With Mae nowhere in sight.
She’d used the very trick he’d taught her as the means to make her escape.
First Murtagh and now this. Rogue snarled. Let that be a lesson to you, he chastised himself as he let out a frustrated curse before he barreled down the stairs and out into the dark night after her.
Nothing good ever came from him being nice.
Chapter 7
Mae ran until her feet ached and all four of her legs threatened to give out beneath her. The nighttime summer breeze blew, ruffling the fur of her coat. It caused a chill to prickle her haunches, though she was far from cold. She paused to catch her breath and glanced up at the night sky. The stars twinkled over the vast landscape, their brightness only obscured by the light of the full moon. Even in the shadows of the towering pines, she could see everything clearly, the moonlight and her wolf senses illuminating her path. She inhaled a deep breath of mountain air. The adrenaline that coursed through her veins caused her to pant with excitement. She’d escaped. She’d actually escaped.
And courtesy of a rope made of bedsheets at that.
There was still a slight ache in her skull from the healing head injury, but what little pain remained was nearly gone. In a moment of daring, she threw back her head and howled. The release of tension felt so good that, had she been in human form, she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from laughing with elation. When calm finally settled over her, she glanced up at the moon one last time, sending out a silent prayer.
Thank you.
Jared had saved her yet again.
Mae stepped forward. She needed to put even greater distance between herself and Black Hollow. Then, once she was certain Rogue wouldn’t find her, she could track her location, find the nearest town or city, and make her way home. She could survive as long as she needed in wolf form. But if she followed the scent of exhaust fumes from a nearby highway, it couldn’t be more than a few days. She hadn’t been able to find Tucker before she made her escape, but once she was safe, she’d do whatever it took to convince Maverick or one of the other Grey Wolf warriors to come back and retrieve him. He’d be okay until she was able to get back to him.
Prepared to make her journey, she stepped forward, only to pause as a rustle in the underbrush caught her attention. Funny. When she’d stopped here, she’d been certain she was alone. Her wolf senses hadn’t detected any other shifters or animals. Slowly, she crept toward the bushes, determined to find the source of the noise before whatever it was found her. As she drew closer, she raised her haunches and bared her teeth in case she needed to fight. But when she emerged on the other side of the brush, she saw only three small grizzly cubs. The cubs wrestled with one another near the base of a mighty pine. She most likely hadn’t caught the scent because they’d been in the treetops above her. They couldn’t be more than a few weeks old.
Mae stepped back, prepared to make her retreat, but then her tail brushed against something…furred.
As Mae turned toward the source, she froze.
Behind her stood a towering mother grizzly bear. From the sheer size of her, she likely weighed over a thousand pounds. Slowly, the bear rose onto its hind legs. Its large, dark eyes fixated on where Mae stood in wolf form…near the mother grizzly’s vulnerable cubs.
The grizzly let out a resounding roar.
Mae bolted, running through the forest with the angry grizzly at her heels. Her muscles burned and her limbs ached, but she didn’t dare slow her pace. Her life depended on it. Her true nature might have made her stronger and faster than a human, but she was no match for a thousand-pound grizzly. Mae’s heart pounded as she ran. She darted left and right in an attempt to throw the animal off, but it was no use.
Just when she thought she might be able to outrun the beast, an unexpected tree blocked her path. The shadows had obscured it from view. All it took was that single moment of hesitation, and the bear had her cornered.
Mae skidded and turned, just managing to stay on her feet. The grizzly swiped out, five-inch claws narrowly missing Mae’s face. Mae growled and bared her teeth in an attempt to warn the bear back, but it acted as if she were nothing more than a weak pup. The grizzly roared, its sound instantly drowning out Mae’s growls as it prepared to charge. Mae braced and prepared for what would surely be a fatal hit, but instead, an equally feral snarl answered.
Rogue tore from the brush in wolf form, colliding with the bear. The surprise attack caught the grizzly off guard, and it staggered, giving Mae the spare moment she needed. But the surprise attack would be Rogue’s only advantage. The grizzly turned on him. Fearlessly, he positioned himself in front of Mae, placing himself in the line of fire—to save her, to protect her.
Once again. Mae’s heart raced.
The bear charged.
Rogue met the grizzly head-on, biting and snapping at the large beast as he dodged its blows. Mae watched the lethal dance in horror. With each second that passed, she became more convinced that Rogue had won. Until one of the grizzly’s massive paws collided with Rogue’s side.
A high-pitched yelp tore from his lips as he crumpled to the ground. At the sight of him lying there, unmoving, the bear roared again before it retreated—returning to where they’d started to find the young she so fiercely protected.
Mae shifted into human form before she rushed to Rogue’s side. The ebony wolf lay at the base of a tree he’d collided with, courtesy of the mother grizzly’s paw. Mae knelt beside him, uncertain if he was breathing. Involuntarily, he shifted into human form, likely from succumbing to the pain.
Several gashes from the grizzly’s mighty claws marred his chest. Mae’s breath caught as he moaned in agony. There was blood everywhere…
Mae didn’t think. He’d saved her life. Twice now. He may be a rogue, a manipulative devil who’d misled her on their deal, but he was a man. A man with a life and people who cared about him.
And she wouldn’t leave him here to die.
* * *
There was no doubt in Rogue’s mind that death lingered over him. Pain seared through his chest, the sting of torn flesh and bone intensifying with each breath he drew until he became convinced he’d rather not breathe at all. He could feel the heated rush of blood leaving his body, the intense chill its absence left behind. Every second drew him closer to the inevitable, closer to darkness, until, for a moment, he was certain he saw the face of the angel of death himself.
Hello, old friend.
He greeted death warmly, as they’d been acquainted many times before. More than once, Rogue had drawn so close to death that even in his waking hours, he could recall the sensation. First, the absence of thirst, hunger, need. The loss of his vision and voice came next, followed shortly by the absence of sound and touch until he was floating in an endless ocean of emptiness. The waves rising faster than the tide until suddenly, he was carried out to sea. His body became a black hole, void of all emotion and sensation.
He had no name, no purpose, no identity.
Then every time, just as he became certain the gravitational pull of the tide would swallow him whole, he saw her. The pain in her eyes. Her quivering lip. The single memory that would haunt him for all eternity, and then, in a rush that hit him like the force of a tidal wave, he remembered himself.
His past. His present. His future.
The promise he’d made to her.
Blood ran down Jared’s throat as he struggled to breathe. He crouched near the creek, hidden in the safety of the forest, far past where the other children would look for him. He sank onto a slate rock, surveying his reflection in the creek’s surface. As he touched the broken skin on his cheek, the cut throbbed. It wasn’t deep, but it still hurt.
At least it wouldn’t scar. Not this time.
Tears clouded his eyes. He smashed his fist through his watery reflection. He should have taken his own blade to them, shown them what i
t was like to hurt, to feel cruelty, but he’d been too scared, and they were so much larger than him…
A small voice broke the silence. “Are you okay?”
He shot a glance over his shoulder. Maeve Grey peeked out from among the pine trees. He knew her, of course. Everyone knew everyone on the Grey Wolf ranch. They’d probably played together when they were small, but now he was a whole ten years old and she was only seven, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to her.
“Go away,” he growled.
Mae eased out from the pine needles. “Are you crying?”
Jared swiped his forearm across his eyes. “Alpha wolves don’t cry.”
She watched him for a moment. “You’re no alpha wolf.”
It was the same taunt the other boys threw at him, but when she said it, there was no cruelty, only observation. Somehow, that made it worse.
“Not yet,” he snapped. “But I will be some day.”
And then he’d show them…
“I don’t like alphas. They’re snarly and hot-tempered.” She inched closer, her pink tennis shoes shuffling through the mountain dirt. “I saw what they did to you.”
“I said, go away,” he growled again. He plunged his hand into the cold spring water. He cupped the water in his palm to wash the blood away, but he only managed to smear it further.
“Let me help you.” She reached toward him.
His eyes flashed to his wolf’s. “I don’t want help.” He lunged toward her with a snarl.
She stumbled, falling onto her bottom with an audible thud. Mud splattered over her purple dress, leaving her covered in muck. Her lower lip quivered in a pathetic wobble before she ran off into the woods. He stared after the spot where she’d disappeared. That would teach her not to follow him.
He sat down on the rock again and curled his legs into his chest. A few minutes later, a rustling sounded from a nearby bush. Immediately, he froze. She’d likely gone and told her jerk big brother and his stupid friends, and they’d come for him. That’d be his luck. He jumped to his feet, prepared to run, but when the brush parted, only Mae emerged again, holding a broken plant in her hand.
“I thought I told you to shove off.” He bared his teeth.
This time, she ignored him. She didn’t say anything, just crossed the mountain rock toward him and set the plant down at his feet like an offering. Why wouldn’t she leave him alone?
He picked the plant up and examined it. There was a gooey green substance oozing from the broken branch. “What’s this?”
“Aloe vera.”
He frowned. “I don’t have any burns. They didn’t get that far.”
At least not this time…
“My mom told me it cleans things.” She gestured to his wound. “I want to help.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, dropping back down onto the rock.
If only to get her to leave faster…
Kneeling beside him, she reached into the creek and cupped some water in her hands. “Friends help each other,” she whispered.
He inched away from her. “I don’t have any friends.” He sounded pathetic, but it was true. The other boys found any excuse they could to torture him.
“You do now.” She gently poured the water over his wound. The cool liquid soaked his cheek.
He frowned. “I don’t want your pity.”
“Good. You won’t get it.” She wiped the blood away before she rubbed aloe on his wound.
His grimace faded. “What will I get from you?” He glanced toward her then.
“I told you already.” She extended the aloe plant to him. “Friendship.”
He gripped the other half, each of them holding a side of the plant between them like a wishbone. “I don’t know how to have a friend.” Nor did he think he wanted one. She was a girl, and several years younger, though her smile softened him to the idea.
She grinned in a way that lit her whole face. “Then I’ll teach you.”
And she did. She taught him more than friendship. She taught him he could love—deeply. Sometimes so much it hurt…
Slowly, the memory gave way to another.
Jared tapped on the window, low and rhythmic. “Psst. Mae,” he hissed.
When she didn’t respond, he leveraged his footing on the drainpipe and used one hand to push the second-story window open. At fifteen, he had more strength than when he was only a boy, and he’d snuck through this window more times than he could count. He gripped the wooden sill, pulling himself inside. “Mae, you won’t believe what my father gave me. He—” He turned toward her.
Mae sat on her bed in her pink nightgown, her knees cradled to her chest as though she wanted to disappear. Tears poured down her cheeks.
Jared lowered himself onto the bed next to her. “Mae, what’s wrong?”
He wanted to hold her, protect her, but they hadn’t touched like that since they were kids. Not since he’d started to grow what she called his milk mustache, and definitely not since her mother had bought her first training bra.
“It’s nothing,” she whispered. She swiped the back of her hand over her cheeks before she eased next to him. She leaned her head onto his shoulder. Her hair smelled of juniper and berries. His heart raced. He’d thought more than once about kissing her but had never dared.
“You missed dinner again,” he said, unsure of what to say.
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“You’re far too thin as it is,” he teased. Her already small frame had grown thinner over the past few weeks. It wasn’t like her not to eat. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am now that you’re here.” She leaned further in toward him as she forced a smile. “Tell me your news.”
His excitement felt silly now. Reaching to his belt, he fumbled with the old leather holster and removed the blade, extending the dagger toward her.
She lifted her head from his shoulder. “What’s this?”
“It’s my father’s battle blade. He gave it to me tonight.” A swell of pride grew in his chest. The gift meant he would start his training soon. Someday, he’d assume his father’s role as Grey Wolf second-in-command. If he dared to dream, there was even talk among the pack that another one of the founding families might claim the role of packmaster for a generation or two. That meant he or Colt Cavanaugh could be considered, instead of Mae’s brother, Maverick.
Mae beamed at him. “Oh, Jared. I’m so happy for you.” She threw her arms around his neck. He caught her, holding her against him as she drew him into a bone-crushing hug.
As she drew away, she lingered for a moment, staring up into his face until her gaze fell to his lips. His eyes flickered to his wolf’s involuntarily, and he thought for a second she might kiss him, but then she turned away.
“I want to draw you.” Mae reached into her bedside drawer, removing her sketch pad and graphite pencils. She was an amazing artist, full of natural talent. She’d been doodling on the sides of her paper in school for years until a few winters back when Jared had bought her a sketchbook for Christmas. She placed one of her pencils between her teeth, turning her head to the side as she looked at him. “Hold still.”
He chuckled. “All right.”
They sat there like that for a long time as Mae worked out the details of her sketch. Jared watched her draw as he admired the details of his father’s blade. Seeing her concentration as she studied him was mesmerizing.
“There,” she said finally. “It’s not done yet, but that’s the basic outline.” She passed the sketchbook to him.
He glanced down at the thick, white paper. There he was, sitting on her bed, his father’s blade in hand. With more work, the graphite image would be like a photograph.
Mae scooted over next to him. “I still need to work on the hands a bit,” she said, pointing toward the image. “Those are always the ha
rdest.”
Jared shook his head. “I think it’s perfect.”
Mae smiled. “You always say that.” For a moment, they both stared down at the image, admiring the dark lines. Mae leaned her head on Jared’s shoulder again. “Have you ever thought about running away from here?” she whispered. Her words were so soft he almost didn’t hear them.
He’d thought about it plenty of times before she’d come along. When the boys used to bully him, he would think about shifting into his wolf and running until his paws bled, far past the edges of the Grey Wolf territory and deep into the Montana mountains. Sometimes he’d wanted that so badly he’d ached for it.
“Yeah, I have,” he admitted. “But I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”
“Don’t you want to make your own choices? Live your own life?” Mae asked.
Jared lifted a hand and ran it lazily through the locks of her hair. She kept it short, almost boyish, much to her mother’s disappointment. But he liked it that way. It drew attention to her face, to her large green eyes. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mae-day.”
He’d given her the nickname four years ago. One time when his father had been shouting for them to come to dinner. “Mae-day! Mae-day!” Jared remembered yelling as they’d leapt from a pine tree. They’d been so high up that they’d each broken a limb—his arm and Mae’s ankle. Their parents had been furious.
“Do you even want to be second-in-command?” Mae asked, drawing his attention again. “Or packmaster, if it comes to that?”
The question caught him off guard. He’d been born into the Black family. The Greys, the Blacks, and the Cavanaughs: they were the three founding families of the Grey Wolf Pack, currently under the Greys’ rule. There would never be anything else for him. It was his birthright.
“Of course,” he said.
She sighed, sinking lower so her head was partway on his chest. “I guess I’m the misfit then.”
He shook his head. “If you’re a misfit, then I’m a misfit.” When she didn’t respond, he cupped her chin and forced her to look up at him. “What’s wrong, Mae?”
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