by Viola Rivard
3
Cain had never liked the smell of fish, and so he tried to focus on the smell of the trout, rather than on the human’s natural and wholly beguiling scent. It was impossible. She smelled like lavender, wet and freshly cut. It was a fragrant reprieve from the barren winter that blanketed the mountain.
His sleep had been heavily fragmented. He never slept well away from his territory, but it had been exceptionally difficult today, thanks to the human. It wasn’t just her alluring scent. Her presence had all of his instincts on high alert, poised to jump into action should any threats approach the cave.
Not good.
There had been no option but to let her follow him. She was two days and three river crossings away from the nearest human settlement, and that was at his pace. Even if she had taken the direct path and somehow avoided the bears, he doubted she would have survived the cold.
No matter how many times he told himself it was the only choice, he could have just left her. Hell, he could have avoided her in the first place. But he hadn’t, and that was exactly why he needed to get rid of her—the sooner, the better. Nothing good could come from her staying with him, and he was determined to remind himself of this all the way back to the road, where he would leave her.
Tired of lying in restless repose, Cain tried to nudge the human off his side, gently prodding her with his muzzle. She let out a sleepy sound of protest, her fingers curling into his fur in defiance. He liked the sight of her gripping his fur.
Not good.
He stood, letting her fall onto the floor. She woke with a disoriented cry, sitting up to roam her eyes around the chamber anxiously. When her gaze landed on Cain she looked alarmed for a brief moment, and then her posture drooped in relief. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, he shifted from his wolf.
Shifting into his human form had never been a pleasant experience for Cain. As an alpha, his wolf form was very large, and it was painful to compress into the inadequate body of a human male. As his bones and muscles popped into place, he recognized the familiar tightness of his human form. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck in an effort to ease the tension in his muscles.
As he was stretching his arms, Cain caught the female gaping up at him. When she noticed him staring at her, she quickly looked away, her face flushing with color. The telltale scent of her arousal reached his nose, and after lying beside her all day, it was harder to ignore this time. He wondered if she was exceptionally attracted to him, or if this was just her standard reaction to all males.
“Have you never seen a naked male?” he asked, reaching for his pants.
“Of course I have,” she replied hastily. “I’ve seen plenty of them.” Cain found that hard to believe. She continued babbling. “Where I come from, it’s not decent for strangers to see each other naked.”
Not particularly caring, he asked, “And where do you come from?”
“Florida.”
“Never heard of it,” he replied. She was staring down at her lap now, her face tinged ruby-red. “My pants are on, now.”
She tried to look up at him nonchalantly, but her eyes went straight to his chest. The thinly veiled desire in her gaze amused the man in him, and excited the wolf.
The human was fairly plain. She had brown hair and slightly tanned skin. Her face was soft and feminine, pleasantly arrayed, but nothing that would usually hold his attention. It was her physical response to his human body and her lack of fear towards his wolf that had the beast inside of him pacing in frustration, yearning to have a taste of her.
“Do all wolves look like you?”
She was looking him in the eyes now—or at least trying to. Her gaze centered on the middle of his face, but he could tell that there was too much distance between them for her to discern his features. It was just another reminder of how vulnerable she was.
“And what do I look like?” he asked, picking up his shirt. She tapped her cheek in contemplation as he fitted the shirt over his torso.
Finally, she replied, “Muscular.” She smiled up at him, revealing dimples in the creases of her cheeks and perfectly straight teeth.
“I am an alpha. I am stronger than most wolves.”
He said the words with a dash of arrogance, and recognized that he was posturing, telling her in not so many words that he would be a strong mate that could provide for her.
Not good.
“So you’re like a wolf leader, right?”
Leader. The word gave him pause, long enough to realize how ridiculous he was being. Cain was a leader with a great many responsibilities, none of which included standing around in a cave, posturing for a human female.
Cain picked up his bag and headed for the cavern’s opening. “Time to go.”
* * *
They traveled at a brisk pace, only the crunch of snow and the occasional hooting of owls breaking the silence. The sun was setting, bringing back the crisp air and foreboding darkness of the wood, but tonight Sarah wasn’t afraid. The scariest creature in the forest was walking beside her.
Cain was in his human body, though she wasn’t sure why. Oddly enough, she found him much less intimidating as a wolf than as a man. She had always loved animals, dogs especially. It would be way easier to have a giant wolf as a companion than an attractive man, though ‘attractive’ seemed like a weak word to describe Cain. He was magnificent.
Her mental image of werewolves had always been hulking brutes covered in fur with razor sharp teeth and glowing red eyes. Cain was none of those things, though he was a far cry from human. With his staggering height, powerful muscles, and chiseled features he looked like something that had stepped out of a fantasy, too perfect to be made of flesh and bone. But he was real, and he was walking beside her, at least for now. She felt safe with Cain.
And that was exactly why she needed to get away from him.
Sarah didn’t really consider herself a weak person, but throughout her life, she’d had three major vulnerabilities. When she was a girl, it had been cute boys. In her awkward teenage years, it had been hot guys. Then, as an adult, it had been good-looking men.
Fortunately for Sarah, her thick glasses, metal braces, and not-so-slim waistline had warded off the opposite sex for the most part, but they hadn’t stopped her from making plenty of bad decisions in her tireless pursuit of love. There was just something about big muscles and strong arms that stole all good sense from her, and apparently her proclivities towards these were not species-specific, because Cain hit all of her buttons in the worst way.
A cold wind whipped through the trees, stinging Sarah’s face. She pulled her parka hood over her head and stuffed her hands in her pockets. Looking over at Cain, she was surprised to see that he was unaffected.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but had nothing to cover his arms and face.
“I am accustomed to the cold.”
“I would think it would be harder for you to get used to the cold, what with you having all that fur usually.” His grin told her she hadn’t offended him. “Or do you usually not…um, look like a wolf?”
He gave her a sideways glance. “I prefer my wolf form, but sometimes this is necessary, especially when I do not want to leave tracks.”
“Because of bears?”
He shook his head. “Because of humans.”
Sarah frowned, but nodded in understanding. There wasn’t a whole lot she knew about werewolves, but she wasn’t ignorant to the fact that they were regularly the target of both the federal military and countryside militias. The attacks rarely made national headlines, and in Tampa you were more likely to hear a news story about a man getting his arm bit off by a shark than a werewolf massacre. People in the cities just didn’t care about shifters.
“Do you run into a lot of humans in this area?”
“Only you,” he replied. “But there are soldiers currently stationed in a nearby territory. I cannot risk them tracking me back to my den.”
“Was that your den that we slept in?”
Amusement returned to his expression. “That was a hole in the ground compared to my den,” he told her, sounding proud. “This is not my territory. I am merely passing through.”
“Where did you go?” Sarah asked. Cain was easy to talk to, and the conversation helped to distract her from the fact that he would soon be gone, leaving her on her own again.
“Where were you going?” he countered, clearly not interested in being candid. She was disappointed, but couldn’t blame him. After all, she was a stranger, and a human.
“My birthday is next week. I thought I’d surprise my mom with a visit. She lives far away, and we haven’t seen each other for a while…” Sarah trailed off, stopping in her tracks as a familiar wall of rock and ice took shape in front of her. They were probably a few miles from where she’d crashed her car, but there was no mistaking the mountainside she’d careened off of. “Is that the road you were talking about?”
Cain nodded. “Come. I will climb up with you.”
Sarah trotted behind him, her gut twisting with apprehension. She’d tried to climb up the wall several times, but only made it a few feet before she slipped on the ice. It wasn’t that she was a bad climber, she just wasn’t exactly dressed for ice-rock climbing.
“I don’t think I can get up there,” she said uneasily. When he looked back, she lifted her foot, wiggling her speckled ballet flats for emphasis. “These don’t have much of a grip to them.”
Cain arched a brow. “What is the purpose of such shoes?”
Sarah didn’t think the alpha werewolf would find “cuteness” an acceptable reason for her fashion choices, so she simply shrugged. Sighing, Cain came over to crouch down in front of her.
“Get on.”
She positioned herself behind him, placing tentative hands on his broad shoulders. Cain hooked his arms under her legs and stood, bringing her up with him. She held on tight, trying her best not act as giddy as she felt.
4
Cain held his bag in his teeth as he climbed. He was almost to the top of the cliff, and for that, he was grateful. If he had to spend another hour with the human, he was going to throw her to the ground and have his fill of her—repeatedly.
As if the heady scent of her arousal wasn’t enough, carrying her was quite nearly his undoing. At the juncture of her thick thighs, he could feel her warm heat pressing against the small of his back. Her breasts felt much larger than he’d presumed them to be. The curvaceous mounds had flattened against his back, and even through the layers of clothing, Cain was certain that he could feel her hardened nipples grinding against him.
Just when he thought that his cock couldn’t get any stiffer, she began sniffing him. He almost did not recognize what the human was doing when she settled her chin on the crook of his neck. She inhaled softly through her nose, just quick enough to be an intake of breath. He would have left it at that, had she not immediately done it again, the second time longer and far more blatant.
When he finally reached the top, Cain let her detach from his back. He threw his bag over his shoulder and looked both ways, frowning. The narrow dirt road had been carved precariously into the mountainside, and the unblemished snow told him that no cars had passed through in at least two days.
He looked back to the human. She was squinting around the bleak landscape, anxiously shifting her weight from foot to foot. He steeled himself for what was to come.
“You will find the nearest settlement two days north of here,” he told her.
She cocked her head. “Which way is north?”
Cain scowled at her. “How do you not know which direction north is?”
“Because my species invented compasses,” she said flatly. She rubbed her temple. “Look, just point me in the direction and I’ll figure it out.”
Cain moved behind her. “You will follow the road leading up the mountain.” He placed his hands on her arms, lifting them up. “If it diverges in the day, hold your arms out like this.” He trailed his touch up to the tips of her fingers. They were chilled, and he instinctively closed his hands over hers to warm them. “Do you know the direction the sun rises from?”
“East,” she whispered. He could hear her pulse quickening within her chest.
“Good,” he replied. “You point your right arm to where the sun rises, and your left will face the west.” Cain lowered his head and, taking one final indulgence from the human, inhaled her feminine scent. Her floral fragrance seemed to curl inside of him, making his stomach clench with need.
Speaking softly into her ear, he said, “Do this, and your back will always be to the south”—he lowered one hand, flattening it beneath her chest—“and your front will face the north. Understand?”
“I think so,” she breathed.
Cain stepped back, releasing her from his hold. She turned to stare up at him, and for the first time, he noticed her eyes. She had wide pupils, encased in vivid cobalt and fringed with long, thick lashes. For a moment, Cain could only wonder how just earlier that evening, he had thought that she was plain.
She looked away abruptly, breaking the spell. To the ground, she said, “Thank you. For everything.”
He had no words for her, so Cain stood in place, watching her turn and begin to walk away.
To the south.
Scowling, he trudged up to her, grabbing her shoulder. “You are going the wrong way.”
She squinted towards the horizon. “Oh. Wait, how do you tell which way is north at night?”
Cain gaped at her, utterly exasperated. “The North Star.”
She threw her hands up, looking equally exasperated. “Well, how do you expect me to see that?”
Cain blinked at her, realization settling in. Her vision was poor. It was an affliction that he had difficulty comprehending. His experiences with humans were limited only to his necessary forays into their towns and brief, bloody encounters on the battlefield. He had never spent a great deal of time with anyone similarly impaired. To be unable to see the stars, or a predator lurking in the darkness—how could anyone function as such?
Carefully, he turned her towards the north. “That way,” he instructed.
She nodded, her cheeks reddened by the cold. “Okay.” She gave him a weak smile. “Thanks again.”
Cain watched as she plodded her way up the road, until she disappeared around the bend. He had hoped that once she was gone from his presence, the urges that he felt towards her—the urge to protect her and the urge to mate with her—would be gone as well.
They only intensified. Unbidden, his feet moved forward, one after the other, until he was following after her. When he reached the bend, he saw her again. She walked the shaded road slowly, her hands stuffed inside the pockets of her coat. From a distance she looked small and vulnerable, and Cain knew that she was both of those things.
She did not belong to him. She was neither pack nor family, and if he involved her any further in his world, she would inevitably cause trouble for both. He was in no position to accommodate her into his life, even for a short while.
There were at least a hundred reasons why he should have left her and been on his way. Cain thought of each as he stalked after her, muttering a curse under his breath. As he neared the human she turned on her heel, her eyes wide. He could smell her fear, and felt a deep satisfaction when recognition, and then relief, eased her worry.
She asked, “Did you forget something?”
Annoyed, with her or with himself, he was not sure, Cain grabbed her hand. “You will not last another night out here on your own.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she grumbled, trotting to keep up with him.
Ignoring her remark, he said, “I do not have time to take you there myself. You will come with me back to my den. I will have one of my wolves escort you back to your kind.”
Even as he said the words, Cain could not be sure he was telling the truth. He wanted to believe that his intentions were noble,
but he knew his wolf too well. If the tightness in his gut and the stiffness between his legs were any indication, the next two nights were going to test his resolve on the highest level.
Cain looked down to see the object of his ire beaming up at him. Cheerfully she asked, “So what’s for breakfast?”
5
Sarah stared down at the bloodied heap of fur, her stomach churning with nausea. Rummaging through his duffle bag, Cain extracted a knife and tossed it in front of her. She looked between the serrated blade and the dead animal, giving the man beside her an incredulous look.
“That’s a bun…a rabbit,” she said, squelching a gag.
Still digging through his bag, Cain nodded and absently flicked his wrist. “The stream is over there. Gut and skin it while I prepare the fire.”
Still gaping at him, she said, “I’m not doing that.”
Sarah knew that she was being a brat and felt guilty, mainly because—for reasons unknown to her—Cain had decided to help her. When they had stood on the road, staring at one another, she had almost cracked, almost caved and begged him not to leave her there. It had very little to do with the fact that she was insanely attracted to him, though, if she was going to be honest with herself, it maybe played a teeny, tiny role. But more than anything, Sarah had been afraid of being left alone again.
Pride had made her walk away from Cain. Pride and the inability to ask anyone for help, but maybe those were the same thing. She just wasn’t used to relying on people, but this, she recognized, was one of the few times she was not in control of her life. Without her glasses and without a car, Cain was the only buffer between herself and the brutal wilderness. She was immensely grateful that he returned for her, but it didn’t change the fact that she wasn’t skinning the damn rabbit.
She put her hands on her hips, trying her best to look firm. Cain’s expression remained flat as he looked up at her. He didn’t need to stand to look intimidating, but he did anyway. At his full height, Cain towered over Sarah, the top of her head hardly clearing his massive shoulders.