to see that she had returned. And the woman was no angel, for the glowing creature with a loveliness that rivaled the heavens had been none other than Charlotte. “It was you. You saved me,” he slurred.
“I will always save you, my darling Wesley. You need only to ask.”
Wesley tossed and turned, cracking open his eyelids in hopes of banishing the guilt that lingered in his chest. He had given her hope. Each day that he visited, each time he whispered her name in a dark corner as she snuggled against him, each moment he came so close to kissing her that the sensation of her warm breath against his lips caused his body to tingle...it had all given Charlotte the impression that he had been interested in being with her romantically. Wesley hadn’t intended to hurt her, but that did not change the fact that he had.
~*~
Wolf Valley
“What do you mean, Wesley’s gone?” Charlotte shrieked. Jesse Porter’s hands shot up to cover his ears for a moment before pinning her with a harsh glare. She ignored him while setting the bucket of soapy water aside and climbing to her feet. “How long has he been gone? Why did no one tell me he left? Why didn’t he tell me he was leaving?”
Charlotte’s frantic movements were stopped when Jesse gently grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. “Calm down, Charlotte, you’re giving me a headache! Stop asking so many questions. I was hoping he told you where he was headed seeing as he did not feel the need to let any of us know in the letter.”
“There’s a letter? Let me see it.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he argued, releasing his hold on her shoulders.
“You tell me what’s in the letter or so help me, I’ll—”
“Look, I ain’t here to get into it with you. And, quite frankly, you don’t scare me as much as Abbey does seeing as you can’t fight or shoot to save your life, Charlotte,” Jesse pointed out. “If Wesley did not tell you where he was going, then there must have been a reason.”
“Did it never cross your mind to check the quarry?”
The cowboy leaned back with a perplexed expression on his face. Jesse was as handsome as they come, but Charlotte only had eyes for one pig-headed man, and it wasn’t Jesse. He scratched at his chin. “You think he went after that Wendigo Spirit?”
“Yes. And I know you will go after him, and I’m coming with you.” Charlotte wiped her hands on her apron and stormed towards the stairs. Jesse’s boots pounded against the wood as he tried to keep up with her.
“That ain’t happening, woman!”
She pushed open the small door that led to her makeshift quarters. Charlotte did not dare meet Jesse’s stare as she was not interested in seeing pity in his eyes. “Either you take me with you, or I go on my own. Wesley told me things before I left the ranch that I can’t stop hearing in my head. Please, Mr. Porter. I must go after him. I may not be as fierce as Abigail or Beth, but I can’t just sit here and worry.”
“If this is another of your attempts at going on an adventure…”
“It isn’t about that,” she huffed while shoving items into her bag. “I can’t fight, and I can’t shoot, but you can teach me along the way.” Charlotte pinned her hair up and squeezed into her coat. She gave Jesse’s chest a light shove and hurried back down the stairs. He had no choice but to follow as she walked right up to his stallion.
“You stop right there, Charlotte. Boone would kill me if I let you do this.”
“I am not above blackmail or extortion, Mr. Porter,” Charlotte said cunningly with an arch of her brow. “I would hate for Boone to hear that his brother has been allowed to drink the saloon dry despite his orders. Then again, I suppose his reaction would be more severe if he should learn of the fire Sam caused in the barn last week.”
“Boone knows there’s no stopping Sam when he gets into them moods.”
“Perhaps,” she snickered. “But I know for certain that he is unaware of how much time Sam has been spending with Mary Ann.” There it was: the tell-tale tick in Jesse’s jaw that gave him away every time. The cowboy grumbled something unintelligible and climbed into the saddle before yanking her up to settle behind him. “Thank you, Mr. Porter.”
“You won’t be thanking me when we’re neck-deep in wendigos or skinshifters.”
“Yes, I will, for I believe Wesley is worth whatever danger I face.”
“I hope you’re right because you’re not just betting your life on this: you’re betting mine too. Not to mention we’re three days behind Wesley and have no idea what path he took,” Jesse griped. “We need to stop for supplies before we head out. I want to make sure Mrs. Bloom can handle Sam while we’re away. I don’t need him burning down the house before Boone gets back.”
Charlotte smiled to herself, knowing his anger was more worry for his friend than anything that had to do with her. The men of Silver Fox Ranch were much closer than they liked to pretend. She held on tight and did as Jesse said until they reached the edge of town. A strange sensation began to unfurl inside of Charlotte. Her heart beat so violently that she was sure Jesse had been able to feel it against his back.
When the cowboy attempted to turn towards the mountains, causing the feeling inside of her to shift uncomfortably, Charlotte placed her hand over Jesse’s where they gripped the reins. “Wait...h-he did not go that way,” she said softly. “He took that path.” Her arm lifted, and her finger pointed past his head towards the overgrown shrubbery along the road.”
“There’s no way he got a horse through that. Can’t even tell if there’s a path or not.”
Charlotte did not wait to climb down from the saddle. Jesse shouted at her to be careful, but she crouched down by the bushes and pushed them aside. Sure enough, there were tracks embedded in the damp soil. Jesse’s curses turned into an irritable grunt as Charlotte smiled victoriously. “He went this way. Trust me.”
Chapter Five
Lake Quarry
Wesley rounded the corner, creeping along the side of Markus Baker's cabin. He kept his senses sharp as he pushed lightly on the door. Wesley listened for any noise before stepping over the threshold. He smelled rot and decaying flesh immediately. The boards beneath his feet creaked as he pushed forward. Wesley reached the bedroom and flipped his revolver from the holster. The click of the gun cocking reverberated through the cabin.
He used his elbow to nudge the door open.
Upon the bed was an unrecognizable dead body. Dark, crusted blood covered the sheets. Flies buzzed around the corpse. The stench was unbearable. Wesley covered his mouth and nose as he searched the cabin. Symbols had been carved into the walls, and jars of black powder were set up along the corners of the room. Wesley saw something unusual sticking out from beneath the bed and holstered his weapon. He pushed the bed aside and saw a shrine of some sort.
Chills raced down his spine, and the hairs on his arms stood on end.
Darkness swarmed the cabin like a shroud of shadow. Wesley heard a high-pitched screech that caused his ears to ring. He ran from the cabin. His head spun dangerously, and bile crawled up his throat. It felt as though something had reached down inside of him and toyed with his soul just to make him dance. Wesley collapsed onto his knees on the porch, trying to blink past the tears that blurred his vision. He pressed his hand to his stomach.
Black, soulless eyes stared at him from the trees.
Wesley tried to shake off the creature’s hold, but it was too strong.
A long arm reached out to him. Blood dripped from jagged claws, and the vile stench of blood caused his stomach to heave. Wesley let the power of the wolf flow, using his own strength to battle against the Wendigo Spirit for dominance. He threw his he
ad back and howled towards the sky until the creature shrank back out of sight.
Ragged breaths tore through Wesley’s chest as he crawled away from the cabin. He vomited off to the side and rinsed his mouth with a swig of water from the canister strapped to his hip. After his breathing returned to normal, Wesley pulled himself back to his feet and ran over to where the Wendigo Spirit had manifested. He saw no tracks on the ground, only large claw marks along the trunks of the trees.
Wesley returned to his horse only long enough to fetch his rifle and ammunition before he went after the hideous beast. The branches were arched in an unfamiliar pattern as he stooped low to pass through. It was as if the creature ran on its hands and feet like an ape. Wesley followed the marks until he saw the light of a fire filter through the trees. He stopped dead in his tracks and heard three voices above the crackling fire and the chirp of crickets in the night.
The scent of the Wendigo Spirit was near.
Wesley hunched lower and moved towards the treeline. Those eerie black eyes stared at him from across the camp, and his stomach dropped. He saw the creature tilt its head only moments before striking out at the innocent campers. Wesley leaped from his cover to protect the humans, but the warm spray of blood across his face caused him to recoil. A man shouted as the Wendigo Spirit devoured his wife. “Run!” Wesley shouted as he shifted into his wolf.
The man sprinted into the trees, but he was no match for the Wendigo Spirit.
Wesley attacked the creature to buy the man some time. The two women hadn’t stood a chance against such strength. He snapped his jaws at the Wendigo Spirit, drawing on the strength of the wolf to hold the creature at bay. The whistle of an arrow broke through Wesley’s concentration. He turned to face the noise just as an arrow struck him in the arm. Wesley went down hard. The familiar burn of the tainted weapon coursed through his veins. He had to stop it from spreading. Wesley shifted, reached for his belt, and ripped the arrow from his shoulder. He used the belt to tie off his arm to slow the spread of the corruption.
