Winter of the Wolf

by Cherise Sinclair

  Gerhard walked over, a large man with a dark red complexion and a thick gut. “Trawsfur.” She felt an internal push, a need to obey, reminiscent of when she was five and a foster parent gave her an order.

  Although she realized she could resist Gerhard’s command, everyone else was in human form. Maybe she was being rude. With a feeling of resentment, she trawsfurred, then stood and stepped back behind the other women. Gerhard wasn’t as intimidating as Shay and Zeb, but he was stil a big man. And realy naked.

  He returned to the center of the clearing. “Wolves,” he said, his coarse voice disturbing the beauty of the night. “We have a new female—unattached. Breanne, step forward.” He held his hand out as if he expected her to walk forward and take it.

  Dream on, buddy. She raised her hand. “Hey, everyone.” Gerhard’s brows drew together.

  Gerhard’s brows drew together.

  “Move.” A big woman shoved, and Bree staggered forward, trying to find her footing. Jeez. Several feet into the center of the clearing, she recovered and clasped her hands in front of herself. Her sense of belonging had disappeared, leaving her empty.

  The alpha glanced at her, not as if she were a female, but a duty. “You’re staying alone in a cabin at the lodge.

  Tomorrow, you move into the pack house until you find a mate.”

  She stared at him. She’d heard he and his two brothers lived in the pack house with a varying population of other wolves. Polite. Be polite, Bree. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m perfectly happy where I’m at.”

  “Wolves don’t live alone, especialy females.” His face turned darker red, and he crossed his arms over his bul-like chest. “This isn’t a choice.”

  She could see the pot starting to boil over, knew she couldn’t stop it. No way could she live with a bunch of strange men, especialy big ones like him and his brothers.

  “I’m sor—”

  Again, she felt the compulsion to obey—the creeptoid was doing some weird mental thing. Her desire to be polite disappeared. She glared at him. “No.”

  In her restaurant, the head chef always walked away from an argument. Now she understood why. They can’t argue if an argument. Now she understood why. They can’t argue if you’re not here. Ignoring disbelieving murmurs, she pushed through the crowd and headed for the trail. When she escaped into the trees, she took a breath of relief. Way to play nice with the wolfies, Bree.

  Too shaken to shift, she slowed to consider her options.

  Navigating the steep path in the dark with rubbery legs would be suicide. Even worse, she wasn’t real clear on where home was. If I go straight downhill, eventually, I’ll find Cold Creek. I hope.

  Footsteps sounded above her, and one of Gerhard’s brothers—Klaus—ran down the trail. In the shadowy light, he seemed to smile. “Good, I won’t have to exert myself after al.” He glanced behind him, up the slope. The pack wasn’t in sight. “So, Breanne, is it? There’s something you need to realize…” He pointed down the trail.

  She turned to look—and his fist slammed into her face.

  The skin over her cheekbone split. Pain seared through her like fire. Arms windmiling, she staggered back…and off the trail, down the steep, rocky slope.

  Falling. Rocks gashed her back and sides, hit her head.

  Her skin scraped, tore, as she grabbed for something, anything. Nothing slowed her fal. Please.

  She smashed into a massive tree, and the impact knocked the air from her lungs. Head spinning, she gasped for air. The sound of someone coming after her made her try to rise.

  “Oh, did the mouthy bitch fal down?” Klaus yanked her to her feet. With one hand fisted in her hair, the other around her arm, he forced her up the slope. Struggling for breath, head whirling, she couldn’t fight.

  “We’re going back to the meeting. You’re going to do exactly what Gerhard says.” He yanked her hair, and his ugly laugh turned her stomach. “If you don’t, your next fal wil be off a cliff. New shifter. Clumsy. No one wil think twice.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, I would. I have.”

  The gloating tone in his voice convinced her. Don’t answer. She’d tel Zeb and Shay. They’d—

  “It’s your word against mine, bitch. If your cahir friends show their fangs, my brother wil kick them out of the territory.” Hearing his slimy laugh was more nauseating than eating rat, and she swalowed bile.

  With a painful grip on her arm, he dragged her up the trail, through the crowd, and into the center of the meeting.

  Gerhard—she thought, although her vision kept doubling up—stopped in mid-sentence. “Klaus, what happened?”

  “Your new wolf fel off the trail. Good thing I found her.”

  “Fel?” Gerhard’s voice turned expressionless. “I glad you saved her, Klaus.” He looked at her. “Did you change your mind?”

  Trickles of blood ran down her forehead, her calf, her shoulder. Pain from the fal was beginning to blossom…

  shoulder. Pain from the fal was beginning to blossom…

  everywhere. Her ribs stabbed with every painful gasp for air.

  Even so, she tried to pul away, and Klaus’s grip tightened.

  Self-preservation said she should agree to his demands.

  She couldn’t. “No.” Her voice shook worse than her legs, and she forced it to steady. “There won’t be a problem. I’l leave your stupid territory.”

  The fingers around her arm dug in painfuly.

  “A new shifter can’t leave until the Cosantir permits,” Gerhard said. “That’l be a few months at least.”

  “I don’t give a hoot.”

  “The fal must have confused her, Gerhard. I’l take her back to the tavern for you.” Klaus’s ugly voice and hostile scent scraped over her nerves. He tried to pul her back through the crowd.

  He’ll kill me this time.As fear-induced adrenaline cleared Bree’s head, she could almost see Sensei’s frown. He’d never quit; he had never let her quit. Within the heart of one breath, she found her center.

  “Poor girl, she—”

  Whirling, she kicked Klaus’s shin. He yeled and his grip loosened. She ripped free. Standing close enough her blurred vision wasn’t a problem, she punched him in the face.

  Cartilage crunched under her knuckles—his nose.

  As he staggered back, she snap-kicked his knee, making him roar.

  him roar.

  The sight of wavery figures converging on their fight distracted her, and Klaus fisted her in the ribs, knocking her to her knees. Pain washed over her in fiery waves. Struggling to regain her breath, she felt caught in a nightmare, surrounded by enemies with no one to save her.

  * * *

  When Shay reached the rear of the pack, he realized his partner had paused under a tree to snatch up a wayward mouse. From the few facts Zeb had shared, he’d stayed as a wolf for years after losing his family. Not only had he managed to live alone without going feral, but—Shay grinned

  —he’d learned to never pass up a snack.

  Shay’s smile faded. He and Zeb had found the demonkin’s tracks. They needed to talk with Calum and Alec. The scent wasn’t familiar, which meant the territory stil had a helhound in it.

  With a glance around, he saw everyone was in human form, so he shifted. Shouting sounded from the front along with the smack of flesh on flesh. Probably the young males playing dominance games. He smeled healthy sweat. Anger.

  Then, even as a woman yeled, “No! Leave her alone,” Shay caught Breanne’s fear-laden scent. Something inside him twisted and burst with anger. He couldn’t see her. His him twisted and burst with anger. He couldn’t see her. His snarl ripped out.

  In the center of the circle, Gerhard turned. Their eyes met.

  Shay started shoving through the crowd.

  The alpha yeled a command, and males deliberately blocked Shay’s path. By the God, they’d regret that. He grabbed the first by one arm and threw him at the next in his path. Stepping around them, he flattened
a skinny male who got in his way.

  Zeb’s roar came from the rear and someone screeched. A male yeled, then shouted in pain. As Zeb appeared, the remaining obstacles melted out of their way.

  When he reached the center, Shay saw Breanne on her hands and knees. Four males surrounded her, like wolves on a downed deer. Gerhard stood nearby.

  Shay dove forward, trawsfurring in midair, landing as a wolf. Ears back, hackles raised, he placed himself in front of Breanne, taking up a guard position.

  One of Gerhard’s brothers retreated, as did the two other males. Klaus remained, his features distorted with rage.

  Blood smeared his face and dripped off his chin.

  Zeb stepped between him and Shay. “Try me, scat-head.” Klaus scowled, but backed up a step in token retreat. Zeb watched, his scent acrid with anger.

  When no one moved for seconds, Shay shifted and knelt beside Breanne. She was bleeding from scores of gashes and beside Breanne. She was bleeding from scores of gashes and scratches, and red blotches of broken blood vessels showed on her fair skin. Eyes glazed, she didn’t see him as she tried to stand. But she was alive, thank the God.

  His fury edged down a whisker, far enough to restrain it.

  Anger stil ruled his brother. “Zeb.” He nodded toward Breanne. Guard her while I talk.

  Zeb understood. He inhaled slowly, visibly fighting for control, and moved to stand behind her. She pushed up onto her knees but his hand on her shoulder kept her from rising.

  When she swung at him, Zeb leaned over, speaking in her ear. A sigh shuddered through her, and her hand closed over his, gripping tightly.

  Shay rose and faced the alpha, striving to keep his voice even. Non-threatening. “What is going on?” Gerhard’s usualy ruddy face was almost purple. “She attacked Klaus. He tried to help her, and she hit him. She’s feral.”

  Idiot. “She’s no more feral than you are.” Shay glanced at Klaus, saw the tension in the shifter’s muscles. “I can see which of them looks more damaged. What did you do to her?”

  “Nothing. She lost her temper. Stomped away and fel off the trail,” Gerhard said. “Klaus found her and brought her back. And she punched him, broke his nose.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Breanne,” Shay said. You mangy curs are lying. “What made her angry?”

  “I ordered her to move into the pack house. She refused.” The alpha’s expression was stubborn. “A female cannot live alone. It’s pack law.”

  “Your pack law is a farce.”

  The wolves’ shocked gasps told Shay that he’d gone too far. He didn’t give a damn. He and Zeb had been kicked out of their last territory; what was one more? Zeb’s low growl agreed.

  Gerhard snarled. “You and your br—”

  “Breanne was raised human. Before last week, she didn’t even know the Daonain existed. You expect her to know pack law?” As Shay turned in a circle, gazes were averted in shame. The two men who weren’t Gerhard’s brothers slid into the crowd.

  “She’s just a little wolf,” Shay said softly. “And she’s afraid of males. Your actions tonight have increased that fear.”

  A muttering ran through the pack like a wind whispering in the pines.

  Blood surged into Gerhard’s face. “She can’t live alone.

  She—”

  “She knows me and Zeb and has lived next door to us for a month. She can move into the lodge until she finds someone she likes better.”

  Breanne didn’t speak.

  Breanne didn’t speak.

  Shay glanced back to check her response, but the sight infuriated him again. “By the Mother’s grace, look at her.” Cuts, bruises, gashes. “She’s barely recovered from saving the Cosantir’s daughter.”

  Gerhard stiffened, reminded that he’d better tread carefuly.

  Shay glanced at Zeb—his brother was close to losing control and tearing a few males to bits. Time to step back. “If you care about this little member of your pack, alpha, let her stay where she can thrive.” He managed to put hint of plea into his words, although the concession tasted foul.

  Gerhard crossed his arms. “Is she going to refuse to live with you? If so…” The gleam in his eyes showed he hoped she’d give him cause to force her compliance.

  Heedless of Gerhard and his brothers, Shay knelt beside Breanne. Zeb straightened, taking guard.

  Breanne’s eyes had cleared. She met his gaze.

  “Did you hear Gerhard?” Shay asked.

  She didn’t speak, although tears of pain ran down her cheeks. What kind of female learned to take that much pain silently?

  He struggled not to pul her into his arms. “Wil you stay with me and Zeb for now?”

  Her mouth tightened. She was going to refuse.

  He touched her cheek, felt her flinch, and leaned closer to He touched her cheek, felt her flinch, and leaned closer to whisper, “He’s an asshole, but he’s right that wolves don’t live alone. It’s bad for us, a leannan. That’s why Calum makes Zeb and me share a house.”

  Trembles shook her body as she thought. “Okay.” She took a slow breath and her voice steadied. “For now. Until I can leave this horrible place.”

  Her voice was loud enough that everyone heard. More frowns appeared. Once a new shifter achieved adequate control, she could go where she wanted. Pack rarely left their territory, but this little female knew there was a whole world out there.

  Shay stroked her hair before standing. He held Gerhard’s gaze until the alpha agreed, “She can live with you. For now.”

  “C’mon, little female. It’s to the healer for you.” Despite the anger coming off him in waves, Zeb lifted her into his arms very, very gently. “Bad week. First you get ripped up fighting a helhound.” He shot a deadly glare at Gerhard.

  “Then the alpha tries to finish the job.” The pack was totaly silent.

  * * *

  Once away from the other males—and with Bree safely in his arms—Zeb regained control of his temper. Farther down the trail in a level spot, he set Bree on her feet. “If we carry the trail in a level spot, he set Bree on her feet. “If we carry you, it’l take a long time to get back.”

  “I can walk.” The stubborn little female took two shaky steps before her knees buckled.

  “By Herne, that wasn’t what I meant.” When he caught her, his hands slipped on her blood. His temper surged, and he took a step upslope. “I’l kil them.”

  “No, a bhràthair.” Shay’s voice was mild, though his fury scented the wind. “Don’t chalenge him. You’d make a lousy alpha.”

  “Better than that cur.” Then Zeb sighed in agreement He’d go crazy if al those people looked to him to lead them.

  “Fine.”

  Shay touched Bree’s cheek. “Trawsfur to wolf. Four legs work better than two, your fur wil keep you warm, and we’l get off the mountain more quickly. Can you do that?” She considered. Her chin lifted with determination, before she blurred into her wolf. Blood streaked her light fur and her tail drooped, but she folowed Shay without a whine.

  Zeb’s chest ached as he remembered how the smal wolf had danced in happiness an hour earlier.

  Her stubborn determination took her almost al the way down the mountain. When her strength gave out, he and Shay took turns carrying her. Something inside him was soothed to have her in his arms safe where he could protect her.

  Finaly, they reached the cave under the Wild Hunt. After Finaly, they reached the cave under the Wild Hunt. After dressing and wrapping Bree in a blanket, Shay drove them to the healer’s house on Cumberland Street—swearing in Gaelic the entire way.

  Donal O’Connor opened the door, dressed only in a pair of sweat pants. “Don’t you know it’s late?” He frowned at the sight of Bree. “Thought I’d healed her. Now what?” Bree opened her eyes, saw the healer, and her curvy body stiffened. “No,” she said in a thin voice, al the melody gone.

  “I don’t want him to touch me.”

  Donal snorted. “Females.” He stepped back so they
could enter. “Now you know why I’m not lifemated.” In his youth, Zeb would have agreed. “Where do you want her?”

  “I get a feeling the medical room would be a mistake.” Donal puled on a gray sweatshirt as he led the way into the living room.

  The room had an arched ceiling and was the size of one of their cabins. With the chairs and couch in evergreen colors and a deep brown carpet over a hardwood floor, the room held the comfort of a summer forest. “Nice.”

  “Thank you.” Donal pointed to the couch. “Put her there.” Zeb set her down gently.

  “No. I don’t want this.” Bree struggled to stand.

  “Stubborn female.” Yet he welcomed the excuse to keep her in his arms. He scooped her back up and took her place on the cushions, holding her in his lap.

  The way she relaxed against him pleased the hel out of him.

  Donal shook his head. “Never seen anyone less wiling to be healed. What did I do?”

  “You were born with a dick,” Shay answered. He took a place behind the couch, leaning over Zeb’s shoulder. “Have at it, Healer.”

  When Donal puled back the blanket to expose Bree’s arms and shoulders, he hissed at the bruises and gashes and cuts. “You boys play rough. If this is how you get your rocks off, don’t come back here again.”

  The fucking dunghead thought he and Shay had… With a snarl, Zeb started to stand, but Shay held him back.

  “Wasn’t us, Donal,” Shay said. “She disagreed with the alpha. Apparently she ran from the pack and fel off a trail.” Donal grunted his disgust. “Makes me glad I’m a werecat

  —we answer to only the Cosantir.” He met Zeb’s eyes.

  “Sorry. I jumped too fast. Wouldn’t have happened, except last year, a human male moved here, and he liked to beat his mate into jely.”

  “I’d have kiled him.” Zeb’s arms tightened around the little female until she squirmed. He loosened his hold.

  “My first inclination as wel, but not alowed for healers.” Donal opened an elaborately carved armoire filed with medical supplies.

  medical supplies.

  “Doesn’t sound like it’s stil going on.” Shay reached over Zeb’s shoulder to stroke Bree’s hair. “What happened?”