by Viola Rivard
He could hear the bears. There were at least two, still far back, but gaining ground. It was their territory, which put him at a disadvantage. Man and wolf warred within him, rationality struggling against instinct. He knew that the bears were unlikely to attack if they caught up. They would chase him to the boundaries of their territory—farther than Cain was keen on running—but they would not risk injury or death when he posed no direct threat to their main cave. The smart thing to do would be to pace himself, let them catch up and hang back until the morning, when he would reach neutral ground.
Instinct had him surging forward at full speed. He could smell her fear, and it was difficult to control his reaction to it. After two days of lying beside the human, his scent was beginning to rub off on her. As far as his wolf was concerned, she was his and he needed to protect her.
The trees thinned and then gave way to a snow-frozen field. Cain flew across it, coming to a brief stop when he reached the other side. He looked back in time to see two bears breaking the treeline. When they caught sight of him, one let out a thunderous roar. Galvanized, Cain took off into the woods.
As he ran under a low-hanging branch, he felt a slight tug on his back, before he heard the human scream. Every muscle in his body seized as he ground to a skidding halt. He snapped his head back in a wild motion, his first instinct being that she had been hurt.
She gave him a desperate look. “The bag,” she said, pointing back to the tree. He jerked his head to see the blue bag dangling from the tree limb.
He could hear the bears closing in, and hesitated, only for a second, but it was a second too long. By the time he neared the bag so had the first of the bears. It reared up, roaring down at Cain. Anticipating the move, he reared up as well, letting out a fierce snarl. As he came down, Cain snatched the bag in his mouth and began to back away. The bear advanced on him, but did not attack.
Cain dashed away, calming marginally once he had put some distance between them. The human had not made a sound throughout the ordeal, only the smell of her fear and the weight of her on his back letting him know that she was still there.
The bears pursued them into the early morning hours, finally falling back as Cain reached the edge of their territory. Upon entering neutral ground, he did not immediately slow his pace. When his energy began to fail him, he climbed to high ground. At the roots of a giant white oak, Cain dug up the snow and dropped his bag, before leaning down to let the human climb off his back and onto the dirt.
His mind, which had been racing for the past few hours, seemed to settle at the sight of her. She was pale and her legs quaked as she found her footing, but she was unscathed. When she looked up at him, her eyes were twin pools of tumultuous waters.
In a scratchy voice, she said, “I think I lost one of your socks.”
In his frenzy to shift, he had thrust his clothing at her. Cain was impressed that she had managed to hold on to his boots. He bent his head to pluck his wayward sock from where it had gotten stuck in the hood of her jacket and deposited it into her arms.
“Nice!” he heard her exclaim as he began to shift.
His tired body did not protest this time, exhaustion taking precedence over the pain of the shift. When it was over, he took his clothes from the human, who was facing away from him, the color back in her cheeks again. He dressed slowly, taking the time to admire her. Her long, golden-brown hair was a windswept disarray, and he liked seeing it unkempt. It reminded him of the way her hair looked when she woke up beside him, before she combed it into submission with her fingers.
“We will rest here for a few hours,” he told her as he tied his boots. “I need to go clear my tracks.”
Cain glanced up to see Sarah looking around the area thoughtfully. “We’re going to be out in the open?” she asked.
He stood, brushing the dirt from his jeans. “We will only be here for a little while. My territory begins a few hours from here.”
Her eyebrows rose. “We’re almost there?”
He nodded.
Cain wished that he had the strength to push on, and get them to his lands before resting, but he had already stretched himself too thin. He needed to rest and replenish his strength.
Before leaving to clear their tracks, he went through his bag. With slight reluctance, he extracted one of the packaged sweets and tossed it to the human. She fumbled, but caught it. Her eyes widened with excitement, and then abruptly narrowed.
“Tell me that you didn’t nearly get us eaten by a bear for a bag full of candy bars?”
Cain laughed as he zipped the bag back up and threw it over his shoulder. He’d been laughing a lot since he met her, and he recognized how unusual it was. Far away from his pack, family, and the responsibilities of being an alpha, she was reminding him of what it was like to just be a male. Of all the things about her that distracted him, it was that quality that was the most dangerous. The bag on his shoulder was a reminder that he could never simply be a male. There were too many people relying on him to be more than that.
8
True to his words, Cain had only let Sarah sleep for a couple of hours before rousing her just after noontime. She had gotten up with all the grace of a zombie, lumbering into the woods to go pee and then coming back to slump down next to the newly-built fire. He’d caught another hare and thankfully hadn’t asked her to clean it, though he’d assured her the next one would be her responsibility. The meat had been just as good as the one before, and Sarah was worried that if she ever made it back to civilization she wouldn’t be able to look at a rabbit without her mouth watering.
In the past few hours they had reached the peak of the mountain and were finally on their way down. Although she was tired, Sarah was grateful for the midday sun illuminating the path down the mountainside.
Cain had told her that once they were a few miles into his territory, he would shift and carry her rest of the way. They would be at his den by nightfall. Sarah hoped that she’d done a good job of hiding her disappointment and hadn’t looked as miserable as she’d felt.
Three days ago, traveling upstate to see her mother had been just about the most interesting thing she’d ever done. Now, she’d met a werewolf, climbed a mountain, and been chased by bears. She was having the adventure of a lifetime and she wasn’t ready to give it up. She wasn’t ready to give Cain up.
Although she’d told herself time and time again not to get attached, she’d gotten attached anyway. If it were just the fact that he was handsome, she could have dealt with that. She’d slobbered over many attractive men, but always had a firm grip on reality. The reality of it was that attractive men didn’t go for overweight, bespectacled women.
She knew that Cain wasn’t any different. Every time he pulled a tree branch out of her way, or took her hand to help her climb up a rock, it was because he felt responsible for her. When he smiled at her, or laughed at something she said, it was because he thought she was amusing. When he had tried to make love to her, it was because he was in the mood and she had been there—not because under any other circumstances he would ever want to be with her.
It was a pessimistic outlook, but how many times had she thought, or worse, hoped that there was something there that wasn’t? Too many times, she’d let herself fall head over heels for a guy who was just being nice to her. After the last time, Sarah had told herself that she was better and deserved more, yet here she was again, letting herself fall for a man that she couldn’t be with even if he wanted her back.
Wrapped up in her thoughts, she nearly walked into Cain when he came to a stop. Banishing her depressing thoughts with a shake of her head, she glanced around. She realized that she must have been on autopilot for a while, because she didn’t recognize any of their surroundings. The bare deciduous trees had been replaced by evergreens as far as she could see. Patches of snow had melted on the ground, revealing a forest floor that was littered with browned pine needles.
Looking past Cain, she realized they were near the edge of a
cliff. She took a few steps forward to see that the cliff dropped off sharply. As if a giant had run its finger through the mountainside, there was another cliff on the other side, too far to jump, probably even by Cain’s standards.
“I will go first,” he said from behind her.
She looked back at him. “What?”
For a moment, she thought that he expected her to jump, but he nodded towards the left. She followed his gaze. Several yards away a large tree had fallen, bridging the two cliffs. It looked like it had been there a long time and its knotty roots still twisted into the earth.
Sarah followed Cain over to the tree, feeling queasy with apprehension. Up close, she could see that the bark had been worn off on one side, and the roots looked decayed.
“Isn’t there another way around?” she asked.
Cain glanced back at her, smirking. “Afraid of heights?”
She frowned. “No, I’m afraid of walking over canyons on rotten logs.”
“It is a gully,” he corrected. “There is a river below. You are unlikely to die if you fall.”
“That’s a relief,” she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. She peeked over the edge to see that he was right. Far below—much farther than she’d want to fall—was a rapidly moving river. She couldn’t make them out very well, but she thought that she saw rocks jutting up from the riverbed.
When she looked back to Cain, he was already crossing. Holding his arms out to maintain equilibrium, he moved across in long, sure strides. She thought that she heard the wood strain as he reached the center, but seconds later he was safely on the other side.
It scared her, but Sarah didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. She’d spent the past few days feeling like a helpless nitwit, and this was one thing she would have to do on her own.
The wood creaked as she stepped onto the base of the tree. One foot in front of the other, she began to walk forward. When she reached the point where the ground fell off, she stopped.
“Don’t laugh,” she called out to Cain.
Sinking down to her feet, Sarah sat on the tree trunk and began scooting across. Cain made no effort to hide his amusement, but she ignored the sound of his chuckling, keeping her focus solely on the tree beneath her.
Just past the middle of the tree, one of her shoes came loose. She tried to grip it with the tips of her toes, but a strong wind whipped through the gully, whisking it away. Groaning, she leaned over to watch her shoe fall.
When she heard the crack, she experienced a second of utter disbelief. How many things could possibly go wrong in one person’s life?
The log didn’t break, but anxiety locked her muscles. When she looked back up to Cain, his expression was sober. He crouched down onto his knees and extended a long arm.
“Come. Take my hand.” His tone was even and controlled, and it centered her. Gingerly, she scooted forward again.
Cain’s hand was still a few feet away when she heard the next cracking sound, this time accompanied by a loud snap! She reached out for Cain as she began to slide backwards. As the tree disappeared beneath her and she began to fall, Sarah thought she felt his touch, but fear had clenched her eyes shut.
Her stomach flipped as she became completely airborne. The fall lasted longer than she anticipated, yet was over in an instant. She thought that maybe she would see her life flash before her eyes, but there was only cold darkness.
* * *
Cain reached for a rock, but there was no purchase to be gained and within seconds he was once again at the mercy of the fierce current. As he fought to stay afloat, he also battled against his instinct to shift. In his wolf form, he could easily dig his claws into the riverbed and pull himself ashore. But he could not shift and still hold on to the human.
She was prone in his arms, and he suspected that the fall had knocked the consciousness from her, or at least that was what he hoped. He did not have much time to contemplate it. If the fall had not killed her, the freezing water, which felt like blades on his flesh, soon would.
The next rock he reached for was jagged. It bit into the skin of his hand, but did not give way. Dragging himself up against the current, Cain managed to stand. Carrying the female in both arms, he ignored the cold and the pain, and stalked to the shore.
Laying her on the riverbank, he tried to calm himself long enough to find a pulse. He took in her appearance with no small amount of horror. He could see the veins running under her translucent skin and her lips had turned blue. Her chest was not rising, and he could not feel a pulse.
Panic had him ripping open her jacket, and then her shirt. He flattened his hands over her chest and pressed down. When she didn’t respond he pressed harder, and then harder. The sound of the river fell away, until all he could hear was the sound of blood rushing in his head and the two words that would not stop echoing in his consciousness: my fault, my fault, my fault.
He could have taken the long route. It would have added an extra day to their time, but it was safer. It was not worry for his pack or his family that drove him to take the shortcut. It was only the selfish desire to have her gone from his life. He wanted to put her behind him so that he could focus on the things that mattered—on anything besides the consuming desire to take her as his mate.
She coughed, and Cain felt his world click back into place. He took her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as she emptied the water from her lungs. Once her coughing subsided, she began to shake. He held her tightly, trying to transfuse his warmth into her trembling form.
“I los-st my other s-shoe,” she said through chattering teeth.
Cain stroked her hair, his own hand shaking. “We will get you new ones.”
He felt her nod, accepting his answer. She murmured something into his chest. Cain caught the word “cold” but nothing else. He did not ask her to repeat herself, but instead just pulled her tighter into his embrace. It had been a long time since he had felt so many emotions all at once. He did not know what the next day or even the next hour would bring, but in that moment, she was his, and he was not letting her go.
9
“Is this your den?” Sarah asked as Cain set her down on the floor. The ground beneath her was unusually soft, and after running her hands over it, she realized it was some sort of pelt.
Cain had been carrying her for a long time, long enough for the sun to begin to sink, leaving streaks of pink, gold, and red across the sky. Without her glasses, the Appalachian sunset looked like an expansive watercolor, majestic, but undefined.
As the sun had slipped behind the mountains, they too had slipped, into a small cave, the entrance to which was obscured by a blanket of dormant overgrowth. It was cold inside, but not nearly as cold as it had been outside. Cain had carried her down a narrow passageway, his booted footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
“No,” he replied, and she was relieved to hear the familiar hint of humor in his tone. His face had been grave since they left the river, and nothing she’d thought of to say had made a crack in his façade.
She sat up on her elbow. “Where are we, then?”
The room was too dark for her to even see her own hand, let alone make out any of her surroundings. She heard the sound of Cain rifling through his bag, and then the striking of a match. Orange light emanated from the small flame, and Sarah watched as he lowered the match to a thatch of dried brush, positioned under a small gathering of branches. He leaned down to blow gently on the young flame, until it gained traction, overtaking the branches and growing into a crackling fire.
“This place is…” He trailed off, and Sarah could see him looking around the room, a strange expression on his face. “It is where members of a pack can go for privacy.”
She joined him in his perusal of the room. It was smaller than the cave they’d stayed in their first night together, no bigger than her bedroom back home. The only thing in the room besides the fire pit was a stack of neatly folded furs in one corner. The walls seemed to glitter, and at first s
he thought that there was water trickling down them. Crawling to the nearest, she ran her hand over the gray stone. Flecks of a shimmering stone were imbedded in the walls, making them sparkle in the firelight.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. She heard Cain come up behind her, and she tilted her head up to look at him.
“If I shift, we can reach my den in an hour,” he told her. “But first I want to get you dry.”
Sarah looked down at her damp clothes. She’d been vaguely aware of the fact that her jacket and shirt had been torn, but now her face heated at the realization that her bra, and more embarrassingly, her flabby stomach, were on full display.
“Get undressed,” Cain ordered, going over to the pile of furs. He handed one to her, a large russet hide. “You can cover yourself with this.”
Sarah accepted the fur, but made no move to undress. After a moment of staring at her, Cain took the hint. He pressed his lips together in disapproval, but turned away.
As she started peeling off her clothes, Cain began undressing as well. She fumbled with her bra as he removed his shirt. She was close enough to see the sharp panels in his powerful back, and the large muscles of his shoulders. There were scars on his back, lots of them, but they only served to make him look more masculine, something she hadn’t known was possible.
When he began working at the button of his jeans, Sarah knew she should look away. It was the respectful, decent thing to do. But she couldn’t.
She had never been much of a “butt girl”. She liked nice faces, thick hair, and she had a soft spot for muscular abs. Cain had all of those things, and he also had a gorgeous ass. There were so many words she could use to describe it: firm, shapely, taut and toned. She was nearly overcome with the desire to touch and squeeze him, and had to clench her hands into tight fists.