Where had his voice gone?
Elsie wasn’t his enemy. Words were. Expressions. Emotions. Zackary had struggled his entire life to communicate. He’d all but given up. Who cared about articulation in a post-apocalyptic world?
Elsie had sacrificed her place in the hollow to save him. She’d said she couldn’t live in a world without him. But that wasn’t enough for Zackary. He couldn’t live without her period.
chapter twenty-two
The rush of the Sakhir River at her back flowed with the force of her tears. Elsie was leaving Wolf Hollow for good. Her home. Her family. Her beloved. A sob burst through her lips. She bit her tongue.
Stop it!
She couldn’t fall apart so close to the hollow. She’d only just crossed the river. Her teleporting skills only extended about fifteen paces. After that, she’d masked her scent with magic—no sense holding back now—and picked her way carefully through the woods between Jager’s hut and the Sakhir.
At least she had a home to go back to. Bitterness soured her tongue and coated the back of her throat. She couldn’t imagine sharing a villa with her father again. Maybe Charlotte’s family would take her in.
Elsie pitched forward, tears erupting from her eyes.
She didn’t want to live with Charlotte’s family or in Balmar Heights—she wanted to be in Wolf Hollow with her mate.
Her anguish carried through the trees as she made her way north on foot. Shifting to wolf form would be too easy. She deserved to walk the whole way back and wallow in despair. She welcomed the pain with open arms. How could she ever forget Zackary’s face at the council meeting? He could barely look at her. Even Wolfrik and Emerson despised her powers. She was a witch. If they didn’t like magic, they didn’t like her. She’d never had a place in Wolf Hollow—shifters and wizards were simply not meant to mix.
A freak of nature, that’s what she was. Her father’s sick little experiment.
A fresh stream of tears gushed down her cheeks. They dripped over the top of her dress, wetting the white silky fabric.
She was in no hurry to reach the mountain. Once again, she’d be a lone wolf. Solo moonlit runs would resume. There would be no answering call when she howled.
She was selfish to think such thoughts when her mate could never shift again, but that didn’t stop her aching heart from mourning the loss of her entire pack. She hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to Kallie. She hated that her friend, or anyone else in the pack, would think ill of her. She’d truly wanted to fit in. To belong.
Keeping her ears open for the sound of her name on Zackary’s lips, Elsie peered over her shoulder frequently, hoping her mate would come after her. Why she insisted on this delusion was beyond her. The hurt she’d seen in his eyes would haunt her for the rest of her days.
She wanted to remember the good moments they’d had together, however fleeting, but all she could think about was this cursed day from the moment William showed up to Zackary shaking with tears then the horrifying sounds of him fighting his father.
The forest animals offered no comfort. A squirrel raced across her path and skittered up a tree chattering and tugging her inner wolf who tried to convince her she needed a snack.
Elsie placed one foot in front of the other, somehow making her way through the woods without collapsing into a blubbering heap.
No one came after her. She was entirely alone and it was terrible.
With dusk came gut-stabbing hunger. Elsie gave in to her stomach, pulling off her dress to shift and hunt down dinner. After feasting on rabbit, she remained in fur the rest of the night, her senses alert to potential dangers. No matter how much her heart ached, her survival instincts refused to be ignored.
It was the longest and loneliness night of her life.
When morning light filtered through the trees, Elsie pounced on an unfortunate squirrel looking for a place to bury his acorn. After eating the rodent—and the acorn—she shifted and pulled her dress over her head, resuming her trek across streams, through meadows and dense woods, each step taking her closer to Balmar Heights.
It was a good thing she’d run around Balmar Heights barefoot all her life and toughened the bottom of her soles. She’d been called an odd child growing up, but her coven had still accepted and loved her. Lazarus had said she refused to wear shoes the moment he tried to put her first small pair on. He’d chuckled with delight at the memory, claiming it must have been her animal side rebelling against footwear.
Elsie walked over the rough, rocky terrain without any trouble. If only she could harden her heart as easily.
Did Zackary miss her as much as she missed him? Did he miss her at all?
She understood that he felt betrayed, but she had told him she loved him again and again. Had he lost all faith in her? Would he ever search her out? Should she bother holding out hope?
He’d looked so closed off at the council meeting. Remembering the vacant look in his eyes brought the tears back.
“Ugh, I hate being sad,” Elsie groaned aloud.
She altered her course midday to avoid the caves where Brutus dwelled. The bear shifter had made his den uncomfortably close to the mountain on which sat Balmar Heights. His brothers had chosen to venture farther off. They certainly weren’t pack animals.
Elsie picked her way over a rocky path that followed a trickling stream before leveling out into a plateau. The open space felt freeing, even if it left her temporarily exposed. There was no fear in her, only a deep unsettling emptiness and too many jumbled thoughts.
The path Elsie walked was one of her own making. She chose areas she could navigate easiest on foot. It was silly to continue on foot, but she still wasn’t ready for that final climb up to Balmar Heights.
Passing blackberry bushes brought another onslaught of tears to her eyes. Would Zackary resume berry picking without her? How could he let her walk away? Well, okay, maybe she hadn’t given anyone the chance to stop her after her disappearing act. Should she have been the one to dig her heels in and try harder to remain in Wolf Hollow with her mate?
The proceedings hadn’t exactly felt like they were going in her favor. Better to make things easier on everyone and leave on her own.
A single tear slipped down Elsie’s cheek. She rubbed it with her fist, smearing her cheek in dampness.
Stepping closer to the bushes laden with dark purple fruit, Elsie pulled a berry free and closed her eyes. When she opened her mouth, she imagined it was Zackary setting the blackberry on her tongue. It could have been the sweetest berry in the forest, but without him it had no flavor.
She swallowed the pulpy juice and seeds past the lump in her throat.
The bushes seemed to make up a natural wall that went on and on, curving then straightening for long stretches before curving again. Rabbits that had been out sunning themselves scrambled beneath the brambles when they heard her coming. They continued to dart out of sight around every bend. When she rounded the corner, the fur ball twenty paces off was bigger than bunnies . . . massive. Huge. Brutus.
Of all the rotten luck. She really was cursed. Her annoyance at running across the bear shifter supplanted any fear. Why today of all days? Why now?
She held still, watching him munch berries straight off the bushes. He was too busy stuffing his face to notice her. She took a tentative step backward, followed by another and another until she had cleared the bend and gotten out of sight.
Elsie scarcely breathed as she listened for the sound of a large animal charging for her. When none came, she grinned to herself.
Phew! That was a close one.
She turned slowly, as though the big, bad bear was still in sight, before taking tentative steps over the trampled wild grass. Backtracking her way toward the plateau, Elsie hadn’t quite cleared the blackberry bushes when she rounded a bend and came upon Brutus again—only this time he was in his human form . . . naked.
Elsie gave a squeak of surprise.
His hands were on his hips, chin jutted up as th
ough he’d been waiting impatiently for her arrival.
“What are you doing here? There are still two more days left.” Brutus turned up his nose.
Elsie gave a sardonic laugh. “How romantic.”
God, what a caveman. No, he was worse. A caveman would have worn a loincloth—the wild dark brown thatch of hair above his cock didn’t count, nor did his hairy chest and legs work as a substitute for clothes. Elsie wrinkled her nose. Brutus looked like Sasquatch in human form. If he had a more pleasant personality, she would have given him credit for the muscles sculpted beneath all the hair, but the brute repulsed her with his barbaric behavior.
“Guess you figured there was no sense waiting any longer,” Brutus said, ignoring her sarcasm. He scratched his beard. “As long as you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful by cleaning the bones out of my cave. I like to eat in.” Brutus flashed her a cruel smile through the bristle lining his lips.
Elsie’s upper lip curled. “I don’t think so. Clean your own damn cave. Or sleep in your own filth for all I care.”
“That’s no way to speak to your mate.” Brutus glowered at her.
A smile lifted Elsie’s cheeks. “Actually, I already have a mate, so I’m gonna go ahead and pass on the whole cavewoman lifestyle, as charming as it sounds.” She probably shouldn’t have smirked at a mammoth-sized bear shifter, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. After the shit-ass day she’d had, it felt too good to toss out some sass.
Brutus stormed over and grabbed Elsie’s arm in one meaty palm while shoving her hair off her shoulder with the other. His jaw tightened as he took in the bite mark on her neck.
“What’s this? You’ve been claimed?” he roared.
“By one of my own kind—a wolf shifter,” Elsie informed him as she tried to yank free of his grasp.
Brutus’s grip tightened. “That’s not allowed.”
“My father made a promise for me to mate a shifter—not a bear shifter specifically—and that’s what I’ve done.”
Brutus’s next roar rang in Elsie’s ears. Her eyes squeezed closed as she winced.
“That son of a whore! That backstabbing weasel of a wizard!” Brutus raged, shaking Elsie in his anger. “He took my home, and now he took away the mate I was promised.”
“He didn’t take me away . . . I chose someone else,” Elsie corrected him.
It didn’t matter what she said. Brutus had gone into a blind rage. He jerked his head in fury, wild-eyed, breathing hard, and digging his fingers into her skin. There would be bruises on her arm the next day, if not sooner.
“You’re hurting me!” Elsie yelled. This she followed with a spell in case breaking the cursed match with Brutus had also freed her ability to use magic against him. “Formella lavita!” It should have sent Brutus flying off her, but he remained where he was with his crushing hands. Using her powers on him had been a long shot when he still had the symbols carved into his arm, but it had been worth a try.
A vicious chuckle rumbled past Brutus’s thick lips. “You can cheat me, Little Wolf, but you can’t hurt me.”
Elsie was air born in seconds, tossed roughly over Brutus’s broad shoulder. Blood rushed to her head as she dangled precariously close to Brutus’s toned butt cheeks.
“What are you doing?” she screamed.
Brutus started walking toward the plateau. “You were promised to me. I don’t care if you suckered some wolf shifter into claiming you. You are mine, Elsie, and you will obey me.”
Elsie burst into laughter—laughter that was cut short when Brutus spanked her across the ass.
“Did you just fucking spank me?” she bellowed. She wasn’t looking for an answer. Elsie kicked out with her legs and scratched at Brutus’s lower back with her nails.
“Stop squirming unless you want me to spank you again . . . or maybe you like it.” Brutus chuckled.
“You bastard bear!” That did it. Elsie stopped struggling and calmed her breath, but only so she could shift. The blunt nails that had been scratching at Brutus turned into claws that punctured his skin, drawing blood.
“Oh fuck,” Brutus muttered when he realized what she was doing. He threw her to the ground with such force Elsie smacked her head against a thick tree root. She wasn’t sure if she was wolf or witch when she began to lose consciousness . . . or some monstrous combination of both.
She reopened her eyes to darkness—darkness and firelight flickering around cave walls. Elsie coughed and blinked through the smoke. A campfire in a cave wasn’t the smartest placement, but Brutus wasn’t very bright. At least she could see the cave’s opening from here.
Looking around the sandy floor, Elsie saw that Brutus hadn’t been joking about the bones. The place was littered with cartilage and skeletons of small animals.
She screwed up her face in disgust.
Her arm ached where Brutus had manhandled her, and the back of her head throbbed. When she tried to rub it, both hands moved.
What now?
Eyes adjusting to the dim light, Elsie found that her wrists were bound tightly in rope. Not only that, her dress had been removed and replaced with a fur bikini top and skin loincloth. Elsie’s nostrils flared in outrage.
“What the hell is this?”
“These are the clothes I will allow you to wear, woman.”
Elsie’s head jerked in the direction of Brutus’s voice. He sat against the cave’s wall, nearly blending in with the rocks, looking her over with smug satisfaction.
“You put your hands on me after knocking me unconscious?” Elsie demanded. She glared at him through the smoky darkness.
“I only changed your clothes, and you knocked yourself out after attempting to attack me.” Brutus sneered. “I have no desire to touch you, Little Witch. At least now you are tolerable to look at.”
Elsie growled as she scrambled to stand, careful that she didn’t hit her head again on the rocky ceiling. She needn’t have bothered. Brutus’s cave was large, like the beast that inhabited it. Her lip curled as she looked down at the crude scraps of animal hide and fur. Ugh. First William, now Brutus trying to dress her up as he pleased. How long had he been holding on to this getup waiting to humiliate her?
“You may stand, but you cannot leave.” Brutus issued the command with cool patience.
“You can’t keep me here,” Elsie snarled.
He bristled. “I can and I will. Your father made a promise long ago.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. His firstborn daughter must claim a shifter. I claimed a shifter.”
“Then where is your mate?” Brutus taunted.
Elsie looked at the cave’s entrance as though Zackary would magically appear in the opening. Seeing only more darkness and hearing silence that stretched on for miles, Elsie’s lower lip trembled. She attempted a halfhearted shrug. Brutus’s lips puffed out through his beard.
Smug fucking bastard.
“Did he kick you out of his den, or did you run away, Little Wolf?”
“Stop calling me little.”
Brutus scratched his beard, looking her over.
“Or maybe you performed one of your little magic spells on him. Dumb mutt didn’t even know what hit him until it was too late. You got what you wanted and now you’re running home to daddy.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, asshole!” Elsie’s scream echoed through the cave. It entered her brain and magnified the pounding at the base of her skull.
“I know plenty,” Brutus answered calmly. “I know exactly what you and your father are capable of. You’re worse than the wretched humans pillaging what’s left of the world. You’d screw over your own mother if she were still alive.”
“Shut up, Brutus! You are the foulest being I’ve ever had the misery of knowing.” Hot, angry tears slid down Elsie’s cheeks. His rotten words festered inside her mind.
“What kind of weakling wolf did you trick into mating you? I bet he was a scrawny, pathetic little thing. Little wolves humping in the woods.”
>
“My mate is not little. He could kick your sorry ass,” Elsie said between clenched teeth.
“You wish so,” Brutus said with a smile.
“I know so.”
Brutus lumbered over, his broad shoulders towering above the flames and blocking the entrance. “It doesn’t matter,” he said with finality. “You are mine now.”
“You think you can keep an eye on me day and night,” Elsie snorted. She might as well sit back down and wait for Brutus to go to sleep or leave the cave in search of food. The moment he left, slept, or let down his guard, she’d shift into full fur—not the stupid scraps covering her breasts—and be on her way.
Brutus grinned. Elsie didn’t like it. She narrowed her eyes.
“What’s so amusing?” she demanded.
Brutus shuffled back to the wall of his cave and reached behind some large rocks. He kept his body turned sideways, one eye on Elsie, one on what he grabbed. The sound of metal clinking together sent cold fury coiling around Elsie’s stomach. The rage and dread magnified when Brutus pulled out a metal chain. He lifted an old frayed collar next, smiling triumphantly.
Elsie scowled. “There’s no way you’re putting that on me.”
Brutus grinned. “Not everything from the human world is a waste. I’ll give you a choice. You can put the collar on yourself, or I can do it for you.”
He tossed the horrid woven circlet at her feet. It made a soft jingle with the metal heart-shaped name tag still attached. Elsie’s stomach roiled. She kicked it into the fire. Brutus shot over in an instant and fished the filthy thing out of the flames with a stick. After dragging it across the sandy floor, he picked it up and sighed.
“I guess I’m going to have to touch you.”
“Don’t you dare.”
She darted to one side of the fire, attempting to misdirect him when she jerked back and went for the other side. Brutus had the advantage on being in his home turf. Size didn’t slow him down inside his cave. He moved shockingly fast, surging toward her, his big, beefy arms locking her in their grip.
Moon Cursed (Wolf Hollow Shifters Book 4) Page 23