Wild Heart

by C. R. Jane

  An ear-piercing whistle cut through the noise. “Enough and sit your asses down,” Daxon barked, his voice dark and authoritative, coming from somewhere to my right where I couldn’t see the back of the hall.

  All those standing instantly flopped back down as if his command was law, and a heavy blanket of silence fell over the room.

  Daxon emerged into my line of sight, approaching Wilder at the front of the crowd. He was dressed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved tee, his muscles filling out his clothes. He was freaking beautiful in that dangerous kind of way that told me I shouldn’t feel anything for him. “We can’t lose our heads, even if we don’t agree with Wilder’s draconian approach.” He then turned to Wilder and whispered something just between them.

  Whatever he said caused Wilder’s nostrils to flare and his shoulders bunched up, his eyes alight with fury.

  My heartbeat sped up, having seen that look last time the two exchanged blows in the inn.

  “I’m getting really sick of your shit,” Wilder spat back at Daxon, and now the two were facing each other, seemingly forgetting the rest of the town watched. Maybe they didn’t care, as this was how it had been between the two powerhouses for what seemed like a very long time.

  A scraping sound came from behind me, and my veins turned to ice as I whipped around.

  Darkness greeted me, and the wind blew a piece of garbage down the road. I closed my eyes for a second. Calm down, Rune.

  It was hard enough breathing as I spied on the town residents wanting to condemn me, let alone every little sound now making me jump. The tips of my fingers curled as I jammed them into the pockets of my jeans and turned back to the door.

  An explosion of growls echoed from inside so suddenly, I flinched backward. My heartbeat boomed.

  Thundering sounds and growls came from within the room, the screech of chairs against the floorboards resonated, and someone even screamed.

  I rushed forward, not thinking, and pushed open the door to the town hall. I stood in the doorway, my mouth agape as I stared at the chaotic war that had taken over a room where seconds earlier, there had been only calm.

  People were on their feet, some pushing away from the front stage while others ran toward it. My legs trembled, but for once, I ignored my fear and ran forward. Already, I caught glimpses of Daxon and Wilder in a fight, punches flying, blood spilled. My stomach plummeted, my heart crushing beneath the weight of dread. I didn’t want them fighting for me… They had to stop before someone got hurt.

  Goosebumps raced up my arms as I shoved past people who ran in every direction.

  Someone snatched my arm and squeezed, glaring down at me with disgust. “Are you happy now?” He spat the words at me, his fingers digging into my flesh.

  I winced and pulled against him. “Let me go.”

  “You’ll bring our town to its knees and destroy it.”

  “I didn’t kill Eve,” I retorted, sick and tired of being wrongly accused.

  “Maybe you didn’t, but it didn’t stop you from igniting a flame between the two Alphas of this town. And now they’ll burn down the place and all of us in it to claim you as their own. As far as I’m concerned, you might as well have killed that poor girl, as you’ll send us all to our deaths.”

  Well, that seemed a bit dramatic.

  I shuddered anyway, my legs weakening beneath me as the crowd stole the man from my sight.

  I tried to swallow, to think straight, but it was difficult with all the insanity around me.

  Boots tapped the floorboards around me as people ran and tried to leave the town hall, while others only gathered around the battle instead of stopping it.

  My skin pricked with electricity, with the magic of a wolf’s transformation. I jerked my head up to the sight of Wilder and Daxon in their wolf forms. They were enormous and terrifying, Daxon’s fur white as snow, while Wilder was the color of midnight. They were the opposite in every possible way. Lips peeled back, ears pressed flat against their heads, they lunged at each other, crashing like two mountains going to war.

  Desperation shoved me forward, and I speared through the throng of people in my way. I had to reach Wilder and Daxon to put a stop to this.

  I wasn’t the kind of girl these two should be fighting over. They’d clearly lost their minds.

  I finally stumbled free from the crowd and burst into the circle watching the fight. Most cheered, others growled like they waited for the signal to join in. Was everyone mad in this town?

  “Stop,” I bellowed, my throat raw and my eyes stinging.

  Wilder’s gaze snapped in my direction, a threatening growl in his throat, one for me to back away. I knew that sound all too well. Blood seeped from the side of his head, but he wasn’t relenting.

  Daxon took that moment to smash into Wilder, and in a split second, they hit the ground, entwined with one another, fur and fangs and blood all I could see. Rivulets of red were left in their wake, staining the floorboards.

  The air was charged with rage, and I let out a sudden cry, anything to grab their attention, to reach their damn ears. “Please, stop fighting.” My words came out choked, just as Wilder took a sharp bite of Daxon’s neck.

  Their fierce battle had me lunging toward them. I knew better than to try to stop fighting wolves. But my head spun with confusion, with anger, with grief, and I ran right into Wilder’s side, my hands shoving into his ribs with enough force to dislodge him from Daxon.

  I recoiled just as fast, but not quick enough as Wilder spun around, savagery in his eyes. In that same moment, he lunged at me, something changed his eyes, something so deep, that I recognized the human side of him seeing me for who I was at the last moment…not an enemy. In that minuscule split second when my heart attempted to burst out of my chest and panic froze me in the spot at him coming at me, we both knew there was no way he could pull back.

  He slammed into my gut with the force of a tank, and I flew backward, crashing into the spectators, catching my fall. I cried out from the agony that emptied my lungs of oxygen.

  Wilder stumbled and hit the ground, tripping over with me. I gasped for air, tangled with him and those bystanders we’d crashed into. Something sharp scraped and tore into my arm so fast and painfully, I cried out and flinched back.

  But everything happened too fast after that. One moment, I lost my footing, and the next, Wilder flew back toward Daxon, who came at him with the full force of a tornado.

  I scrambled back to my feet while those around me growled their anger, and someone even shoved me in the back. But I didn’t care about them. Frustration and anger poured through me at how powerless I was to do anything about…well, anything.

  I glanced down to my arm to where the red rolled down my hand and over my fingers, blood dripping to the floor. A great gash had torn my skin from Wilder’s accidental attack. But with it, something inside me shifted, something I’d never felt before.

  A sudden boom of snarls rocked the room, and I wrenched my head up to see Daxon throwing Wilder down to the ground. The crowd cheered, thrusting their fists into the air.

  A fiery anger rose through me, overwhelming and destructive. I glanced around, lower members of the two packs who were not near the fight looked scared for their lives.

  The click of nails hitting the floorboards rang as the pair kept fighting. These two were relentless.

  I was pushed and shoved as people continued to clamor around me. “Fuck off,” someone threw at me.

  I stumbled backward and into someone else who nudged me aside.

  Fire erupted within me, unfamiliar and overwhelming. I felt ready to rip someone apart.

  Darkness took me over, stealing all the light inside me. In its place, a silence permeated in my head. The kind that shook me, that had me sensing my wolf like never before.

  A brush of fur. A growl. A fury unlike anything I’ve ever felt. The wound on my arm stabbed deep, making me wince. When the two alphas rolled right past me, I screamed my fury.

  “Sto
p!” The room seemed to tremble beneath me with how hard I breathed and trembled, with a scorching heat licking the back of my neck.

  My insides clenched tight as so many feelings punched me in the gut, leaving me ragged. When someone knocked me aside, I snapped my head up, my teeth gnashing, lips pulled back at them.

  The edges of my visions feathered, and I had no idea what was happening to me. The room spun, and I gripped the back of a chair for balance. I’d worked myself up so much, it felt like I’d lost control.

  Something new lingered in the air. I tasted it on the back of my throat, bitter and metallic.

  I burned up, my breaths sawing in and out of my chest, my injured arm stinging horrendously. While in my chest, fury bubbled to the point where I wanted to rip my own skin off to unleash my wolf, to tear into someone, to feel the warm trickle of blood on my throat.

  Something was happening to me.

  A sudden, excruciating jab to the side had me crying out, and I turned to see someone had tossed a chair at me. Around me, everyone else in the town hall had now turned on each other, throwing chairs and punches alike. The battle grew fierce, and the air was tainted with so much hatred, I had to get out before I was the one who did something crazy. On cue, my lips curled as if something else controlled me.

  Even Carrie was fighting, except the scene around me was very wrong. She didn’t seem the kind to take on someone half her age, but her growls and wolf eyes promised death.

  “Carrie,” I called to her. “Don’t do this. You need to get out of here. Everyone needs to fucking stop this.”

  But the louder my voice grew, the more they growled and attacked each other, as if my words encouraged them. Which was ridiculous.

  I pushed myself away from the chaos, my steps blurring, and my insides were being ripped into different directions. I wanted to cry for Eve’s loss, stand up for myself against these wolves, and knock some damn sense into Daxon and Wilder.

  Bursting outside, the cool air washed over me like I’d awakened from a dream, the fog clearing from my head.

  Stumbling on the front steps, I looked back inside to where disorder reigned. This was madness, and if this was how the packs in this town settled anything, they were doing a great job of destroying themselves with the hatred they carried for one another.

  A deep vibration jolted up my injured arm, a cruel jarring pain that had me wincing. I stared at my arm, at the blood dripping over my fingers. I needed to find a doctor, I was pretty sure I could see my bone.

  Except as I watched the wound, it seemed to be getting smaller.

  I frantically wiped the blood from my forearm, certain I was imagining things.

  I watched in bewilderment as the injury closed up before my eyes, the skin knitting back together.

  “Shit. How is this happening?”

  Then it was gone. I kept running my hand over the skin that no longer hurt, that felt smooth to the touch. My heart thundered, pushing dread into my veins. I’d only ever healed like a human. This was…well, this was definitely new.

  A shadow fell over me, and I lifted my head to find Daxon standing before me. He only wore his jeans stained with blood, while his chest was marred with cuts and bruises, his face not faring any better. More blood smeared his skin, and yet he just stared at my healed arm.

  I swallowed hard, lowering my arm instantly.

  “How did you heal so fast? Not even I can do that,” he asked.

  I was shaking my head as my stomach squeezed. “I-I don’t know.” I backed away from him, hating the way he stared at me like suddenly he saw a different part of me…one that might be hiding abilities capable of killing another shifter.

  He reached out and grabbed my hand, then ran a finger tenderly over my skin where the wound had been moments earlier. A tingle buzzed from his touch and ran through my body, leaving me breathless. When I watched the way he studied my arm, I remembered the times we’d spent together, him taking me out to dinner for Creole food, sharing his cake with me, his kisses completely stealing me away. Then he’d showed me his true colors when I tried to leave this place. A part of me worried his golden exterior held something a lot darker than I first thought, and now I wasn’t so sure about things between us.

  “Rune,” he began, almost sounding concerned. “I’ve never seen anyone heal this fast. What are you?”

  Tears stung my eyes, and my chest felt like it might be cleaving in half. I’d been different my whole life, but to have him ask that question was like prying open my chest and tearing me apart.

  My mind raced, searching for an explanation, for anything to tell him, but nothing came out. Instead, my thoughts spun with dread because I didn’t need another complication. I knew who I was. I was nothing. I didn’t know how to process any other reality.

  I pulled my arm from Daxon’s grip, but his hand constricted, holding me by his side. “Don’t be afraid of it.” His words were gentle, yet my mind drowned in confusion.

  “I need to go,” I finally said and drew free from his grip.

  “Rune,” he said, stepping after me as I recoiled.

  “No, please no. Just leave me alone.” I jerked from his reach and then ran all the way back to the inn, terrified of what was going on with me.

  5

  Rune

  It was my first day of work since Eve’s death.

  And everything felt wrong.

  Everything reminded me of Eve, and I had to stop myself a few times from looking over to ask her a question. Which was dumb. But I guessed it had already become a habit to bullshit with the sunny blonde all day while we were working.

  Sorrow churned in my gut for what felt like the thousandth time, cloaking me and settling onto my shoulders until I felt like the world had darkened around me.

  It was a strange thing, to mourn so much for an almost stranger. I thought part of me was mourning the loss of a fresh start. Eve had been my first friend, a symbol of the possibilities of this place. With her gone…and with the town turned against me…

  Not to mention the killer lurking somewhere around.

  Oh, and my weird new healing power that had sprung up.

  Things had taken a turn for the worse.

  The whole town was on pins and needles, especially after the disastrous town hall meeting. Neighbors who had once been friends now glared at each other suspiciously as they passed by. Fights between pack members were frequent, and fights between the Bitten and Lycan packs…they were nonstop. I hadn’t had any one-on-one time with Wilder or Daxon since my encounter with Daxon the night of the town hall incident, a week ago. Any time I saw them in the street, they looked tense, haggard…exhausted. I knew from Jim and Carrie that they’d been working round the clock to try and calm the town down, a feat in itself since they’d also been ready to tear each other’s throats out.

  I tried not to miss Wilder…or Daxon. I tried not to read into their silence or the fact that they weren’t around. I mean, why would some girl they’d been after mean much compared to the safety of their packs and the life they’d built for them?

  See what I mean? I was spiraling.

  The problem was that I’d had a lot of free time the last few days. I was supposed to work two days after Eve’s death, but Marcus had let me know that the diner was basically a ghost town with everyone keeping to themselves, and they didn’t need the help. I could hear the worry in his voice as he spoke to me, but surprisingly, I didn’t hear any suspicion…or judgment.

  If I hadn’t already made up my mind that Marcus was good people, I would have then.

  Without anything to do, and the fact that I couldn’t go near the woods and run, I was restless. I tried old Sudoku puzzles that Carrie had lying around downstairs, and I’d tried to do push-ups in my room and even go on walks, daring everyone to glare at me as I passed them by.

  But that insane urge to run, the one that I’d never experienced before coming here…it didn’t go away.

  I would lie in my bed at night, tossing and turning, s
weat dripping down my spine as I fought the urge. It would be ridiculous…insane, to put myself at risk out there. But I knew in the back of my mind that I wouldn’t be able to resist forever. There was something inside of me that had to feel the freedom that running had begun to make me feel. It was a need, not a want. I would just have to push it off for as long as possible.

  When I did eventually fall asleep, my dreams had been filled with nightmares of Eve’s lifeless eyes staring into the heavens and of the shadow creature in the woods.

  Let’s just say I wasn’t looking like a well-adjusted, well rested woman at the moment.

  I shook my head at my distracted thoughts when I realized I was pouring the water from my pitcher onto the table instead of the man’s cup. The man in question glared at me as some of the water began to run into a rather awkward place on his lap. I started wiping down the table, my rag moving automatically to help with the water that had dripped on him until I realized I was about to wipe the man’s crotch. He stared at me wide-eyed. I flicked my gaze to his dinner companion and realized with horror that he must be with his wife. She obviously thought I was trying to come on to her husband and looked like she was a second away from sticking her dinner knife into my jugular.

  I quickly pulled my hand away from the stranger’s, unfortunately, rising dick and backed away with my hands held up beseechingly to ward off any attack. “Let me get you some cheese sticks…on the house,” I blurted out before scurrying away.

  Licia was behind the bar today, and she was biting her lip and shining the same glass vigorously as she tried to contain her laughter. She’d obviously been watching me make a complete fool of myself.

  “Don’t say anything,” I warned her as I typed in an order of cheese sticks into the diner computer, trying to stop blushing from embarrassment.

  “You should have seen your face,” she said with a snort as she wiped a tear from her cheek. “Maybe we should add massages as an extra dinner option. Harold looked like he’d be down for it.”