Digging the Wolf: a paranormal romance (Werewolves of Crookshollow Book 1)

by Steffanie Holmes

  Anna stroked my cheek. “Hey, Luke.”

  Her voice sounded husky from sleep. Hey eyes fluttered open, the long lashes sticking together. Her lips pursed into a perfect bow. Goddamn it, I couldn’t wait until I was out of my wolf form, and I could throw her on the bed and take her the way I wanted to.

  Instead, all I could do was nuzzle her hand and give her my puppy-dog eyes and hope she would go and fetch me some bacon from the kitchen.

  Anna leaned forward and tugged off her sleeping shirt, leaving her naked breasts on display. I growled low in my throat as the sight of those glorious orbs sent a wave of desire through me. Soon, soon. It wasn’t much longer before Anna and I could resume our relationship where we’d left off – naked and tangled up in each other’s limbs.

  I placed my paw on her thigh. Her skin felt so smooth and supple.

  “Luke, you have to go.” Anna clasped her bra behind her back, and pulled her pink thermals over the top. “Frances and the others will be awake soon. You know they can’t see a wolf hanging around the camp.”

  I nodded my head. She was right, of course. The idea of leaving her wrenched at my chest, but today I wouldn’t go off in search of the wolf. I’d be staying as close to the caves as I could, watching and waiting. That wolf was nearby and I wouldn’t let him come near her again.

  “Go, go, go.” Anna shoved me out the tent door. I took one look across the camp, scanning the trees for movement. I sniffed the air. He’d come close, last night, within a few metres of the tent. But my presence must’ve held him back. Once again, I mentally flayed myself for falling asleep. The flap on Frances’s tent moved. I dared one last, long look back at Anna, her beautiful face drawn with concern.

  She kissed the top of my head. “I’m fine. Now go.”

  I darted into the trees just as Frances emerged from her tent and stumbled in the vague direction of coffee. I guessed by the fact she wasn’t screaming in terror that she hadn’t seen me.

  As soon as I saw Anna arrive successfully in the caravan, I ran up along the ridge, following the night’s trail left by my wolf visitor. I didn’t want to go too far from the camp, but I needed to have some idea where he’d gone.

  After a couple of miles I traced him back to the stream, and a small cave in the rocks. His path didn’t lead away again, so he must still be inside. I didn’t follow him into the cave, not wanting another confrontation just yet. His scent drenched the rocks and trees – I’d found his lair.

  There was no sense in hanging around there. I followed the rocky seam back through the forest, towards my family cave. When I reached a rocky outcrop overlooking the cave entrance where another film crew had gathered, I sat down and folded my paws in front of me. I tried to shift back into my human form, but I couldn’t. The moon was still full.

  NASA defines the full moon as lasting only a few moments, when the earth is directly, mathematically in between the sun and the moon. However, I was a werewolf, which meant that technicalities didn’t apply.

  I watched the camera crew set up their equipment. Frances dashed back and forth, helping the men carry their heavy lights down into the cave. Ruth sat on one of the rocks, balancing an umbrella awkwardly in the crook of her arm while she tried to touch up her makeup in a compact with the other. I followed Anna as she weaved through them all, answering questions, handing out trowels to use as props, and genuinely being her usual accommodating, gorgeous self.

  A smell wafted across my nose, sharp and pungent, it carried the distinct aroma of wolf. But it wasn’t the same wolf as yesterday. This was the second wolf, the one whose path both and the red wolf and I had followed yesterday. He was here.

  Shit.

  I leapt to my feet, every sense on high alert. I shoved my nose in the air, trying to figure out where he was. The stench of him told me he was close, probably right up on me, but I couldn’t see him hiding among the rocks. How had he got so close without me sensing him earlier? It didn’t make any sense—

  I heard the sound before I felt the hit. A sharp intake of breath. The crunch of a paw against the rock. And then something hard slammed into my body, and I tumbled through the air. I scrambled for purchase, but found nothing except fur and teeth.

  We bounced down the rock face, claws digging into each other. My back cracked against the rocks. I rolled and slammed hard on my shoulder. Pain shot through my body. My grip loosened. The wolf dug its claws into my back.

  For the first time, I got a good look at him. His fur was dark, an almost black stripe across his thick back, fading around to a dull grey over his enormous belly. His long face peered down at me, eyes so dark they were practically black bore into mine with a look of cold, calculating evil. This wolf didn’t just want to fight me over territory, he wanted to grind my bones between his teeth.

  “You were warned to stay away.” The wolf hissed inside my head as he flipped me over and slammed my body against the jagged rocks. My body screamed. Red welts flew across my vision. “You should have listened. More will die if you don’t listen.”

  More will die.

  Panic rose in my chest as the wolf’s claws circled my neck, and he slammed my head down on the rocks. My brain bounced inside my skull, which now throbbed with a terrifying urgency. Who was this guy? What did he mean by, “More will die”? Has he killed someone? Is Anna OK? And when had he warned me? Does he mean the warning the other wolf gave me? Were they working together? Was the other wolf nearby?

  With two of them on me, I’d be a goner. I had to make a move. I drew up all my remaining strength and threw all of it into leaping up. The wolf yelped in surprise as he tumbled off my back. Ignoring the pounding in my skull, I pounced, knocking his back against the rocks. I snapped my jaws in his face. He snapped right back. I ducked away from his gnashing teeth, swiping my claws across his cheek. He howled with rage and lunged for me. I leapt back, releasing my claws from his fur. His claws tore chunks of fur from my shoulders as they were wrenched free, but at least I was no longer in danger of a bite.

  I couldn’t take this guy. He was more than half again my size, and he was angry as fuck. I needed to get away. But how could I lose him?

  I leapt down the rocks, landing on all fours. The impact shuddered through my legs, but I had no time to recover. I made a run for it, plummeting down the rocky ledge into the trees. Get to the stream. He can’t follow me in the stream.

  My feet pounded against the dirt. This was the second time in as many days I’d found myself running from a wolf. This was not ideal. I much preferred biting to running.

  Behind me, trees rustled, paws slammed into the wet earth. A voice in my head screamed. “You cannot escape me, Lowe!”

  The stream loomed ahead, the banks swelling from the recent rain. I sucked in my breath and plunged in. Freezing water rushed over me. The open wounds on my shoulder stung, and my head throbbed in the sudden cold. I paddled along with the current, allowing it to drag me downstream as quickly as it could take me.

  I glanced over my shoulder, but the water threw me around so much I couldn’t focus on the shore behind me. I couldn’t see where the big black wolf had got to. I couldn’t smell him, either. All I could see, taste and hear was the rushing, churning water.

  The icy water stabbed at me like thousands of tiny needles. I bumped my way through jagged rocks and over frothing rapids, plunging underwater and spinning wildly as I fought to gain control. I still couldn’t see the wolf anywhere, and his voice had gone from my mind. I couldn’t smell anything but water and fish.

  Only when the pain became unbearable did I decide to leave the safety of the water. I dragged myself up onto the bank, allowing myself only a moment to catch my breath and shake off as much of the frigid water as I could, before plunging into the forest again.

  As I ran, I sniffed the air, but my senses had grown dull. I couldn’t make out the trails of animals that had scurried across the forest floor, nor smell the whiff of fresh carrion from a recent predator kill. Colours grew brighter, more lum
inous. That could only mean one thing.

  My front legs cracked and buckled, and I plunged face-first into the dirt. I tried to get up, but my knees bent back on themselves, and I fell back into the mud. My paws sought for purchase, and as I tried to grip the nearest tree, my claws shrunk back and my toes grew out, becoming hands once more. My pelt retreated back into my skin, and the wildness in my veins dimmed, fading to a dull roar.

  The full moon was over. I was no longer stuck as a wolf. Now I was a naked man in the middle of the forest, miles from my mate, with no weapon, map or compass, and at least two very angry wolves on my trail.

  Great.

  I squinted up at the sky, hunting for a peek of the sun through the thick trees and cloud. I estimated the time based on its height and the amount of time since I’d left Anna’s tent as around 9:30am. I walked over the map of this area of the forest in my head, locating the road I’d parked on in relation to the river. With a vague direction in mind, I shifted back into my wolf form, and started to trot.

  Weariness seeped into my veins. I’d barely slept in two days, and all the worry over Anna’s safety had fried my brain to mush.

  I hit the road an hour later, and dashed along through the trees, my eyes darting everywhere, imagining I saw a wolf lurking behind every trunk or nestled in the crook of each low-hanging branch. After a few miles, I could just make out the outline of my truck, parked at the end of the dirt road. It was still there. I transformed back into my human form. My bare feet stung as they slapped against the freezing mud. I looked forward to the fresh clothing I’d stored in the back. And the chance to sit down.

  I slowed to a walk and circled around the edge of the clearing, sniffing every trunk for a sign of the wolves. I caught the faintest whiff of the red wolf, but the scent was either old or far away. I was safe, for now.

  I stepped out of the trees, and made my way towards the vehicle. I’d barely gone two steps when the scent hit me full on.

  Werewolf.

  My blood turned cold. One of them – the red wolf – was coming straight towards me through the trees. Branches snapped. Leaves rustled. The deep growls of a hungry, angry wolf rumbled through my body. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him, smell him. He’d be on me in a moment. And I was in the open, in my human form, with no weapon – completely vulnerable.

  In the split second I had to make a decision, I opted not to change into my wolf form. I was exhausted after my run-in with the black wolf, and I doubted I’d win in a fight. Instead, I went for the crowbar I kept in the truck. I dived for the wheel arch of the jeep, my hands fumbling for the keys I’d hidden underneath. I grabbed at the hook I hung them on, but they weren’t there.

  “Looking for these?” A deep voice said.

  I whirled around. A man stood at the edge of the clearing, holding up my keys. Unlike me, he was already dressed, in dark jeans and a canvas work shirt, the buttons only done up halfway, revealing a muscular chest covered with tattoos. Long red hair hung over his penetrating brown eyes. It was the red wolf, all right. He smirked at me, and tossed my keys up into the air, catching them in his fist.

  “Go on,” he said, still dangling the keys from his fingers. “I won’t stop you.”

  I growled, tossing up whether I should change back into my wolf form and attack him. It was sorely tempting, but I needed to find out more about him. And the only way to do that would be to somehow get him talking. I prepared myself, ready to shift in a moment if he advanced on me. “What do you want?”

  He took a step forward, entering the clearing. He raised his head and sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling. “Your mate has stood here,” he said. “I can smell her scent all over these trees.”

  “She hasn’t been here,” I said. But when I inhaled, I could sense her, too.

  “Oh, really?” He smirked. “You didn’t take her here in that dump truck of yours, a little wilderness adventure?”

  Perhaps it was her scent on my own body. But that should have washed off in the river. Has he done something to her? The black wolf’s words echoed through me. More will die.

  “If you’ve done anything to hurt Anna—”

  “Relax,” he held up a hand in mock surrender. “I haven’t touched her. Yet.”

  “Stay away from her.” I warned. I kept my eyes glued on him, but I shuffled along the side of the truck, inching towards the cab. If I couldn’t get to the crowbar, I had a hunting knife in the driver’s side door. If the wolf pulled anything, I could smash the window and grab it.

  “No can do, I’m afraid, Luke. She’s an important part of my plan.”

  “What do you want? How do you know my name?”

  “I’ve been watching you ever since you arrived. I know your first name, your shoe size, and more about you than you think. And as for what I want, I’ve already told you. These caves belong to my family. I’m here to take back the territory that is mine, and that includes the girl. If that means I have to fight you, then so be it.”

  My blood boiled. Who did this guy think he was? “My family has claim over this place. So you can just take your little wolf arse back to whatever backwater jungle you crawled out of and go back to cuddling monkeys or whatever it is you do with your time.”

  The wolf puffed out his chest, his eyes flashing with anger. “Be careful with words you cannot take back. My name is Caleb Lowe. I’m the son of Amos Lowe. My father died protecting these caves. By rights, they belong to me.”

  I stared at the man in disbelief. “You mean to tell me, we’re…cousins?”

  “We are?” That stopped him short.

  I pointed to my chest. “Luke Lowe, son of Walter Lowe. I thought I was the only surviving member of the Lowe pack.”

  “This doesn’t make sense.” The wolf rubbed his forehead, his eyes narrowed. “I’m the only surviving Lowe.”

  “I’m as surprised as you are.” I gestured to the door of the car. “Can I put some pants on?”

  “And have you pull some weapon on me? Not going to happen, Luke. What you need to do is explain how it is that your father came to not be dead, and how you found the caves.”

  “I take it you know what happened at the caves all those years ago, with the villagers—”

  “—and the fire and brimstone and torches and pitchforks.” Caleb made a stabbing motion with his fist. “I know. My mother told me the whole story. What she didn’t tell me about was you.”

  “Your mother? But how—”

  “We’ll get to me. You first, little cousin.”

  I bristled at the insult, but decided it best not to challenge Caleb while I was…tackle out. “Fine. My—I should say, our grandmother saw the villagers coming. She was a powerful psychic. At the time she had her vision, she was sleeping in the cave with my father. Our grandfather had taken the two older cubs out to hunt, but my father wasn’t yet old enough to join them. When the vision overcame her, grandmother wrote a warning into the painting on the cave wall, in the hopes the others – who were still not back from their hunt – might see it upon their return and join them in hiding. She then ran into the forest with my father, covered them both in mud and leaves to mask their scent, and they hid in the trunk of a rotting oak. The villagers came, found the caves empty, and started searching the woods, creating all kinds of noise that drew grandfather back. He couldn’t sense his wife or son anywhere nearby. Assuming the villages had already killed them, he set upon them with my brothers, and their rage cost the three their lives before they managed to overpower the wolves.”

  “Shit,” Caleb cursed. “How do you know all this?”

  “My father told me. He said the scene from that day was permanently etched into his mind. His mother saw it too, and she became distraught. She fled their hiding place and went to confront the mob. They were shocked to see her – a human woman – risking her life to help her wolf husband, but their shock turned to fear and anger as they realised she was complicit in the death of this innocent child. In their fury they killed her, too. My
father watched from his hiding place as they stove her head in. But they didn’t find him. He was the only survivor.”

  “I never knew he survived.” Caleb growled. “If I had, I would have found you much earlier.”

  “Why, so you could beat me up and steal all my toys?”

  Caleb snorted. “We’re family. Together we could have re-established our pack.”

  “I’m not establishing anything except who you are and how you’re related to me. And who’s the black wolf with you? Is he related to me, also? Why is he warning me that more people will die?”

  At the mention of the black wolf, Caleb’s body stiffened. “He’s definitely not with me, and he’s definitely dangerous. He’s attacked me once, and I barely escaped with my life.” He pointed to an angry gash along the side of his torso. “If he says he’s killed…I believe it. The black wolf wants to claim the caves, too. He has powers I didn’t even know were possible. Somehow, he can mask his scent for short distances. The other day I tracked him for several miles across the forest, but he evaded me in the end. The track was a dud. I think he’d planted it to try and lure me away. And you too, since you followed me.” Caleb frowned.

  “So then what’s your story? Are you some kind of immaculate conception?”

  “Nothing as dramatic is that, cousin. My mother was already with child when Robert Peyton led the villagers to the caves. Amos was preparing to leave the family pack in order to establish a pack of his own with my mother. If he’d been able to do that, the Lowe name would have lived on. But he never got that chance. When my mother Maria heard what had happened in the forest, she packed up a little food and warm clothing and ran away to Scotland, where no one knew the name of Lowe or the curse that followed us. I was born in Aberdeen, and my mother married the alpha there and had two more sons. He has never accepted me as his own, favouring his own children within the pack. I hated it there. I was sixteen when I left the pack and lived wild.” Caleb glanced around him at the trees, and my beaten-up truck. “I see we have that in common, ranger Luke.”