Born Wild

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Born Wild Page 4

by Nikki Jefford


  Wolfrik didn’t budge. “What are you doing roaming around so far from the den?” he demanded.

  “I needed some fresh air,” Kallie said in a sharp tone that sounded like it came from someone else.

  Wolfrik went still. A second later, he threw back his head and laughed. It didn’t last long, and the bitter ring to it didn’t make Kallie feel any better about the situation.

  Wolfrik leaned in, mashing his chest against her breasts. His muscles were so very hard and firm. His erection pressed into her thigh. She had to bite her tongue to keep from moaning. Even the slightest whimper would not go unnoticed with his face so close to her lips.

  Wolfrik’s eyes bore into hers. “Why are you really out here?”

  Kallie squirmed beneath him. Big mistake. She only succeeded in rubbing against the firm, muscled body weighing her down.

  “Get off me,” she repeated.

  Wolfrik raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

  Kallie glared up at him, angry that the beast of a man was intent on dominating her. She wasn’t about to share her plans with him. He might try to stop her from leaving her pack. As soon as he went on his way, she’d take a different route out of the hollow.

  “I wanted to get away for a while,” she snapped. “They barely let me leave the den, not since my injury.” Her last words came out with a bitter ring.

  Wolfrik studied her face a moment then lifted himself off her chest. Muscles corded in his arms, which he planted on either side of her, bearing his weight so he didn’t crush her. Blood trickled down the arm she’d bitten.

  Cool air encircled Kallie’s breasts and teased her nipples into points.

  Wolfrik smiled down at her.

  “Careful, Kallie. Some males might take biting as an invitation. I haven’t been with a female in a long time. I don’t need much encouragement.”

  The warning only elevated Kallie’s desire.

  Her hips threatened to arch and give Wolfrik all the invitation he needed.

  She wasn’t the same shifter he remembered either, not that he’d remember someone as insignificant as herself when he’d had a strong and beautiful pureblood like Sasha to romp around with in the woods. At least Wolfrik didn’t look at her like she was nothing more than a potential breeder. If he took her, it would be to fulfill his own selfish needs. Kallie wasn’t opposed to pleasure for pleasure’s sake. She’d love to see the look in Palmer’s eyes if he could see her now, naked under the “half-mad” wolf, as Francine had so callously called Wolfrik.

  A feeling of recklessness came over her. Kallie had half a mind to roll over onto her stomach and get onto all fours. It was all the permission Wolfrik would need to make good on his thinly veiled threat.

  He didn’t scare her.

  This might be her last chance to enjoy her mating rights before heading into the unknown. It was the best final farewell to Wolf Hollow that Kallie could expect. But before she could turn over, Wolfrik’s shoulders relaxed and he sighed.

  “You’re lucky I’m not in the mood.”

  He pushed away from the ground—away from her—and got to his feet.

  Without another word, Wolfrik took off at a brisk stride into the ferns and trees.

  Kallie stared after him in shock.

  That was it?

  He was leaving her, naked, on the ground?

  Not even Palmer had made her feel as humiliated as she did now.

  Belittled. Scorned. Rejected.

  Angry tears pooled at the corners of Kallie’s eyes.

  Goodbye to Wolf Hollow and good riddance, she thought bitterly as she got to her feet and brushed dirt off her arms. Her ankle throbbed as she put weight on her bad foot. She hissed in discomfort and eased off. She should have stayed on the ground and shifted the moment Wolfrik walked away. The problem was, she couldn’t turn back into a wolf yet, not until she calmed down. Her body still yearned for fulfillment, and it made it difficult for her to focus on the shift.

  Kallie limped to the nearest tree and rested a hand on the trunk. The sound of a snapping twig made her tense. Before she had a chance to panic, Wolfrik strode out of the forest, dressed in pants, his shirt wadded into a ball in his hands.

  He walked up to Kallie and held out his top.

  Fresh tears threatened to flood over her eyes.

  Wolfrik hadn’t abandoned her. He’d gone to get his shirt and offer it to her.

  The desire Kallie had felt earlier was replaced with something far more alarming. A feeling resembling affection crashed over her at Wolfrik’s unexpected kindness.

  “Take it,” Wolfrik said, shaking his shirt at her.

  “I can’t,” Kallie said. His shirt would be wasted on her once she shifted and left the hollow.

  “I insist.”

  Their eyes locked. Kallie was the first to look away. She snatched the shirt from Wolfrik, eager to cover herself up even though it was her emotions, and not her nudity, that left her feeling exposed.

  Kallie pulled Wolfrik’s shirt over her head. It smelled like forest, river, and rugged male. She could always fold it up and leave it on the ground for Wolfrik to find after she left.

  Kallie didn’t really want to leave home, and maybe she wouldn’t have to. Wolfrik had given her another idea.

  If she could convince him to take her as his bedmate, Palmer would move on. The man was looking for a third mate to breed with. All Kallie needed to do was become the opposite—a wayward she-wolf who took care of the needs of their only pureblooded male until he selected a suitable mate. By the time that happened, Palmer wouldn’t want her anymore, especially not after she chose bending over for Wolfrik over breeding with him. That would buy her more time to work on developing a skill her pack could value. Tabor had been good to her when she needed healing. Perhaps he would be open to teaching her everything he knew about herbs and salves. But first she needed to shake off Palmer.

  She’d have to tread carefully with Wolfrik. Kallie wasn’t about to throw herself at the wild wolf. He said he wasn’t in the mood tonight, but he’d also said he hadn’t been with a female in a long time. If she kept her eyes open for the right opportunity, maybe she could find a way to convince Wolfrik that even a disabled shifter could please him.

  She tugged Wolfrik’s shirt over her head, which barely covered her backside.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He nodded dismissively. “I’ll walk you back to the glade.”

  Her body shivered with pleasure when Wolfrik walked beside her, close enough that his arm brushed hers every few steps. He didn’t speak, and Kallie was content to walk in silence and bask in the contentment of his presence. Something about him made her feel safe.

  The forest trail skirted the Manama River and led back into the woods. In certain parts the trees made way to small meadows that offered stunning views of the eastern mountains, rising beyond the den. The stars shone bright in the clear sky. As Kallie looked out across the meadow, her spirit soared free for the first time since she’d been injured.

  She came to a stop and was grateful when Wolfrik stayed beside her, as though in no more of a hurry than she to return to the glade.

  Kallie sucked in a breath. “Is there any part of it you miss?” she asked. “Did you get a chance to roam free for a time with no one to answer to besides yourself?”

  Wolfrik stiffened. His hands balled into fists before he answered in a low, resigned voice.

  “I wouldn’t wish the outside world on anyone.” He turned and assessed her slowly, looking her up and down. “Don’t go getting any bad ideas into your head.”

  “Like I said, I wanted some air.”

  Wolfrik snorted. “Because air is so hard to come by living in the woods.”

  Kallie shrugged. “It feels that way sometimes.”

  Wolfrik leaned into her close enough for his breath to brush
over her neck. Speaking of needing air . . . He sucked it right out of her lungs, but instead of wanting to flee, her body ached to feel those wolfish lips on hers.

  Wolfrik’s gaze drifted down her body, hovering in the place where his shirt ended at her upper thighs. “Not enjoying the party?” he asked huskily.

  “No,” Kallie said simply.

  Wolfrik nodded and took a step back, giving her more room but leaving her cold.

  “That old woman couldn’t predict the sunrise.” He grunted and looked into the dark forest.

  “You had your fortune told?” Kallie’s mouth hung slightly ajar. That was an image she could hardly envision.

  “She insisted. Probably the only entertainment she gets at her age.”

  “Probably,” Kallie said. “She spoke to me briefly, and I’m inclined to agree with you.” She gathered her thick mass of wavy hair into her hands and offered him a smile, but it wasn’t her lips he was looking at, but her thighs as the shirt hiked up. Kallie dropped her arms and pressed them against her sides, weighing the shirt down.

  Wolfrik’s lips puckered. They were full and held a devious slant. She imagined them on her breasts and between her legs, which made her flush from her cheeks to her chest as the images inside her head became more graphic.

  Feeling reckless, she relaxed her arms and rubbed the hem of Wolfrik’s shirt between her fingers. His gaze zeroed in on the movement as though he were an eagle watching a mouse nibbling at a root on the ground—an extremely hungry eagle. Kallie’s heartbeat quickened.

  The hoot of an owl caused them both to jerk and lift their heads to the tree line. As soon as they lowered their chins, Wolfrik’s eyes found Kallie’s in the dark. They were sharp and had an eerie glow about them like a predator’s, which is what he was from head to toe—every inch.

  She shivered.

  Wolfrik’s voice dipped low. “You’re playing with fire, Kallie.”

  “I can handle the heat.”

  Warmth. Light. Passion. Yes. She wanted him. She wanted to feel his fervor.

  With an amused grin, Wolfrik gave a gentle shake of his head.

  “I’m letting you off the hook tonight. You’ll come to your senses in the morning and remember to stay away from me.”

  They walked the rest of the way to the glade in silence. It was oddly comfortable, maybe because Kallie was too busy holding a conversation inside her head to worry up any words between them.

  Wolfrik’s warning felt more like a promise if she sought him out again. She wouldn’t have to swing her hips, bat her eyelashes, or waste precious time with futile flirting. Unlike Raider—back when they were patrol partners—Wolfrik wouldn’t hesitate to take what was offered right in front of his nose, and once he did, Palmer would be forced to back off.

  A contented smile spread across Kallie’s lips. She hadn’t really wanted to leave her pack, and now she wouldn’t have to as long as she could get Wolfrik to take the bait—her.

  Kallie was prepared to walk through fire to get what she wanted.

  Oh, yes, she could handle the heat. There was fire in her yet. If only Wolfrik would step into the flames.

  chapter four

  Kallie awoke to Franny’s wailing the next morning. She missed the days before her injury had brought her into the den, when birdsong had been the sound to awaken her.

  As the high-pitched scream continued, families in the den stirred and conversations started. She heard a thump followed by a female reprimand of, “Yazz, I told you not to jump until you reach the last rung of the ladder. You’re going to sprain your ankle one of these times!”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  Gradually, the scent of fire tickled Kallie’s nostrils inside her low shelter made from sturdy branches, thatched with a mixture of materials from the forest and the human world, scraps of nylon and tarp with bits of plastic and patches of leaves. A mat made of woven grass protected her human body from the cool ground and insects, and a musty-smelling blanket kept her warm when the temperature dipped early in the morning.

  Before her injury, she’d slept in wolf form snuggled against her friends for warmth beneath the open sky. Since taking up residence in the den, there were nights Kallie slunk out of her shelter after everyone had gone to sleep and shifted before finding a soft patch of ground to nestle into, but sleeping alone made her wolf’s heart ache with a loneliness that ate away at her all night. She slept slightly better alone in human form.

  The smell of smoke thickened. Kallie kept her eyes closed and remained resting—in no hurry to begin yet another mundane day of helping around the den and its community garden.

  Franny’s crying stopped, but it had long since been replaced by a young chorus of sibling quarrels and complaints, followed by older grumbles.

  “But I always fetch the water.”

  “Well, you’re the oldest.”

  “I’ll always be the oldest.”

  “Which means you’ll probably be the first to start a family, and then you can be the first to have your oldest child fetch the water.”

  “I’d have my children take turns. You’re no fair.”

  Footsteps scuffled past Kallie’s shelter. Someone yawned nearby. Eventually the voices settled as shifters went about their morning routines. One of the parents would shift and hunt down a rodent or rabbit while the other parent harvested just enough vegetables and grains from the garden to feed their family for the morning. Some families had a designated hunter, which was as likely to be female as male, while others traded duties regularly.

  With one mate nursing and the other pregnant, Palmer did the hunting for his family. He and Francine lived in a shed with Trish beside them in a hut of her own. Kallie’s shelter was roughly three paces away from Trish’s dwelling. Too close for comfort—like Palmer had already lined her up as one of his mates.

  “That’s enough moping, Camilla.” Francine’s voice cut across the den. “You need to rejoin your packmates for breakfast in the glade.”

  “I don’t feel like it,” Camilla whined.

  “Your partner is waiting for you.”

  “He shouldn’t be my partner. Raider should.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.”

  A female cleared her throat gently.

  “I’d be happy to fill in for Camilla on patrol.”

  Kallie opened her eyes and peered into the murky light of her shelter. She couldn’t see Elsie, but she could just picture her hopeful expression based on the tone of her voice. Kallie pushed the blanket off and sat up quietly, listening all the while. She, too, would jump at a chance to step in for patrol duty.

  “You have no clue how patrolling works,” Francine said.

  “I stood in for Raider while he was away. Peter and Jordan gave me the rundown.”

  At the mention of Raider, or perhaps Jordan, Camilla burst into sobs.

  “Stop it! You’re behaving worse than Franny.” The snap returned to Francine’s words as she addressed her stepdaughter.

  Camilla sniffled. “I can’t help it. My heart’s broken. How can you stand there being so cruel?”

  Camilla had always put her emotions on public display whereas Kallie liked to keep her personal life private—at least as much as possible living in an open community. But it occurred to her this was the first morning her own heart didn’t twist at the mention of Raider, nor had she gone to sleep pining after the mated he-wolf. Instead, she’d hugged Wolfrik’s shirt against her belly and inhaled his musky, masculine scent.

  “Elsie, dear, why don’t you run along and help Heidi? I’m sure she could use it more than the shifters in the glade.” Francine didn’t mask the condescending lilt of her voice.

  “Let me know if you change your mind,” Elsie said cheerfully.

  Kallie heard the brush of Elsie’s long dress against the shifter’s legs as she walked away. Francine kept si
lent for what felt like several minutes before speaking in a low, warning tone.

  “Let that be a warning to you, Camilla. Go join your partner before that half-breed tries to take over your duties.”

  Camilla huffed. “What do I care? With more shifters making claims, Jager should put her on patrol. Why’s she standing around, wasting her time in the den? She’s not crippled like Kallie.”

  Kallie clenched her jaw so tight it ached. Camilla was equally callous toward all shifters despite claiming Kallie, Rosalie, and Olivia were as dear to her as sisters.

  “Emerson’s on council, yet I seem to be the only one with two licks of sense,” Camilla concluded.

  “That’s debatable,” Francine answered.

  Kallie waited for them to move away before pulling Wolfrik’s shirt off. She bundled the soft fabric with careful folds before sticking it safely beneath her blanket and emerging from her shelter. The low ceiling required her to crawl out. As fresh air hit her body, she shifted into her fur and sprang into the forest to join the mated shifters in their hunt for meat.

  After catching and devouring three unfortunate mice, Kallie wandered back to the den, giving Palmer’s clan wide berth. The other families had already finished up their meals and were cleaning up.

  “Who wants to continue their reading lessons?” a shifter named Melissa called out.

  After Heidi’s daughter, Amy, yelled, “Me!” the other youngsters took up her chant.

  “Me! Me! Me!”

  Soon the younger children were racing to the center of the den, sitting cross-legged in front of Melissa, looking up with eager eyes and wide grins. More mothers joined the group, which was good, considering Melissa couldn’t help out individual pups when she had a group of thirteen staring up at her.

  Meanwhile, Garrick and Palmer led a small group of young teen shifters into the woods to teach them hunting skills. The previous day had been tracking.

  Kallie felt a weight lift off her back every time Palmer left for the morning. Unfortunately, she needed a dress to replace the one she’d ripped off, and Francine was in charge of doling out clothing for the den.

 

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