Desert Rose

by Anna Lowe

  Guilt weighed heavily over Axel’s doubts. Did he even have the right to drag the wolves into a javelina fight? It would be a fight to the death, and if one of his friends took the slightest misstep… How could he ever live with that?

  We’ve got this, my mate, Beth murmured in his mind, and he snapped his head around to look at her. We’ve got this.

  Her muzzle was stretched forward, her tail held erect in a nothing-will-stop-me stance. Determination fueled her unflagging stride, and her eyes were narrow and dark.

  He’d never seen Beth look so…so fierce. Intense, yes. Passionate, yes. But all-out warrior? Never.

  She crooked the corner of her mouth at him in a grim wolf smile. Nothing will stop us, my mate.

  The little wisps of uncertainty that had always clung to his careful, quiet librarian were gone. The worried, are-you-sure-you-really-love-me-the-way-I-love-you look in her eyes was gone, too, replaced by the unyielding determination of a soldier.

  He glanced at the other wolves, baring their teeth with steely resolve. An outsider would have thought they were rushing to rescue their own pack, not a stranger’s.

  Tina growled as she ran. Not a stranger. You’re one of our own.

  Beth charged around a cluster of tumbleweeds and hammered on, undeterred by the rocky terrain or the distance ahead. He’d never have thought she’d be in such a rush for a fight.

  She turned back and shook her head. Not rushing into a fight. Rushing into our future.

  And just like that, a switch went off in his mind. He growled and picked up the pace, even though it meant leaving Gunther behind. The sooner he met his fate, the sooner he could claim his future.

  If they survived.

  They ran for what seemed like hours under the pale winter sky. Heads down, hearts pounding, lungs aching. Then they hammered around a bend in the creek they’d been following, and suddenly, there it was.

  Broken Hill, Rae murmured, sending the thought into everyone’s mind.

  Broken Hill. Axel nodded to himself. A steep-walled, cinder-hued butte rose out of nowhere and stood like a fortress in the middle of dusty plains. A fortress besieged by a dozen bristling javelinas who turned and sniffed the air.

  Axel! His mother’s voice sounded in his mind, and he charged on as others joined her. He could just about make out the faces—some human, some javelina—peering down from their place of refuge. The voices were joyous and relieved at first, but the first cries of alarm quickly followed.

  So few? Where is Lothar?

  Fight first. Beth spoke into his mind. Explain later.

  For the hundredth time, Axel decided there was a lot javelinas could learn from wolves. His hooves pounded the ground, and the Kruesmann pack, scattered around the base of the hill, snorted in surprise at the counterattack.

  Axel gritted his teeth and charged straight toward the attackers, bellowing in anger.

  The Kruesmann boars hustled closer to each other and stood shoulder to shoulder. They pawed the ground, and Axel roared again, so loud, it echoed back off the butte.

  Stand down now or die!

  He almost didn’t recognize his own voice. It was that low, that murderously sincere.

  A ripple of nervousness went through the enemy, while an echoing bellow rose from the east.

  Axel!

  His head whipped around at the sound of his cousin’s voice. Three beefy javelinas sprinted his way.

  We came as quickly as we could… his cousin hastened to explain as he ran into position along Axel’s right side. But don’t they outnumber us?

  Not any more, they don’t, Axel snorted back.

  With his cousins, they were four javelinas and six wolves against the twelve slack-jawed Kruesmann boars going wide-eyed at the foot of Broken Hill. Technically, Axel’s band might have been outnumbered, but the wolves’ fighting spirit tipped the scales in their favor. Axel could smell the surprise among the Kruesmanns, the cloud of doubt.

  Hold the line! the scarred leader of the Kruesmann pack called to his wavering band.

  Beth bayed and her packmates joined in with a bloodcurdling howl. Hold the line if you dare.

  The Kruesmann boars were only a hundred yards away. Fifty. Thirty…

  Axel lowered his head and thundered forward. He’d never run that fast before. Never gathered so much brute strength and aimed it at an enemy with such ferocity. Even the hellhound fight hadn’t had quite the same urgency to it, because Beth hadn’t been at his side then.

  All the more reason to fight like he’d never fought before. Beth ran half a step behind him, half a step ahead of the other wolves, her lips bared back to the gums.

  With a bone-rattling crash, he hammered into the enemy.

  Bodies flew. A cheer went up from above—his packmates, up on the butte. His right tusk tore through flesh, and the sweet scent of blood filled his nose. Wolf snarls filled the air, followed by squeals of incredulity from the enemy.

  Axel swept right through the line of attackers, scattering them, and immediately wheeled for another pass. Beth turned on a dime, following him.

  He almost grinned, understanding her strategy. He was the battering ram; she was the knight who rode through in his wake, slashing with sword-sharp claws. Grunts of shock turned to squeals of pain as the enemy wavered under the assault.

  “Stand your ground! Stand your ground!” old Rudiger Kruesmann grunted in boar-tongue.

  If you dare, the wolves shot back in a single, earth-shaking howl.

  Axel’s feet took on wings as he hammered through pass after thundering pass. His legs should have been crying for rest, but he barely felt them. Barely felt anything but the weight of the foes he battered aside. Smell was the only sense assaulting him from all sides; the others were muted, letting him focus entirely on the fight.

  But something tangled his feet, and he careened to the ground not two yards away from Rudiger Kruesmann’s scarred face. Ivory flashed as the boar lowered his head and charged.

  Axel scrambled at the dirt, but he couldn’t get up in time. He could see the triumph in his enemy’s eyes, the lethal curve of his tusks.

  It should have been the end. It was the end. He didn’t even have time for regret, just a dull flash of emotion lacking a name tag. He was going to die—

  A scream split the air, and a dark shape rocketed at the enemy, armed to the teeth. No—armed with teeth, and huge, raking claws, and furious eyes.

  Beth, throwing herself at a boar twice her size to save him.

  Not going to die, she cried in an ear-splitting growl. No way.

  She clamped down on the old boar’s ear and threw him off balance—just enough to make Rudiger stumble. The huge, curved tusk of the enemy flashed a hair away from Axel’s eye. Rudiger Kruesmann screamed in fury, trying to roll Beth off.

  Axel scrambled to his feet, coiling every muscle for a jump. He bulldozed Rudiger aside before the boar could crush Beth. Then he canted his head and thrust his tusks at the enemy’s rolling flanks with a mighty grunt.

  Old Rudiger jumped aside. He glanced at Axel with eyes flashing red with hatred before he bugled the retreat and limped away.

  Axel blinked the dust out of his eyes as the ground shook with hoofbeats. Watched a dust cloud rise up and conceal his foe’s hasty retreat. The sound of labored breathing had him swinging his head around, wondering who was wounded, but it was just his own heaving lungs. Exhaustion hit him like a charging bull, and he swayed on his feet.

  Beth… He reached for her in his mind.

  A soft, furry body circled his, rubbing up along his sides. A warm tongue licked at his face, and she tucked her head under his.

  Right here, my mate, she murmured. Right here.

  The two of them stood under the bleeding evening sky and leaned against each other, too tired to shift. Too tired to think, once they’d made a quick headcount of wolves and boars. Zack had a crushed foot, Tina a bruised rib, and Rick had a gash along his side, though pride in the triumph of his first shifter battle s
eemed to outweigh the pain. Trey was bleeding from half a dozen wounds and looked equal parts exhausted and awed.

  And Beth… He snuggled closer. Beth had gone from warrior back to angel and was humming to him in a heavenly tone. Her voice was an octave lower in wolf form, but otherwise, exactly the same.

  Are you injured? Her question jumped smoothly into his mind, like they’d been communicating silently since they were pups.

  I’m good, he managed.

  Too bad. She sighed, ever so slightly.

  Too bad?

  Would have been nice to take care of you again, she went on.

  He flopped on his side, laughing in spite of the pain that caused. Oh, you can take care of me, all right. If I get to take care of you, too.

  He could see it already: lying in the shade of the sycamores by the library in summertime with his head in her lap, listening to her read to him in her lilting singsong voice. She could probably read anything—repair manuals, tax forms—and make it sound nice. The words wouldn’t matter as long as he could hear that voice and know the woman it belonged to belonged to him.

  His eyes blurred with something suspiciously close to tears. Tears of joy? He blinked a little then smiled. Wolves were capable of making javelinas feel the most amazing things.

  Beth nuzzled him. How about we both take care of each other for the rest of our lives?

  He nodded back to her, holding her gaze so she knew he meant it. For the rest of our lives.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Beth had never felt as big as she had in that battle. So tough. Javelina-tough, because love was her armor, her fuel, her resolve.

  Not that she remembered much. She only vaguely recalled a blur of jumping, twisting, slashing. Roaring to high heaven in a voice she’d never used before and launching herself at enemy boars with a strange lack of fear. But it was all a bit foggy in her mind. The part that stood out was everyone gaping at her afterward.

  “Where’d you learn to fight like that?” Rae asked, a little awed.

  Rae, huntress and warrior, looking at her like that.

  Tina, too: all Hawthorne power, all class, nodding at Beth as an equal.

  Zack, Rick, and Trey, dipping their heads in respect.

  That part, she’d remember for a long, long time.

  That, and Axel’s deep sigh when she licked him over and over, whispering, “Home. I can’t wait to go home.”

  His sigh said exactly the same thing, and the vision that passed from his mind to hers wasn’t of Broken Hill, but a modest bungalow on Twin Moon Ranch.

  Rae, Zack, and Trey headed straight back to Arizona, but Beth, Axel, and the others spent three long days at Broken Hill before departing, licking their wounds, tending the others, helping the javelina pack catch its breath. The Waldermann pack wanted to put on a feast, but Axel shook his head quietly.

  “It’s time to go home.”

  The javelinas had looked around in confusion until he tilted his head west. “Home. Twin Moon Ranch.”

  Beth’s heart swelled in her chest, hearing him say those words.

  In the end, their goodbye to Broken Hill passed in typically understated javelina fashion. Axel hugged his mother, who smoothed a hand over his back and whispered something in his ear. No tears, no pleas to stay. Just a proud gaze and a quick pat on the back.

  Then came Axel’s curt nod to his father, who’d been brought in on a stretcher right after the fight. The old man could barely stand, but pride had him leaning on crutches in human form, pawing the ground in a gesture so like his son’s. Beth strained to hear the words that seemed poised at the tip of the grizzled old javelina’s tongue. Words that kicked and screamed and struggled but couldn’t quite wrestle their way out.

  Judging by the shine in Axel’s eyes, though, he got the message.

  His uncle Gunther cleared his throat harshly, then pulled Axel in for a long, close man-hug that said everything Lothar hadn’t.

  You’ve made us proud. He slapped Axel on the back a couple of times then hugged him. “Make sure you visit before too long.”

  Axel nodded silently and squeezed Beth’s hand a split second before Gunther surprised her—surprised everyone, judging by the murmur that went through the gathered crowd—by pulling Beth into a hug, too. He coaxed Axel closer and joined their hands.

  “There,” Gunther said in a gruff voice, backing away while keeping the two of them firmly clasped. “There. Good luck.”

  And that was it. Well, there might have been a teary eye or two, but all Beth saw was the horizon, calling her home. Soon, the tires of Rick’s truck were humming over the highway, heading west. Like giddy kids, everyone counted down the miles out loud.

  Home. Her whole body sang with the feeling, and Axel’s warm bulk beside her did the same. Home!

  They counted down for hours and hundreds of miles, then snoozed a little with his head tucked over hers, her fingers curled tight in his hand. Then they woke up and watched impatiently for every highway sign, every landmark.

  “Arizona,” Tina cried in glee at the state line.

  Not long after, they broke a hundred miles to go, then eighty…sixty…thirty…

  Axel squirmed with as much excitement as any of the wolves who’d been born and bred on Twin Moon Ranch. Maybe even more.

  It was sunset when they finally crested a hill and saw the ranch in the distance. The buildings were hidden by a small rise, but the rest was there, laid out like a feast for the eyes. The mesa, the green line of the creek, the proud stand of cottonwoods.

  “Stop,” Axel called, leaning toward the front seat.

  Rick hit the brakes as if Axel had shouted. “What?”

  Beth’s gut lurched. Had Axel changed his mind?

  “We’ll go the rest of the way on foot. Okay with you?” Axel glanced at her.

  Her grin felt a mile wide. He was right. For all that they’d been itching to get home, driving in on four wheels didn’t seem like the right kind of homecoming. They needed to soak in the scent of home, to take things slowly for a change. They’d earned it.

  “Have fun, kids,” Tina joked as they stripped outside the car, tossed their clothes in the back, and trotted out into the desert. They shifted side by side as if they’d spent a lifetime doing that. Her wolf pranced alongside his hulk of a boar, but there was nothing odd about the couple they made. Only a deep-rooted sense of rightness that warmed her to the bone. They belonged together, and they were home.

  Ross Rocks…Coyote Hollow… She counted every landmark they passed, every familiar place.

  Axel nodded happily each time. His nostrils flared as he sucked in the beauty of the place. When they reached the mesa just above the horse pastures, Beth couldn’t hold back any more. She rolled on the ground, wiggling and grunting like, like…well, like a pig, just to get that scent under her skin. The scent of home.

  That figures, he murmured into her mind when she stood and shook out her fur.

  What?

  He came closer to sniff her, then dipped his chin in approval. Desert rose, he said, pawing the earth beside a flower. She’d crushed it in her antics, but it was already springing back up, stretching toward the sky. You’re my very own desert rose.

  Shakespeare could have written her a sonnet, and it wouldn’t have been as beautiful as those words.

  She scrubbed up and down the rough hide of his body, all along one side, then the other.

  And you’re my very own…

  He lifted the heavy brow above one eye. Your very own what?

  She grinned and swiped her tail against his legs. That’s it. You’re my very own.

  The grin that appeared on his face lasted all the way to the edge of the ranch, only fading when they stood atop a small hill across from the gate. The ranch brand hung above it: two intersecting circles, overlapping by a third, but Axel’s gaze went beyond it.

  What’s going on? He cocked his head.

  Two rows of torches extended beyond the ranch gate, flickering as the last
drops of color bled from the sky. Seven torches on the left side, seven on the right, like a makeshift runway on a clear winter’s night.

  Beth’s breath caught in her throat. She’d only witnessed that sight a few times in her life. A great honor reserved for the pack alpha or the most esteemed guests. Her knees shook a little as her mind grasped what it meant.

  Beth? Axel pawed the ground nervously.

  She blinked away joyful tears, shifted into her human shape, and extended a hand, inviting him to do the same.

  Her mighty javelina looked up with a question in his eyes. What did that firelight mean?

  “A hero’s welcome,” she whispered, not quite trusting her voice. “A special homecoming.”

  Axel’s eyes grew wide. For us?

  She shook her head solemnly. “For you.”

  Crickets sang all around them, and the fire in the torches crackled, beckoning them.

  She motioned with her fingers. Come with me, my mate.

  Axel stared, and for one terrifying moment, she thought he’d turn and run into the bush. Her shy, retiring mate wasn’t one for the limelight or accolades. But if ever a hero deserved to be welcomed to Twin Moon Ranch, it was him.

  Come with me, my love, she tried again.

  Axel took a deep breath, dragged a hoof against the earth, and shifted—slowly. His shoulder blades flattened across his broad back, and bare skin took shape along his muscled thighs. His lips tightened, and his hooves divided into fingers as he reared up to two legs. Two shaky legs and a slightly pale face.

  “You sure that’s for me?” he murmured, biting his lip.

  She took his hand and tugged gently. “I know it’s for you.”

  His lips moved, but no sound came out, except maybe the audible thump of his heart.

  She led him down the rise, across the bridge that spanned a dry creek bed, and toward the gate. Rick’s truck was parked outside it, and they took a second to pull on their clothes, then stepped forward again.