by Kimber White
“I should make you service me right now,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.
“Mmm,” I growled back.
“You’re safe. We’re heading south for a few days today. No sign of any of the Kentucky packs in weeks. We’re going to try and see if we can salvage anything from the Hidden Forest refuge.”
That woke me up. I sat up and fisted my eyes to clear the haze of sleep. “Are you thinking of staying down there?” As soon as I said it, my heart tripped in fear. I never wanted to leave Wild Lake again.
Mal shook his head and eased my heart. “Not anytime soon. One of the other packs might though. It’s time. We fought hard for that land; it would make no sense to abandon it forever.”
I agreed. He leaned down to kiss me again. “Why don’t you get some rest while I’m gone? It’ll do you good. You’re tired a lot lately, aren’t you?”
“Your fault,” I said as a slow blush crept into my cheeks. Mal tweaked my sore nipple and I slapped his hand away.
Then, a high wail cut through the early morning air as the rest of the pack came through the woods, calling to Mal. He stretched and scratched his chest. I reached over and put on a robe. I wanted to go down and say goodbye. It had been over a week since I’d seen the others, and I missed them. Mal may not want them anywhere near my bed, but that didn’t mean I was willing to give up their friendship.
I brushed past him and headed down the stairs. Harold and Pat were already on the porch to see them off. But, the pack never shifted so I had to satisfy myself with a chaste nuzzle from each of them as they waited for their Alpha. Mal bounded down the porch steps, his heavy paws making the wooden boards creak. He chuffed and turned back, his eyes blazing as he looked at me.
I waved a hand. “Be careful,” I said. “Don’t be gone too long.”
Jake pawed the ground and Barrett went up on his hind legs. Then the pack turned together and headed for the woods.
Harold put an arm around my shoulder. “They’ll be fine, sweetie. Things have finally settled down around here.”
I caught Pat’s eye as he said it. Just as quickly, she cast hers downward, as though she was afraid I might see some hidden truth there.
***
With Mal gone, my dreams became more vivid. Tucker came to me, as always. His silver eyes hovered above me and I reached out for him. This time, I felt the rough stubble against his cheek as I traced his jaw. I ran my hand across the curve of his skull. His thick, soft hair felt so different from Mal’s coarseness.
Tucker turned from me this time, looking back at me over his shoulder. My dream self seemed to float through the air as I tried to follow. The tall pines that bordered Wild Lake loomed ahead of us. Tucker shifted, holding his tail high as he ran from me and I tried to give chase. But, I had no legs. No bones. When I tried to call after him, no sound came out.
He was so far away, I knew I’d never catch him. He left me alone at the edge of the shimmering lake; the moon rose high and full. When I called to him again, the sound I made was no longer human. Instead, I shook from head to toe as a mournful howl came out of me.
Colors shifted, growing duller. But, in my dream, I could sense every blade of grass, every fish and frog jutting through the water. I saw Tucker’s eyes weaving among the trees and I went toward them, moving fast on my hands and knees. No, not knees. Not hands. I had powerful legs and paws that tore into the earth, propelling me forward.
I tried to scream. Tried to call to Tucker. Again, no words came, but a soulful wail that sent a chill through me. When I reached the tree line, the world seemed to stop. Tucker was gone.
I woke to chaos. No up. No down. It took me a second to sort out where I was. I had fallen out of the bed and landed face down on the floor. I rose on shaky legs, sweat pouring down the back of my neck, my night shirt clinging to me.
I crawled to my feet and went to the window. The moon from my dreams rose high and bright, illuminating the yard below and the side of the barn.
Just like she had so many other nights, Pat emerged from the barn door, leading Ladybug by the reins. I watched as she hauled herself up into the saddle and slapped the reins against Ladybug’s back once to get her into a full gallop.
I don’t know what made me do it, but this time, I followed.
Chapter Sixty
I threw on a pair of boots and ran down to the barn, careful not to slam the porch door on the way. Ladybug would be easy to track through the light snow that came in the evening before. The horses neighed and stomped in their stalls as I navigated the dark barn using Harold’s rope system.
I chose Tallulah as the least likely to protest a midnight ride. My heart thumped inside me. It wasn’t fear. Not exactly. I just knew that whatever happened, I had to get to Pat as fast as I could. I led Tallulah out of her stall, smoothing my hand over her chestnut mane. Closing the barn door behind us, I grabbed a wooden stool and heaved myself onto her, bareback. There was no time to waste.
A full moon lit the way into the woods as we picked up Ladybug’s trail. It turns out, we wouldn’t have needed it. Tallulah knew exactly where to go. I let her take the lead, hugging her low around the neck so my hair wouldn’t snag on the brittle birch branches lining the path. As we got north of the lake, Tallulah got more agitated. She whinnied and sidestepped. I kicked my heels into her sides to show her who was boss.
Tallulah took two steps back then snorted, telling me she’d go, but she wasn’t happy about it. I got my lips low to her ear. “Don’t you dare stop.”
Tallulah kept going. We rode maybe three miles from the barn through the thickest part of the woods before I saw it. Tucked deep into the hillside, with sod covering the roof, was a small cabin. Not really much more than a lean-to actually. Ladybug was tied to a post a few yards to the east. She whinnied a welcome and Tallulah stomped again. I slid off her back and patted her flanks.
“I’m trusting you,” I said, running a hand down her nose. Tallulah probably wouldn’t stray far from Ladybug and if she did, she’d head back to the barn.
I approached the slatted door and raised my hand to knock. I hesitated, feeling a little sheepish all of a sudden like I’d broken some confidence or betrayed Pat in some way. I thought about turning back or just watching from some hidden spot. I took a step back and looked over my shoulder at Tallulah. She raised his great head up and down as if to say, “You brought me out here. Better not be for nothing.”
Running a hand through my hair, I raised my hand and pressed my ear to the door. It wasn’t locked. It wasn’t even closed all the way. Just the slightest pressure from me and it swung inward. My fingers trembled and my heart thundered behind my ribcage as I stepped inside.
The room was dark and sparse. Pat sat in the center on a wooden folding chair at a small, round table with her hands in her lap. She swallowed hard and put her head down when I met her eyes.
“What’s going on?” I said, venturing all the way in. She had her feet next to a small propane heater on the floor. There were no other furnishings in the room except for a pallet against the far wall. It was covered with a sheepskin blanket and scattered with sticks and leaves. It didn’t look like something fit for a human, much less a woman Pat’s age. And there was something else. The air in the room was thick with the scent of musk. As I inhaled, heat flared low in my gut and spread through me, making spots swim in front of my eyes.
I knew that scent. As I breathed again, my knees nearly gave out.
“Neve,” Pat said, her voice sounding so small and distant. She slowly rose and came to me. She took my shaking hands in hers and met my eyes. Hers shone with tears.
I shook my head and tried to back away. Pat held me firm. “There’s no one here,” I said, though I don’t think I was really speaking to her.
“Neve,” she said again. She turned her head and looked out the door. Her chest rose and fell as she let out a great sigh. Tallulah and Ladybug whinnied. Tallulah reared up on her hind legs and hit the ground hard, kicking up dirt and snow.
I shut my eyes tight and turned.
He came through the trees, his eyes flashing silver as he slowly blinked. He took slow, careful steps, his ears pricked, his silver tail held high. His growl vibrated across the ground between us, sending a shudder up my spine.
Pat kept a vice-like grip on my hands, as if she knew I might run. I didn’t though. I couldn’t form words. My eyes had to be playing tricks on me. They could have. But his scent, the way his eyes glinted with recognition. It wasn’t a dream. He was here.
“Tucker,” I finally said it. “Oh my God.”
Maybe he thought he was the one dreaming. But, when my words reached his ears, he dodged to the side. Then he bared his teeth, revealing his great fangs. He snapped his jaw once, twice and growled with menace.
“Tucker,” I took a step forward. Didn’t he know who I was?
“Neve, don’t,” Pat tried to hold me back but no power on this earth could have done that.
No power except Tucker himself. Because when I took one more step, Tucker lunged forward. He stood before me, his back arched, tail high, growling with menace. A clear threat to stay back.
“Tucker.” I whispered it again, but Tucker turned so quickly I flinched and fell back. Then he disappeared into the trees.
Chapter Sixty-One
I sank to my knees and trembled as Pat’s arms came around me.
“Come back inside,” she said. “Let me explain.”
I rose and turned on her. She brought up her hands, trying to touch my face. I slapped her hand away, blinking to focus through hot tears.
“You should have told me! How could you keep this from me?”
Pat took a breath and put her hands on her hips. Her expression went from tender concern to anger in the space of a second. But she had no right to be angry. None.
“Come sit inside,” she said. “The cold might not bother you anymore, but it’s hell on my arthritis. You think you know what’s going on. You don’t. Not even I do. Now get in here so you can help me figure out what the hell to do.”
I couldn’t even seem to figure out how to put one foot in front of the other. Tucker. My God. Alive? My heart seemed to splinter into a thousand pieces. How?
“Sit down and I’ll tell you what I know,” Pat said. She didn’t need to read my thoughts; the expression on my face seemed to speak volumes.
The next time she reached for me, I let her lead me back into the shack and close the door. She sat next to the space heater and kicked another chair out for me. But, I wanted to pace.
“How long have you known? Where has he been? I need to go find him.”
“You need to listen,” Pat said. “I found him down in the ravine a few hours after Asher came and took you away. I thought he was dead and wanted to figure out a way to bring him up for a proper burial.”
I slammed my hand against the wall, sending stinging pain through my wrist straight up to my elbow. A ball of heat formed in my core, as if the tiny life growing there had just woken up to listen.
“It’s not possible. Mal and the rest of the pack would have known he wasn’t dead. I would have known he wasn’t dead. He marked me, Pat.”
Pat exhaled and set her mouth into a hard line. “He was as close to death as any creature I’ve ever seen. I don’t think Tucker was capable of transmitting any kind of signals to the pack. And then Mal became Alpha. The second that happened, Tucker was cut off. From them, from you, from everything. He was just a lone wolf in a lot of pain and that’s how he’s been ever since. He lost so much blood, he didn’t wake up for days. I don’t even know how he lived at all. I had Harold bring the truck down and we managed to get him up here where I knew no one would find him. You need to understand, he was so far gone, we even dug a grave for him. You can see it just a few yards over there by the tree line.”
I stopped pacing and looked, sure enough, I saw a small mound of dirt covered earth about twenty yards to the west. Bile rose in my throat and I bent low, holding my knees. Tucker’s grave. I’d asked her to take me to it. Even though I knew he was still alive, the sight of that wretched mound tore my guts out.
“He’s alive, Neve,” Pat said. “But he’s not okay. Something’s wrong. Very wrong.”
I straightened and looked at her. Lines cut through Pat’s forehead and her eyes were red rimmed. Why hadn’t I noticed before? Pat looked haggard like she’d aged twenty years. This time, I took the chair when she pushed it toward me with her foot.
“He hasn’t shifted back,” she said. “Not since we brought him up here. He got better, slowly. Harold and I nursed him for weeks, bringing him food and water. We kept him hidden because I didn’t know what Mal would do. He’s Alpha, even as sick as he was. Tucker was a threat to him.”
“But he’s okay,” I said. “He looked strong. Healthy.”
She nodded. “And thank God for it. After a few weeks, he was able to get up and hunt on his own. In the beginning, he’d take shelter inside, sleeping on that pallet we made for him. But, until today, I hadn’t seen him in weeks. I kept coming back to look for him. I was starting to think he’d gone off to die.”
I buried my face in my hands. Tucker. My love. My heart. Alone and injured. Cut off from the pack he loved. And me. All these weeks. He was here and I hadn’t known. I could have come to him. Comforted him. I raised my eyes and looked at Pat. Hers filled with understanding and the grim truth I hadn’t wanted to voice.
“I don’t know if he’s still in there,” she said. “The man, I mean. Do you understand what I’m telling you? He hasn’t shifted since the day Asher took you. That’s almost five months. Five months! No shifter I’ve ever known has let their wolf out for that long.”
“I have to find him,” I said, my heart lurching.
“He’s feral, Neve,” Pat shouted. “Listen to what I’m telling you. You’re not safe with him. If Mal senses you with him, all he’ll understand is that you’re in danger. He’ll try to kill him. The pack will kill him. They won’t have a choice.”
“I don’t care!” I lost control. Rage. Grief. Despair. Hope. Everything inside me bubbled to the surface. Fire heated my blood. I rose and threw the chair across the room. “He’s Tucker. I could have helped him. I can help him now. You should have told me! How could you?”
Pat rose slowly to her feet. She squared her shoulders and set her jaw. Somehow, at less than five feet, she still managed to look imposing. “We thought you were dead. Tucker thought you were dead. He may not have been able to communicate with words, but I know him just as well as you think you do. I think grief is what’s kept his wolf out more than anything else. He didn’t want to live. It’s my force of will that kept him alive. By the time I found out you were still alive, it was too late and there’s no way Tucker could have sensed you either. You were already mated. You’re pregnant! I wasn’t going to take the chance that seeing you would set him back.”
The air between us seemed charged; it was as if I took another step, said another word, it would ignite.
“It’s not your fault. You did what you had to do to survive. So has Tucker. We all have. But Neve, there’s no way this can end between Tucker and Mal without one of them killing the other. I’m not going to let that happen. Mal will do anything to keep you and that child and now he’s got the packs behind him. It’s pack law. Do you hear me? I already lost Luke. He’s alive, but he’s as good as lost to me. I won’t lose Tucker. Not even for you.”
My head swam. My heart broke. I wanted to scream, rail, break something. I wanted to tell her she was wrong. There had to be a way out. A way to reach Tucker. But, as Pat looked at me with her eyes blazing, a wicked wind whipped through the woods, making the tiny shack sway. A haunting howl rose, cutting through the night air.
Tucker.
I turned and looked out the window. I saw him in profile standing high on the ridge overlooking the lake. He raised his head high, his ears flat against his head. He howled again, sending ice down my spine.
I put my hand on the door a
nd opened it, letting in a blast of cold air.
“Neve, you can’t,” Pat said behind me.
I turned back to her.
“You can’t keep him safe. And it’s you that might get hurt.”
I swallowed hard and shut my eyes. I straightened my back as I opened them. “You’ve done things your way for months. Now it’s time for my way.”
I closed the door behind me and walked to the tree line where Tallulah waited near a tree stump. I stood on it and heaved myself to her back. I didn’t have to say anything. The horse knew where to go. Kicking my heels against her flanks, she turned toward the ridge where Tucker waited.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Wind whipped my hair around my face as I pulled Tallulah to a stop. I slid off her back and started up the hill. I couldn’t see Tucker anymore but I knew he was there. I couldn’t sense his presence or his heartbeat like I used to. Asher’s mark, then Mal’s had driven that away. But still, my own senses stayed heightened as my body coursed with hormones and part of Mal’s DNA. So much so, fear prickled along my spine. The tiny fetus within me sensed danger, threat, and fluttered. I put a hand over my abdomen.
“Be still,” I whispered.
I reached the top of the hill where I last saw Tucker. Only a lone pine rose to greet me. So, I waited. I pulled my flying hair back into a knot and called out.
“Tucker, come back! I know you’re out there. I know you can hear me.”
The wind answered. The needles bristled, making it look like the tree meant to wave me off.
Then, from the west, I sensed a shift in the air and saw Tucker’s silver eyes glinting through the shadow of the trees. A pink band crept across the horizon as dawn approached.
Tucker stepped out of the woods, his back tall and strong, his tail raised high. I turned toward him, my heart beating at a frantic pace so I almost couldn’t breathe. Every moment we spent together came flooding back to me. The way he smelled, the way he held me. A tingling rose between my shoulder blades at a remembered kiss he gave me the last time he made love to me. I ached for him. Longed to hear his voice as he whispered my name.