by Viola Rivard
Setting Sarah on her feet, he folded his arms across his chest, glaring down at the floor. She followed his gaze downward. There was a stick lying on the ground, and next to it, written into the dirt in scratchy letters was the word: GREYSTONE
She looked up at Cain, who was running a hand through his unkempt hair. His face was strained.
“What does it mean?”
He sighed, walking over to a flat rock. Chucking his bag on the floor, he sat down and put his head in his hands.
“Greystone is another one of our dens,” he explained. “They had to have left a few days ago.”
Sarah approached him cautiously, slowly sinking down to sit next to him. “You didn’t know they were going to leave?”
Cain lifted his head. “My brothers would not have moved the pack without me unless they sensed danger.”
Brothers. It was the first time Cain had mentioned that he had siblings, and she filed that tidbit away for future reference.
“I’m sure everything will be okay,” she said, placing a hand on his back.
He opened his mouth to reply, but her stomach growled loudly. She gave him a sheepish grin, and to her relief, he returned the smile. Reaching down, he unzipped his bag and began sifting through the contents. Sarah peeked over his shoulder, curious to get a glimpse at its contents.
There were a bunch of odds and ends that she couldn’t make out, but it was mostly filled with bottles. Her brow wrinkled and she squinted to get a better look at them. It was medicine, and a lot of it.
Cain found what he was looking for, a candy bar, which he handed to her. She accepted it with a murmured ‘thanks’.
“I will hunt once we get to higher ground. We should not stay here longer than we have to,” he said.
“Where did you get all of that medicine?” she asked, ignoring the candy bar.
Bluntly, he replied, “I stole it.”
“Is someone sick? One of your brothers?”
Cain didn’t answer. Sarah leaned over, grabbing a few of the bottles from inside the bag. She lifted them up to read the inscriptions. Most of them she recognized, even with her limited training in the medical field. She held one up to him.
“Do you know what this is?”
He looked obstinate for a moment, but eventually shook his head.
“It’s lithium. It’s used to treat bipolar disorder.” At the confusion in his face, she added, “It’s a mood disorder.”
He considered her for a moment, and then leaned down to grab a few more bottles. He handed her a few, categorizing them as he went. “I know this one is good for fevers, and this is good for coughing. This one is for stomach problems, nose problems.” He waved a hand at the rest of the contents of the bag. “I do not know what the rest do. I just took them.”
She tilted her head. “Were you looking for something specific?”
“Breathing,” he replied without hesitation. “Something to help with breathing.”
“Like asthma?”
“I am not familiar with the condition.”
“Tell me the symptoms.”
She listened patiently as he tried to explain the problems, and it struck her more than ever how different their worlds were. For all of his strength and physical prowess, he didn’t know anything about sickness and disease. For the first time, she felt like she might actually be able to pay him back for helping her.
“It sounds like asthma,” she surmised. “When we get to Greystone, how about I look into it for you? I can do an examination, nothing too in-depth, but I can at least give you some advice on what will help.”
“Where did you learn all of this?”
“I went to nursing school, well, I mean, I’m going to nursing school. There’s still a lot I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’m pretty sure I can tell if someone has asthma.”
“I would be in your debt,” he said, giving her a fond look that made her stomach flip.
She gave a self-depreciating shrug of her shoulders. “It’s not a problem. You’ve done so much for me already.” Quietly, she added, “You saved my life.”
She still hadn’t thanked him for that. He had dove into the river for her—he could have been killed. It was only then that the significance of that struck Sarah. He could have died for her…
“Greystone is a little over a day away,” he said, placing his hand on the crook of her neck. “You have my word that I will see you safely back to your kind.”
Sarah forced a smile. “I know, and it’s not a big deal. I’m not really in a rush to get back. I can stay as long as you need me to.”
That was only partially true. Her winter break would be over in a week, and she’d have to resume classes, but she didn’t really care at the moment. She was just happy that she would have more time to spend with Cain, regardless of the reason.
They packed away his medicines and headed towards the exit. His pack hadn’t left anything behind, so Sarah was still barefoot. She expected him to pick her up as they reached the mouth of the den, but he stopped short, his body tense. Sarah looked over to where he was staring and her heart nearly seized. Standing a few yards away from them was a man in combat fatigues. She didn’t have to squint her eyes to tell that he was pointing a gun at them.
12
Cain held his wolf at bay, warring against his instincts as he analyzed the male before them. He had a tall, athletic build and a shaved head. His scent was human and his clothing signified that he was military.
The military had never breached his territory. The last he heard, they were at least two territories over, dealing with a rampaging cat tribe in the lowlands. Had this been why his brothers moved the pack?
“Drop the bag and raise your hands where I can see them,” the male ordered from behind his gun. Cain glared at him, but complied. He would not risk his own life for pride, let alone the female’s.
As the soldier slowly advanced on them, Cain honed in on his movements, searching for a weakness in his stance. The human was well-trained, and there was no angle from which Cain could attack without being shot first.
“You too, hands up,” he said, pointing his gun at the female.
Cain’s blood boiled, and he could feel his claws straining beneath his flesh as he fought the urge to shift and protect her. He glanced to the side. Although he could smell her fear, the human looked perfectly calm, almost bored. Arms wrapped around her waist, she pursed her lips at the soldier.
“Who do you think you are pointing a gun at us?” she demanded. Her voice had taken on a strange inflection, and Cain recognized the accent from his brief encounters with rural humans.
“I’m with the US—”
“Look, I don’t care who you are,” she interjected. “My daddy’s a state senator. You better point that gun somewhere else or he’ll have your badge.”
The man froze. He did not move his gun, but to Cain’s surprise, he looked flustered.
“I’m not a cop, I’m with the National Guard,” he grunted.
“Well then why don’t you do your job and go find some werebears to chase around,” she shot back defiantly.
Cain’s hands clenched into fists. He did not trust himself to speak, but he could not understand why she was antagonizing the soldier with the gun pointed at them.
The man shifted positions, pointing his gun at Cain. “And what the hell is he?”
She snorted loudly. “He is my boyfriend, Troy.”
The man eyed Cain suspiciously. “And what are you doing out here?”
“We came out here to see the werebears,” she said.
The man abruptly lowered his gun, giving Sarah an annoyed look. “Do you have any idea how many stupid college kids like you we have to—”
This time it was Cain who cut him off, moving with preternatural speed to disarm the soldier. The human male fought back, but Cain’s sheer strength won out. He flung the gun away, pinning the human to the ground by his throat. Fury rippled over him in hot, unrelenting waves.
&nb
sp; “Cain!”
He stopped at the sound of the human’s shout, but did not remove his hand from the man’s neck. The man struggled beneath Cain, his face turning red.
“Cain, you have to let him go.” She was beside him now, her tone frantic.
Cain turned to growl at her. “He could have harmed you.”
She tensed, but did not flinch. “He was only doing his job. You can’t kill him.” She reached out, placing a hand on the back of Cain’s neck. “Please,” she said emphatically. “Please, just let him go.”
* * *
Sarah was relieved when Cain pulled back, releasing the soldier. The man scrambled to get away, but Cain brought his fist down on his skull, knocking the man unconscious.
“There will be more,” he said. “We should go.”
He didn’t look at her before hefting Sarah over one shoulder and grabbing his bag. She passively accepted the gruff treatment, staring back at the fallen soldier as Cain stalked away.
Asking Cain not to kill the soldier had been a knee-jerk reaction. The more she thought about it, though, the more she wondered if she had made the right decision. All she had thought was that she didn’t want to be an accomplice to murder, not the long-term impact it might have on Cain and his pack.
After making it into the safety of the forest, Cain stopped, removing his shirt and kicking off his boots in preparation to shift. When he moved to unbutton his jeans, he stopped, glancing over at her. Instinctively, she looked away.
“How did you know what to say to him?” he asked quietly.
Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know. I just acted like a regular, dumb twenty-something-year-old. I’m just glad he bought it.”
She felt him come up behind her and place his hands on her hips. “You could have told him who you were. Asked him to take you back to your family.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. She turned, stepping up onto his boots to get her feet out of the snow. “Do you really think I would do something like that?”
Cain pressed his forehead against hers. Firmly, he said, “If anything like that happens again, you are not to defend me.”
“You need to get back to your pack.” She gave him a weak smile. “Worry about yourself. Nobody needs me.”
His hands came up to frame her face. “I need you to be safe.”
The look in his eyes unnerved Sarah. Palms sweating, she gripped his shirt and stood on the tips of her toes, kissing him. Like the rest of his body, Cain’s lips were warm and firm, but with a streak of sensuality that made her insides quiver.
When Cain didn’t kiss her back, she felt as if a rock had dropped in her stomach. She pulled away, prepared to apologize, but before she could say anything, he shoved her down. Sarah yelped as her butt hit the snow. Cain was on her before she had time to process what was happening, his body covering hers, his mouth covering hers.
She wrapped her arms around Cain’s neck, holding onto him as he assaulted her mouth. His kiss was brutal and dominant. He thrust his tongue into her mouth as one of his fangs, which he had been so careful with the night before, cut her bottom lip. The tangy, coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.
Her adrenaline surged, heightening all of her senses. His masculine scent became a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. It permeated every cell of her body, making her nerve endings sing for him. The snow chilled her back, but everywhere he touched blazed with a searing intensity.
It wasn’t normal to want someone so badly, to react to someone so strongly. It was that, and not the fact that he was ripping her pants off, that frightened her. She had kissed men before—she had even had sex with a man, but this was so much more than that. It was raw, primitive, and animalistic, and she couldn’t get enough of it.
When Cain unzipped his jeans, she was waiting, eager to catch him as he sprang free. He was a solid, heavy weight in her hand. She squeezed him until he growled into her mouth—a warning. A warning that he was the one in control. Ignoring him, she increased the pressure of her grip.
Cain pulled away from her face, snarling at her. His wild eyes blazed with equal parts anger and lust. The muscles in his face were taut and straining, as if he was fighting a shift. This was not the man who had taken her gently the night before, the man who had held her until she fell asleep.
This was the wolf.
He stared at her for only the span of a breath, but in that short time, she realized just how hopeless her situation was. A man could make a woman feel special, make her feel desired, make her feel important—and it could all be a lie. She knew this all too well, and it was exactly why she had been able to steel herself against Cain.
Looking into the wolf’s eyes, she realized that it wasn’t anger she saw there. It was a fierce possessiveness. His eyes told her more than his lips ever could.
He wanted her.
He needed her.
She belonged to him.
As her mind was reeling to take this all in, Cain snatched her hand away from him and turned her, forcing her onto her knees. There was nothing gentle about the way he took her. One second she felt him positioning himself behind her, and the next he was slamming into her. She cried out, gripping at the wet earth for purchase as he began pumping into her.
His pace was relentless, and only the adrenaline coursing through her veins made it more pleasure than pain. Claws—they had to be claws—punctured the flesh of her hips, helping him to latch on as he battered against her.
Between the frigid snow on her tender nipples, the sting of his grip on her hips, and his hard cock spearing her with pleasure and pain, she was overloaded with sensation. Her orgasm crashed into her with such force that she momentarily felt as if she’d been thrown from her body. Nothing existed—not the cold, not the pain, not even the pleasure—just the incredibly singular feeling of utter release.
She came back to herself in a daze, just in time to feel Cain’s final thrust. There was no ambiguity this time; it hurt. Her pained moan was lost under his deafening roar. The sound reverberated through her bones as he climaxed, pouring himself deep inside of her.
Once he had given her all he had, Cain collapsed, pulling her against his body. The aftershocks of her orgasm, coupled with renewed awareness of the cold, had her shaking in his arms.
Sarah didn’t regret the night they had shared together. It had been everything she could have hoped for: tender, passionate, and beautiful. For a little while, she had even been able to pretend that he cared about her. It was the perfect memory to take and to keep for the rest of her life.
But she regretted this.
This, what they had just done, was none of those things. Cain had demolished her—shattered her into a million pieces and she had loved every second of it, even the pain. Especially the pain. It was more real than anything she had ever experienced.
Cain was nuzzling her neck, his fangs lightly abrading her skin. He was still inside of her, and she could feel him growing hard again. As if it hadn’t just been torn apart, her body throbbed in response, eager to accommodate him again.
The second time was slower, gentler, but no less primal. He took her like an animal taking its mate, she thought.
Sarah knew that she would never be the same. For the rest of her life, no sex would ever be like this. For the rest of her life, no man would ever be Cain.
* * *
From his perch at the top of the precipice, Cain could see smoke coiling up from the distant lowlands. It was part of his territory, and likely the work of humans, though he had no desire to find out. He had learned a long time ago that with that species, it was best to cut one’s losses. No piece of land was worth dying for, not when an alpha had a pack and a family to provide for.
After climbing the precipice, Cain had a better idea of where he was, but still did not know how much time had passed. More than one day, that he knew for certain. The last mating thrall he had experienced had lasted over two nights, and he hadn’t even desired his female. His former mate had satisfied his physical
needs, but this female, Sarah, she had filled parts of him that Cain had not known were empty.
In return, he had ruined her. It was the most selfish thing he had ever done. He was not some juvenile experiencing his first thrall. He could have resisted. The moment she had pressed her lips to his, Cain had been given two choices: reject her, or claim her.
The decision had been made in an instant, yet it had not. It had been inevitable. From the moment he had decided to couple with her, or even before that, when he pulled her from the river, a part of him had known that he would never be able to let her go.
In his wolf form, Cain padded away from the precipice, heading back into the quiet forest. Sarah would be awake soon. Nearly as affected by the mating thrall as he, she would be disoriented as well as frightened to wake alone in the dark cave where he had tucked her away. He would have to hunt quickly and return to her.
Tonight, they would set out for Greystone and with any luck he would be back home with his pack and his family by sunrise. But before that, he would have to explain to Sarah that she was now his mate, and what that meant for her future.
Part II
13
Mine.
He had obliterated her, and there was no going back. Every time his claws pierced her flesh, every time his teeth punctured her neck, and every time he thrust into her with wild abandon, Cain had branded her. Beneath him—and he wouldn’t have it any other way—she became something else, something inhuman.
He had destroyed her, and she had loved every second of it, had begged him for more. It was as if she had been hollow, not just that day, but her entire life. She had climaxed with him each time, and each time she experienced a fleeting feeling of complete and utter fulfillment. It never lasted, though. Like a junkie, she would crash just minutes later, hollow once more and needing him again. And he was always ready for her.
For a long time, she stared up at the ceiling. There was a small fire, mostly hot embers, but the light reflected off the ceiling, making it shimmer. She thought it looked a lot like the glittering wall where they had first…what? Had sex? Too clinical. Made love? Too intimate. Fucked? Too dispassionate. Mated… Now that was a word with potential. What they had done was primitive and primal. He had taken her like an animal—like a crazed wolf in the body of a man—and now all she could do was stare up at the ceiling in a daze.