Born Wild

by Nikki Jefford

  “No,” Wolfrik growled.

  “Was it because of me?”

  Laughter erupted from Wolfrik’s lips. It rumbled from his belly with such force, he bent over. If only Sparrow knew how little his pack cared about anything to do with her. Foolish human.

  He slipped the pack off, ignoring the pout on Sparrow’s lips. “I brought porridge for tomorrow. I’ll catch something at dinner.”

  “What about lunch?”

  “We don’t eat lunch.”

  “Look at me. I’m skin and bone.” Sparrow lifted her arms, stretching them open wide. “Do you want me to starve before Hawk gets here?”

  Wolfrik’s gut twisted around the name like a snake wanting to devour it whole. Anytime he heard or thought about Hawk, he felt his last meal rise up his throat and burn like acid. He gave a savage snarl.

  Sparrow got to her feet. “I’ll need my strength,” she continued, ignoring Wolfrik’s mounting anger. “After you kill Hawk and his men, we can go back to the compound and free the rest of the shifters. We can make sure the children are returned to their mothers. Maybe your pack can take some of them in, especially your offspring.”

  Wolfrik felt his rage tear him in two from the head down. It was as though his brain had been split apart by a lightning bolt. A flash appeared over his vision before it turned red and blurry.

  “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” he screamed, tearing at his hair and skin. “You’ve done it this time, Sparrow. Couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut. I’m going to rip out your tongue so I never have to listen to your nattering, insolent voice ever again.”

  His arms stung where he’d scratched them. When he looked down, he noticed his claws had extended and torn open his skin. Fresh blood stained his arms.

  Wolfrik lifted his head to the sky and bellowed in agony. It wasn’t the wound that made him roar, but the reminder of the pups he’d been forced to father.

  I can make the pain stop, his wolf called out to him. I don’t trouble myself with paltry human emotions. And I’ll take a chunk out of the human while I’m at it. Teach her a lesson she won’t forget.

  Yes. Good. Wolfrik had had enough of being human for one day. Hell, he’d had enough to last him the remainder of the moon cycle.

  He let go—let the beast take over. Fur sprang over his skin, covering the lacerations on his arms before he ever got onto his hands and knees. He dropped down to complete the shift, fangs extending as he growled.

  Sparrow screamed in terror. Trying to get away, she tripped over a large rock and fell backward.

  Wolfrik leaped off the ground and flew at the human trying to scramble away on her hands and legs. He’d land on her in another second and lock her bony arm between his jaws.

  A flash of dark-brown fur streaked at Wolfrik and crashed into his side, knocking him onto the ground. Wolfrik barked in surprise and scrambled to all four paws, holding his ground a foot from Aden. He had no desire to fight the werewolf.

  Despite his violent intentions seconds before, Wolfrik shifted back into human form. Aden did the same. The werewolf shifter took in Wolfrik’s black eye, his face a mask that showed only mild concern in the purse of his lips.

  “How about we cool off at the river?” Aden suggested.

  Wolfrik grunted. The violent anger he’d felt so acutely moments before had drained, as though Aden had knocked it out of his body when he collided into him.

  Wolfrik started toward the river.

  “Stay here or I will hunt you down,” Aden said to Sparrow. “I have an exceptional sense of smell.”

  If she answered, her words were too soft for Wolfrik to hear. Maybe she’d taken his threat to mind and decided it wise to hold her bloody tongue.

  At the river and out of earshot, Aden asked, “Who did that to your eye?”

  Wolfrik waded through the current, stopping when he was knee deep. He bent down and dropped his arms into the stream, allowing the water to wash away the blood from his self-inflicted wounds.

  “Raider. The mongrel took a cheap shot.”

  “He hit you first?”

  Wolfrik poked at the swollen skin around his eye. “Took me unaware.”

  Aden rubbed his jaw. “Did you provoke him?”

  “No, Mom, he provoked me.” Wolfrik smiled wryly. “Got in my face and told me to stay away from Kallie. He had no right. She’s a grown shifter who can make her own decisions. I doubt she’d appreciate Dipshit making them for her.”

  Aden frowned. “You’re right. Your relationships aren’t any of Raider’s business. It was wrong of him to try and interfere. I’m surprised.”

  “Yeah, well maybe he has a thing for her.”

  Aden shook his head. “No one who has seen him with Jordan would doubt he’s madly in love with his mate.”

  “Maybe he wants two—like his father-in-law.”

  “I don’t think so,” Aden said. “He probably wants to protect Kallie, as he would any female in the pack.”

  Wolfrik snarled. “I’d never hurt a female in our pack.”

  Aden raised a brow and glanced in the direction of the caves.

  “Sparrow’s not part of our pack.”

  “For better or worse, she’s under our protection.”

  “For now,” Wolfrik grumbled.

  “You’re the one who said we need her alive.”

  “I’m trying to remember my reasoning.”

  “Whatever her motives, she freed you. I would not punish such actions.”

  Wolfrik huffed. “Well, we’re not all as insightful as you seem to be.”

  Aden grunted. “Someone has to keep a level head around here.”

  “Yeah, especially since Raider lost his.” Wolfrik’s smile stretched over his cheeks.

  Aden squinted at him. “That pleases you?”

  “Not all wins are physical.” Wolfrik gave his puffy eye one last poke.

  “Why did you try to attack the human? Did she provoke you as well?”

  Wolfrik glanced in the direction of the caves and shrugged. “She didn’t mean to.”

  Aden rubbed his lips together and stared into the current. “I’ll stay with the human again tonight.”

  “No, it’s my turn.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you alone with her.”

  “I’ve cooled down, really. See? Chilling in the river—not a care in the world.”

  Aden scoffed. “Right.”

  Wolfrik kicked water at him. The werewolf shifter just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  “I’m staying,” Aden said. “You can, too, if you really want to, but I doubt you want Raider thinking he scared you away.”

  Wolfrik hissed then laughed a second later. “Are you goading me, werewolf?”

  “Just telling it like I see it, and I really don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you alone with the human.”

  Their eyes locked—well, in Wolfrik’s case, one eye locked onto Aden. They stared each other down, the sound of water gushing by. Wolfrik scratched the stubble below his bottom lip.

  The werewolf shifter was right—Raider’s warning made him want to do the exact opposite and return to Kallie that evening. Let Raider’s imagination chew on the two of them humping all through the night.

  “Fine. But before I go, do you want me to help you hunt Sparrow down?” Wolfrik grinned through clenched teeth. “She took off.”

  chapter sixteen

  Trees whizzed past, branches reaching down to grab her. Sparrow glanced over her shoulder to see if she was being pursued then got whipped in the face by a sagging tree limb when she twisted back around. Her eyes stung. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. And her body groaned as she pushed past the point of exhaustion.

  Her life was turning into one endless sequence of déjà vu.

  “Stay here or I’ll hunt y
ou down,” the neanderthal had warned.

  Yeah, and if I stay, Wolfrik will kill me, her mind answered back.

  It was fight or flight, which gave her little choice. No way could she take on two large shifters who could transform into vicious beasts. She hadn’t even been able to protect herself against Hawk’s men—and they had no claws or fangs.

  Wolfrik’s betrayal stung. She’d freed him. It didn’t matter that she’d done it in part for revenge. She’d always wanted to free him—him and all the other wolf shifters. They shouldn’t be kept in cages. That’s what she’d tried to tell him seconds before he lost his mind.

  What had she said to make him snap?

  Offspring. I reminded him of the breeding.

  “Damn it.”

  Wolfrik was right. She really should keep her mouth shut. Her words had often angered her brother—all the judgments she’d voiced about his operation. It often surprised her how much he’d allowed her to mouth off. He always smiled smugly and said, “I’m in charge and this is the way things are. Better get used to it, little sis, and try to show a little appreciation for the fortunate position you’re in.”

  If she hadn’t fallen in love with a wolf shifter, and kept her mouth shut, she could have lived a comfortable life, but she would have been dead inside.

  “No regrets,” she said bitterly.

  Here she was, running for her life. It was an odd time to look back at her decisions with pride and accept her fate.

  She listened for the sound of pursuit—the heart-stopping crash of a wolf chasing her down—but the forest held a serene silence. Sparrow knew better. She eyed the trees, prepared to climb up one again. Wolfrik would have to shift into human form if he wanted to get her back down, and when he did, she’d make him listen to her. Then she’d promise to be quiet. She didn’t feel like talking to him any more than she had to. Then again, she might lose her temper and call him out for the bastard he was and throw down a string of cusses—and maybe a loose tree limb if she found one within reach.

  She ran and ran, breath coming out in pants. Needles stabbed at her side and irritation crawled up her neck. What kind of game were the wolves playing? Was this sport to them? Did they plan to let her tire herself out first?

  “Savages,” she spat.

  She slowed to a jog, then speed walking, and finally walking. Sweet oxygen flowed in through her nostrils and out through her mouth as she regained her breath. The pain in her side dug in with each step, not letting up until she’d kept to her steady walk long enough to recover.

  She glanced from side to side. All directions appeared the same, and it was impossible to walk straight with the earth plunging into a gully in some areas and rising in steep, rocky peaks in others. She kept to the most level path and worked her way around the obstacles.

  It was reasonable to assume it was still Wolf Hollow territory in which she fled. With the males at the river, she hadn’t dared cross it. For all she knew, she was running straight for the heart of the hollow—where an entire pack of startled wolf shifters would pounce on her.

  Sparrow stopped.

  Now there was a stupid plan.

  She turned around slowly. She needed to find the river again—backtrack for a bit. Was this the way she’d come? Everything looked so similar, and yet unfamiliar. Her entire life had been spent in the city, near the compound.

  Trees, moss, ferns, and brush all blurred together into a tapestry that kept unrolling with every step. As she took it all in, a large brown furry face stared at her from the foliage, and Sparrow gave a scream of surprise.

  It wasn’t the gray form of Wolfrik, which meant it had to be Aden. He was alone and so very large. Sparrow had never seen a wolf his size. He was like a horse among ponies.

  Aden didn’t lunge at her—not even after she screamed. Sparrow clamped her mouth shut and shook a shaky finger at him.

  “You scared me.”

  She waited for him to shift, but he remained in place, eyes watchful and focused solely on her.

  Now what?

  When she began to walk away from him, Aden flashed past her and blocked the path ahead. Sparrow stopped and concentrated on deep, even—calming—breaths.

  She turned and walked the other way, ever aware of the shifter following her. A rough animal trail curved ahead, and Sparrow started for it, only to have Aden head her off again, until he’d herded her back to the caves.

  With a sigh, Sparrow planted herself near the rocks she’d scattered earlier. She took one of the smooth oval-shaped pebbles into her palm, wrapped her fingers around it, and squeezed. Aden sat on his haunches across from her.

  Sparrow moved the rock from one palm to the next, watching Aden as closely as he watched her.

  “Why did you stop him, anyway?” she asked.

  The shifter blinked. Even if he’d been in human form, she doubted he would have answered her. He wasn’t much of a talker from what she could tell, and he had no reason to trust her even if he had been a chatterbox.

  Sparrow dropped the rock over another. They clacked together then sprang apart. She scooped up the rock and dropped it again, repeating the process several times, focusing on the sound of the two rocks hitting together. All the while, she kept her attention on the shifter.

  “You’re lucky, you know. Animals can lie around calm for hours and be perfectly fine. Humans get bored.” She folded her arms across her chest. “We don’t like to sit around doing nothing, unless we have a book or a game—or conversation.” She leaned over her lap and raised her brows.

  The shifter had the audacity to yawn and get onto his belly, rest his large head on his paws, and close his eyes.

  Sparrow snorted. “Am I boring you? Perhaps you’d prefer a song—” She looked at the restful wolf and sighed. “Or a lullaby.”

  Aden’s eyes remained closed, but Sparrow had no doubt he was awake. He wouldn’t round her up only to take a snoozer while he was the only shifter on guard duty.

  She relaxed her arms at her sides, lifted her chest, and sang the first lyrics to come to her. Surprisingly, it was a song she’d come up with after she started falling for Eric. He’d inspired many love songs. She hadn’t sung any since his death. She didn’t think she ever would and she didn’t know why she did now, except that they brought his memory back to her from a happier time when hope and passion had sprung up like wildflowers.

  As the melody belted through her lips and emotion built inside her chest, the song became a declaration, then a plea.

  Come back to me, Eric. Come back.

  Her throat tightened, and tears prickled beyond her eyelids, but she didn’t break down. The words kept coming as the song took over.

  Aden’s eyes fluttered open to watch her, his head still resting on his paws.

  When Sparrow finished the last line of her song, she gasped for breath. She thought that would be the end of it, but soon her lips were moving again. She sang every song she knew then began making up new ones. It didn’t matter if they sucked. There was no one to hear them, besides an idle wolf. She sang herself hoarse. With no one to talk to, what use did she have of her voice, anyway?

  Aden didn’t shift until early evening, and then only to get the fire going.

  Sparrow folded her arms over her chest and clenched her teeth as she watched him. If he wanted to give her the silent treatment, then she’d give it right back. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop her eyes from following his movements any more than a meteor could stop its descent across space. Aden’s preparations offered the only entertainment available. His thick, muscular arm sawed back and forth on the bow drill until fire sparked. He dipped down, full lips blowing the flames to life—kissing the heat. A shiver went through her. She found herself transfixed by his simple actions.

  Aden didn’t stop blowing until a healthy fire roared in the center of the rock-lined pit. Once satisfied, he st
raightened up and gathered kindling from nearby, feeding it to the fire.

  Sparrow got up and helped—to show she wasn’t a helpless damsel from the human world.

  They worked together without a word. Wood snapped, and the fire sparked. Once the pit had been filled, Aden continued collecting kindling, stacking it into a neat pile near the fire. An imposing penis hung between his legs and was difficult not to stare at, especially when it kept staring back. Aden moved around the campsite with ease, as though being naked was more natural to him than wearing clothes.

  He snatched up the pack Wolfrik had hiked in with and bent his head to stare inside before reaching a hand in and pulling out green cloth. He set the pack down carefully and walked around to Sparrow, stopping two feet away, and holding the bunched-up fabric to her.

  “This is for you.”

  The beast decides to speak.

  “What is it?”

  Aden glanced down, his fingers grazing the cloth. He pulled at it a bit then took a step back and held it in front of him by the sleeves. It was a short dress—vibrant green with little white and orange blossoms springing over the short sleeves, scoop-necked top, and loose skirt.

  Sparrow kept her arms at her sides and wrinkled her nose. “I’m not wearing that.”

  “Why not?” Aden glanced at the dress in puzzlement as though expecting to find a rip.

  “Because I’m not some skirt sitting around waiting to be rescued. I’m on the run, remember? Jesus, is this how shifter women are treated? Dressed up and guarded by cavemen? Did you use The Fall as an excuse to act like neanderthals?”

  Their eyes locked, and for the first time, Aden’s eye twitched. The beast was capable of irritation after all. Getting under his skin was nothing to be proud of. He’d shown restraint so far, but that could change in a heartbeat. Like Wolfrik, he was wild—part animal—and unpredictable.

  He slid his bottom teeth from one side to the other. It gave Sparrow the impression that he wanted to bite her. Rather than shrink back, she lifted her shoulders, chest, and head, and pursed her lips.

  Aden slid his teeth back in place and relaxed his jaw, allowing his lips to settle together. He didn’t wad the dress and throw it down. No, he folded it with deliberate patience and set it on a stump. “Wear it or not, makes no difference to me.”