Born Wild

by Nikki Jefford

  He distanced himself from her before shifting—a shift Sparrow watched openmouthed. She’d seen the transformation on multiple occasions at the compound, but she’d never witnessed a shifter capable of shifting on two legs—and remaining on them during the entire process.

  Looming there in his thick brown fur, at a height of easily eight feet, Aden looked like a villainous beast that had wandered out of a dark fairy tale.

  Sparrow fought the urge to shrink back. Her body shook all the way down to her quaking shoes.

  “What are you?” she whispered.

  Aden’s wolf lips grinned. He took a step toward her, then another, and another—striding as though it was the most natural thing in the world for a wolf to walk upright.

  A scream rose up Sparrow’s throat, but it had nowhere to escape because her vocal cords had squeezed shut. No sound came out, and no air came in. Her head lurched, brain shouting for oxygen.

  She threw her hands out in front of her chest as though that would stop the beast from ravishing her, but before reaching her, he swung around and stalked off into the woods.

  Sparrow gasped in sharp breaths of air as soon as he disappeared. She could barely hear through the pounding in her ears. Her heart thumped in her chest—knocking against her ribs—reprimanding her for denying it precious oxygen for so long.

  The fire crackled invitingly, but she wasn’t fooled.

  The shifters in the cages had warmed up to her because they had no choice, and because they were broken. They’d cowed to her kindness like dogs hungry for love and affection. Understanding slammed into her gut like a battering ram. Eric had been starved for love, too. Would he have looked twice at her if she’d met him on even ground, or would he have seen her as a lowly human?

  The forest-dwelling shifters were untamed, ferocious, and wild. Survival was their mistress—their pack provided everything else.

  Sparrow had no place among those born wild.

  She was a runaway with no family and no pack, no tribe, and no options. She didn’t miss the compound or her brother, but she grieved for the captives she’d had no choice but to leave behind. In her own small way, she’d fed them with kindness, and they’d helped ease her lifelong loneliness.

  With a bitter laugh, Sparrow realized that it was she who had been starved for love all along.

  chapter seventeen

  “Your eye!” Kallie dropped her towel beside a head of lettuce when Wolfrik surprised her in the garden.

  A grin lit up his face when she reacted with the concern he’d hoped for.

  She jumped up and hurried to him, as though her leg would stop her if she took too long. When she winced, Wolfrik wasn’t sure if it was at seeing his black eye or having put too much weight on her bad foot. He reached out and drew her against him, his heart clenching at the thought of her falling. She gripped his arm in one hand and cupped the bruised side of his face with the other.

  “Who did this?” she demanded with a snarl.

  Wolfrik’s smile widened. “Raider.”

  “Raider?” Kallie repeated in a voice of disbelief. The sharp lines on her face smoothed over.

  “He told me to stay away from you.”

  “Why would he—oh.” Her mouth gaped open.

  “Oh?” Wolfrik leaned his chest back to study her face.

  Kallie scowled. “That must have been what Palmer was talking to him about before he left the den. I saw the two of them speaking together before the den mates departed. They kept looking at me.”

  Wolfrik frowned. “Palmer kept a close eye on you. Why?”

  Kallie hunched her shoulders and wrinkled her nose.

  “Kallie?” Wolfrik coaxed.

  She groaned and tried to pull out of his arms, but Wolfrik held on. He wouldn’t let her get away that easily.

  “He wanted to hump you, didn’t he?”

  The old horndog. No wonder he’d thrown a fit when he found them together at the cabin.

  Kallie scowled.

  “He wanted more than that. He wanted me as his third mate.”

  Wolfrik released her, his jaw tightening.

  “And? What did you tell him?”

  “No—lots of times,” Kallie said with exasperation. She tucked her hair behind her ears and shook her head. “But he wouldn’t listen.”

  Ever so slowly, Wolfrik folded his arms across his chest.

  “So you made him listen.”

  Her eyes snapped up to his. Understanding dawned on him like a new day lighting up the hidden truths he’d missed in the heat of the moment. Oh, yes, it all made sense now. The minx had lured him to the cabin, knowing Palmer would show up and hear them together. The look of shock and outrage on the elder’s face when he stormed in had been palpable. Wolfrik felt the familiar look coming over his own face.

  “Palmer expected to meet you at the cabin, didn’t he? You made some kind of arrangement with him first. You—used me.”

  Darkness seeped into his vision, cloaking him in bitter realization and blotting Kallie from view.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I arranged for Palmer to meet me at the cabin. I wanted him to find us together so he would back off. But that’s not the only reason I asked you there. I wanted to be with you—with or without Palmer around.”

  Wolfrik didn’t want to hear it. He turned away from her. She reached for him, and he stepped away. Kallie sighed.

  “Before the cabin, I tried, Wolfrik. I wanted Palmer off my back so I could try again.” A smile wavered over her lips. “You’re worth the effort.”

  Wolfrik snorted in amusement before he could stop himself. He loosened his arms and let them drop to his sides.

  Kallie straightened her spine. “I made myself clear to Palmer, and Raider should have never butt in. He had no right. I can’t believe he struck you.” She squinted at Wolfrik. “Was he defending himself?”

  Wolfrik grunted. “The bastard took me by surprise.”

  Kallie gaped at him. “Raider hit you first?”

  He frowned and nodded.

  “And you didn’t see it coming?”

  “Never dreamed he had it in him to start a fight. I guess he’s not as tolerant as he’d like the rest of the pack to believe. We all know I’m capable of aggression, but I truly thought Raider was above all that.” Wolfrik couldn’t help enjoying the look of disgust on Kallie’s face as she wrinkled her nose.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m sorry you had to take a blow to the face on my account.”

  Wolfrik puffed up his chest. “I’ve taken way worse for no good reason. At least I got the satisfaction of telling Raider to mind his own damn business.”

  “You didn’t fight him back?” Kallie shot him a skeptical look.

  “Sasha intervened.”

  “Oh.” Kallie frowned.

  The look of jealously on Kallie’s face almost made up for the way she’d used him against Palmer. No wonder the elder hadn’t voted for him to become a council member. It all made a lot more sense now.

  At least Wolfrik had the satisfaction of knowing that Kallie didn’t willingly bend over for any male, no matter how persistent. Instead, she’d opened herself up fearlessly to Wolfrik, not backing down even after he’d given her half a dozen reasons to steer clear.

  Who knew it could be so satisfying to be pursued by a female?

  He jutted his chin.

  “How about we go for a run together? The garden will still be here when we get back.”

  “Okay?” Kallie formed her response as a question, as though asking if things were still right between them.

  Wolfrik left it hanging in the air. Running always cleared his head. He figured they could both use the break. He was already naked, which put him in the pleasing position of watching Kallie pull her dress up. He took in every inch of bare skin as the fabric brushed
over her thighs, then hips, followed by her breasts, neck, and head.

  Running his tongue over his teeth, Wolfrik gave a growl of approval. If she could use him, he had every right to do the same. “On second thought, why don’t I bend you over that fallen log?” He nodded to a slanted trunk propped up by a living tree outside the garden.

  Kallie’s lips formed a pout he would have liked to kiss. “You promised my wolf a run.” She glanced at the riot of small red tomatoes that reached her shoulders. “I’ve been cooped up and crouched over this garden most of the day.”

  “Very well, Kallie. We’ll run—for now. Just remember I can catch you anytime I want.”

  “How could I forget?” Kallie asked pertly, causing Wolfrik’s groin to tighten.

  Time to shift.

  They walked out of the garden to shift then took off around the den’s surrounding woods, leaping over fallen logs as they flashed through the trees. Wolfrik slowed his pace to stay in sync with Kallie. This wasn’t a race, and his wolf already had plenty of exercise running back from the caves. Having a female running beside him filled an ache in his chest, making his wolf experience a long-lost sense of contentment.

  He brushed up along Kallie’s side, his fur ruffling hers, and yipped. Kallie stopped, and Wolfrik skidded then whipped around. She blinked at him. He yipped again and crouched on his front legs, butt in the air, tail wagging.

  Kallie gave a patient sniff.

  Wolfrik jumped up and ran around her while she watched. As he made his fourth lap, she shot out, knocked him on his side, and pounced as he rolled onto his back. His legs flailed in the air, like a beetle on his back, while Kallie stood over him, giving the wolf equivalent of a triumphant smile. She jumped aside as Wolfrik twisted his body around and righted himself.

  He crouched, tail wagging, and yipped again. Kallie blinked and looked away.

  Wolfrik ran at her playfully, only to be flipped on his back a second time. He let her, of course. Kallie was giving in to his persistence and playing with him. She really seemed to like knocking him over and jumping on top. This time, she nipped his shoulder, but not hard enough to pierce skin, then took off running with Wolfrik in hot pursuit.

  They didn’t have far to run before steep, jagged mountains blocked their path. The wall of rock went on for miles. The den’s location had been chosen for this reason. The terrain was too treacherous to tempt intruders into entering the hollow from any of the eastern directions.

  Kallie lifted her snout, looking at the mountain. She turned and walked toward the forest, but didn’t make it far before Wolfrik jumped into her path and slunk up toward her.

  Kallie issued a warning growl as he approached. Wolfrik stopped and met her eye, his lips curling in a suggestive smile.

  His wolf hadn’t mated in three years and was getting rather insistent he didn’t wait a day, or even a minute, longer.

  He jumped onto Kallie’s back and gripped her with his front paws, tightening his hold once they were joined. His lower body thumped against her, seeking deeper entry. More. More. Mine.

  He lost track of how long he kept at it. He felt like he could stay inside her for days, pulsing at her back.

  She was his female.

  His to mate and protect until the day they joined their spirit pack in the Forest of the Ancestors.

  He knew these things without thinking them. His human side would have fled from such thoughts, but his wolf’s senses were strong and unpolluted by mankind’s useless sentiments.

  They weren’t yet finished when an avalanche of rocks tumbled and scraped down the mountainside.

  Wolfrik and Kallie sprang apart. Wolfrik had barely landed on all four paws before growls erupted from deep in his throat. He aimed his nose at the top of the mountain where two black wolves stood looking down with yellow eyes that seemed to glow from their dark faces. At first glance, he’d thought they were vulhena because of their midnight forms, but it appeared that they were regular wolves.

  The intruders didn’t screech nor snarl, even as Wolfrik’s beastly growls threatened to start a much larger landslide.

  This territory is spoken for, his snarls communicated.

  More importantly, the female was his.

  Wolfrik’s snarl shot up the jagged mountainside.

  Leave before I rip out your throats.

  The two wolves glanced at one another before backing away until they were out of sight.

  Wolfrik continued growling at the ledge, half tempted to bound up the mountain like a mountain goat and chase the black wolves until they were fifty miles from the hollow’s border. But he wasn’t a mountain goat, and it would mean leaving his female alone.

  It wasn’t until Kallie nudged him that he stopped growling and followed her into the forest. He let her take the lead, craning his head to look behind them regularly.

  The den was still deserted when they reached the clearing. Kallie shifted outside her shelter and crawled inside, reemerging moments later in her yellow dress. By that time, Wolfrik had shifted and stood outside, thumping the earth with a shaky foot.

  “I didn’t like the look of those wolves.” He reached out a hand and helped Kallie up.

  “Me neither,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I think they got your message.”

  “Maybe.” He frowned.

  Wolfrik’s eyes searched the quiet clearing. He didn’t see it as a place of tranquility, but one of danger—separated from the glade and its surrounding patrols. Their den mates had left it unguarded and open to attack if any predators managed to sneak in at an opportune moment.

  “I don’t want you in the den alone—ever. I’ll inform the council of my decision.”

  Kallie raised her brows. “Doesn’t the council have to take a vote?”

  “Your safety is not something to vote on.”

  Her lips parted, and she stared at him with a look of surprise and longing.

  Wolfrik coughed, discomfort settling into his shoulders now that they were back in human form. She may have used him, but she was no tease, nor a liar. In her gaze he saw genuine affection, and it eased the darkness in his soul.

  “I’m going to the glade, and you’re coming with me.” He took Kallie’s hand, lacing her fingers in his. Her skin warmed his. Her firm grip quelled the uncertainty in his gut. Despite her injury, Kallie was strong, self-assured, and fearless.

  His wolf wanted her as his mate—to stop dicking around and claim his female.

  The damn animal had a mind of his own.

  Yeah, easier to blame the beast than to admit he was developing strong feelings for the feisty beauty beside him.

  He wanted to go back in time and kill the vulhena who had attacked her. Hell, he wanted to go back further and prevent the attack altogether.

  She wouldn’t have wanted you then, an ugly voice jabbed into his mind. Her options weren’t limited before her injury. And it’s not as though a pack of frenzied females were after you, especially not after your return.

  I’m a fucking pureblood, he snarled back, lips curling in anger.

  You’re a dying breed, and everyone knows it.

  Once they reached the glade, Wolfrik steered Kallie to a stump and inclined his head for her to sit. Maureen stood ten feet away, stacking clean bowls for the coming dinner.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Wolfrik said. “Don’t go anywhere alone.”

  Kallie gave him a peculiar look but nodded her consent.

  It didn’t take long to find Sasha, who kept to the woods surrounding the glade waiting for the return of her mate.

  She frowned when Wolfrik told her about the two black wolves.

  “Hopefully they were just passing through. The last thing we need right now is a territorial war and a fight on both sides of the hollow. You don’t need to worry about Kallie being alone in the den. I’ll see to it that we
have at least one patrol team there at all times. We need to cover all areas. Unfortunately, each team will have a lot more ground to cover since we’re already spread thin.”

  Wolfrik nodded.

  Sasha stared at his bruised eye. “Wolfrik,” she said slowly and paused. “Raider told me about his conversation with you.”

  Wolfrik lifted his chest and folded his arms. “Did he now?”

  She pursed her lips. “You know I don’t like getting involved in personal matters, but as a friend, I would warn you to proceed with caution.”

  “Why? Because Raider treats Kallie like a pack sister who needs his protection?”

  Sasha sighed and pulled at her hair, a nervous gesture unlike her. Wolfrik’s frown deepened.

  “No,” she said, “because Kallie was once in love with Raider, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  His breath caught in his throat like a cloud on a windless day. All his organs and the blood in his veins froze. Then, all at once, his body functions took off at a gallop. “You’re telling me she had a thing for that dickhead?”

  Sasha huffed in frustration. “He’s not a dickhead.”

  “Looks like one. Sounds like one. Acts like one.”

  Sasha rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  Wolfrik unfolded his arms and held them open. “What?”

  “Who sounds like one now?” she asked.

  “He bugs me.”

  “He voted you on council,” Sasha fired back.

  Wolfrik smirked. “I bet he’s regretting that decision.”

  Sasha shrugged. “If he feels a responsibility to look out for Kallie, that’s his business, but I think she’s more than capable of handling herself—with or without her injury. As I said, my concern is for you.”

  “Well, it’s nice to have someone in my corner,” Wolfrik grumbled.

  “Always.”

  The conviction in Sasha’s tone enfolded the area around Wolfrik’s heart like a warm cocoon. He could behave like a total ass, and she’d still have his back. They’d been lovers, but he no longer thought of her that way. She was more than a friend, and as dear as family. He was glad they were together again. He didn’t need Sasha for a mate; it was enough to have her in his life. That she cared about his well-being meant so much.