by T. F. Walsh
I scanned the surroundings, expecting Daan to burst out from the woods any second. The sky was charcoal black from the building storm clouds, and the harbinger of gloom seemed to watch me.
Double damn. I’d been wrong to ignore my wolf’s warning earlier today. Her constant stirring and unease had been a premonition.
“Miss, are you all right?” He stepped closer with a hand outstretched toward me. A red bruise formed on his forehead.
“Don’t.” I reeled backward, gripping the shopping bags. “Who are you?”
He ran a hand through his dark blond hair and studied me in a nonchalant way as if the situation were somehow funny.
“What are you doing here?” The words scraped my throat raw. Like he would tell me now. No, he’d wait until he had Tianna; then Daan would call, gloating. I couldn’t let my guard down.
“Visiting. What’s your name? Do I know you?”
I trembled.
The stranger stood there; his brown snow coat did zilch to conceal his muscles. I had no chance against this wulfkin. At least the last guy Daan sent hadn’t been built like a train. Run. Get Tianna and escape.
I recoiled near the verandah, shadows writhing amid the trees across from the building. Returning inside the store would draw Henri into my troubles. The problem wasn’t my safety, but Tianna’s.
“Stay away from me. Understand?” I hurried onto the road, snow crunching beneath my quickened footsteps. How could this have happened again? I’d been so careful, told no one where we’d settled. How had he tracked us? What if Daan had sent more than one wulfkin this time? My gut clenched so hard, I suppressed a whimper. What if the other guy was already after my daughter? Hunting her?
Behind me, the stranger hadn’t moved. He tilted his head, eyes narrowed, as he watched me.
No one was taking Tianna. My chest squeezed tight with anxiety.
Bags tucked under my arms and resolve strong enough to withstand a hurricane, I sped as fast as possible without attracting attention. My boots sloshing through the snow. I had to put distance between the center of town and myself.
Tall, hulking birch trees flanked the narrow road as if they were guardians. I grasped for the flashlight from my handbag with a shaky hand. The beam penetrated the blackness, guiding me along the narrow path in the woods. I’d walked this passage for the past eight months and knew it better than the streets of Denmark. Though, tonight the journey felt treacherous, every shadow a promise of someone leaping out to attack me.
Strong winds whistled through the woods, and snow plummeted, claiming everything in its grasp. The sky rumbled and night tightened around me.
Uncontrollable shivering made it difficult to glance over my shoulder without appearing conspicuous, all the while expecting to see the strange wulfkin. Branches and trees swayed, some limbs almost touching the ground as the storm roared overhead.
My breaths hitched. For the moment, Tianna would be fine where she was. Anja wouldn’t let anyone take her. But we couldn’t stay here. Not now.
Go home, pack, and collect Tianna. We leave tonight.
Chapter Two
VINCENT
Who the hell was that minx?
The wulfkin who’d slammed a door into my face vanished behind a wall of trees, and I rubbed the lump on my forehead. The doe-eyed female smelled like blood and delicious candy. Sure, not the homecoming welcome I’d expected, but a night with that fierce vixen would suit me just fine. The deluge of snow intensified, and the smart members of the pack in Susi were in their homes deep in the woods, safe and warm.
With my bag in hand, I pulled open the door to the general store and stepped inside. A blanket of bittersweet spices and beef jerky greeted me. The aroma brought back memories from my childhood of lingering at the counter where I’d buy bags of the dried meat. Now everything seemed different and smaller and coated in Christmas decorations. A sense of absence filled me, sitting heavily in my chest. Since leaving Susi six years ago, I had dreamt about the containers with the dried meat near the counter, but they were no longer there. Me squeezing into the back where the salty licorice was stashed, yet that back corner now displayed a rack of clothes. Even the magazine stand where I got my first peek at a woman’s breasts was gone, replaced by buckets of mistletoe. While minuscule, the rest of the pack had probably embraced the changes and moved on, while it was clear I was no longer in the natural flow of their lives because I remained in the past. A time when there were fewer Christmas decorations, fewer human customs, and bear pelts for warmth instead of beanies and scarves.
Behind the counter, Henri’s head jerked upward. “Cace—” His voice splintered as he stared at me with squinted eyes. “Vin? Vincent Lyall?” His grin widened. “You old dog. When’d you arrive?”
I broke into a chuckle. No one had called me Vin since the day I left home, and the longing ache of being back echoed through my head.
Henri skirted the counter and stepped closer. He grabbed me into a hug, the kind he’d given me as a kid, minus the strength that left me feeling as if I’d been strangled by an anaconda. Silver streaked his short hair, but as always at this time of the year, he wore his Santa outfit. He used to visit every house in the pack to deliver bags of candy to kids, even during a storm. I dropped my bag on the floor and embraced him. It was strange being here after so long, yet at the same time, it felt like sanctuary, a cave away from the world, my place to rest.
“Just got here.”
He pulled away, running fingers across an unruly eyebrow. “Like always, you bring chaos with you.” He winked, glancing at the door still shuddering on its hinges. “How are the Varlac treating you?” He studied me, his gaze sweeping down my body. “No bruises or broken bones. They can’t be that bad if you’re still alive. And look at your size. What are they feeding you?”
“You know, they’re just normal wulfkin, right?” As the ruling clan over all wulfkin packs in Europe, everyone feared the Varlac. The old reigning alpha ruled with his fists. But those days were changing, and I’d witnessed them firsthand from my second-in-command position to the new Varlac leader.
“Sure they are.” Henri’s words dripped with sarcasm. “So, what brings you back home? You haven’t returned since you got recruited by the Varlac leader to join his pack as a fighter.”
The past six years had flown too fast. One minute I was training to be in the Varlac guards; next thing I was leading them. Not that I minded because fighting was second nature to me and I loved the hunt. Joining the Varlac ranks opened up a world of opportunities. But nothing compared to returning home and seeing my parents again. Something I’d promised myself to do every year, but it never seemed the right moment. After I received my father’s letter about Mom’s injury, I’d made the call and took time off to check up on my parents. Plus, it offered me a vacation to relax and not be on call to the Varlac leader at a moment’s notice. Still, my Varlac leader insisted that while I was in Susi, I had to speak to the alpha on his behalf.
“Is your fearless leader, Manu, upstairs?” My gaze drifted toward the dark hallway. I refused to elaborate on how Manu had contacted my alpha back in Hungary with a secret proposal he would only talk about in a face-to-face meeting. Alpha to alpha.
“Manu went home early. Hasn’t been himself. Distracted, rarely around these days. Is that why you’re here?”
I slapped a hand to his shoulder. “Can’t talk about it, old man. You know that.” I didn’t yet know why Manu had called this audience and I’d find out soon enough, but Henri didn’t need to know that, or he’d speculate the worst.
Releasing a long breath, he lowered his gaze. “Sure, sure. Anyway, are your parents expecting you?”
I shook my head, eliciting a deep, hoarse laugh from Henri. “Got a message from Dad saying Mom broke her hip. Figured I’d surprise her and see how she’s doing in person.” My dad had sent me a letter outlining how a pack of gray wolves had attacked my mom during a solo hunting trip. In winter, wolves attacked anything with a heartbeat.
She should have known better than to go out alone.
“Don’t be too harsh on her, boy. She’s getting old and makes mistakes. We all do.”
I was uncertain what he meant, but figured I’d find out once I visited my parents. Thunder boomed again as if the apocalypse had rolled into town. I had to move if I intended to make it home alive.
“Better head off. If you see Manu, tell him I’m here.”
“Will do. Great to have you home, Vin.”
“Thanks.” Pulling the collar tight around my neck, I picked up the duffel bag and threaded my arms through the straps. My brain was on fast-forward with images of my parents’ smiles, what they’d say, whether I should sneak through the back door to surprise them, or countless other scenarios. But above all, getting home fast was priority.
The moment I stepped outside, an assault of biting winds nipped at me, gripping me in their icy claws. Snow flew on the diagonal, cloaking the street, obscuring the building and trees. The local weatherman must be new to the job because the blizzard wasn’t waiting for the couple more days of his prediction. It was here, now, with me in it. My hands swelled with the onset of the storm.
It felt as if I had slugged through an ocean of icebergs. Back in Hungary, the winters never seemed this bitter. I broke into a faster march, my chin tucked low as tiny ice crystals pelted my frozen cheeks. Once in the pitch-black woods, I recalled the way to my parents’ cabin. Follow the path for half an hour to the two birches that had grown so close they twisted into one massive trunk. Then swing left off the track and head uphill. The familiarity of the birch, cloudberry, and smoky scents made me smile.
The wind screamed in circles around me. My boots slid on the slick snow underfoot, and each step was sluggish as I battled the beast of a storm. Deciding I’d never make it home at this rate, I dropped the bag to the ground and undressed. Boots and socks off. I stuffed my belongings into my bag. An Arctic chill snapped around me as my teeth chattered, and my warm breath was sucked away by the cold. But I’d seen worse blizzards. I’d survive.
I called to my wolf. He surged forward like a tsunami, claiming my whole body. Limbs elongated, jaw stretched, and glorious warm fur covered my wolf form. On all fours, I shook away the last remnants of my human form. The world sharpened and showed shadows in the night where my human eyes hadn’t seen them.
A howl crashed past my throat. I cherished the freedom, eliciting wolf howls from the distance.
I snatched the bag handle with my teeth and trotted along the worn road.
A deluge of gusts beat at my back. The icy flakes were a wet tongue on my nose.
Ahead, white lights twinkled amid the trees. The quicker I moved, the clearer they became, swinging against a porch railing. A warm glow shone out from the corners of a log cabin’s windows, but with the blinds pulled, it was impossible to see inside. Smoke wafted from the chimney atop the high-pitched roof. Snow piled in small drifts at the front door. Other houses stood deeper in the woods, invisible in the storm. Wulfkin families typically changed homes when they outgrew them. Anyone could live at this cabin now. Back in my day, Mr. Vasara, a schoolteacher who’d retired after losing his wife to another hunter, had owned this spot.
I reeled sideways from the ferocious gusts. Fresh powder gathered around me, now knee-deep as a slice of panic rose within me. Stopping back at the cabin until the storm eased played on my mind. Most members of the pack would remember me.
A slight movement farther ahead on the narrow passage between two trunks caught my attention—glinting eyes. A rabbit or fox? Its white fur camouflaged the animal in the snow. I’d reach home tonight, one step in front of the other, but it wouldn’t be easy as the wind shoved against me.
The distinctive crack of wood echoed, followed by a swooshing sound.
I froze. Where’s it coming from?
A gigantic tree limb fell in front of me, landing with a crash a mere foot away. I leapt back. The branches lashed against my face, and I stumbled backward from the flurry of snow.
Son of a . . .
The glint of eyes caught my attention again from within the folds of green foliage around the fallen tree. I rushed over and found an Arctic fox caught under a limb, his body unresponsive to my prods. Burying my nose in the white fur, I inhaled his sweet and earthy scent along with a coppery tang, but I noted his pulse. Still alive.
My wolf’s first instinct was to enjoy the delicious meal for extra energy. But my head filled with stories my mom once told me about Arctic foxes. In Finland, they represented good luck and opportunities. My wolf whined, insisting that finding this morsel was indeed both opportune and lucky.
Mom’s words streamed through my mind about how an Arctic fox only appeared when magic was afoot. It didn’t seem right eating him. Or leaving him here to die. I could carry him home, which was another hour’s hike in this storm, but not my bag.
I glanced back at the house. Lights twinkled through the torrential snowfall like torches calling to my salvation. Was the fox’s presence a message to rest?
As if the weather listened to my thoughts, a blanket of snow descended in sheets, layering the woods in more white, including the fox and me. If I continued my trek, I’d end up a frozen Popsicle, lost in the woods.
With haste, I shifted into human form, the icy razor blades cutting my flesh the instant I lost the fur. I lifted the branch and freed the unmoving fox. Once dressed, I picked up the fox, tucking him under my arm. Together, we retreated toward the log cabin. In this storm, if I had continued to my parents’ house, I’d probably end up flattened by a fallen tree just like the fox.
Chapter Three
CACEY
I jabbed Anja’s number into my cell phone and paced in the kitchen, one arm clutched around my stomach. I had to tell Anja I was headed there for my daughter and, most importantly, to keep her safe until I got there. “Come on, pick up.”
A beeping sound screeched through the earpiece. The connection broke.
“No. No. No.” Tension grew in my limbs and neck, my mind replaying the scenario of Daan’s goon kidnapping Tianna. I strained for each breath as a primal urge to run out of the house and straight for Anja’s jolted within me.
Fuckin’ storm. “What am I supposed to do now?” An invisible hand squeezed my chest. What if the stranger had already taken Tianna? Bile rose in the back of my throat. I stared at the bag filled with the bare necessities—clothes, ration of food, photos, and two of Tianna’s plush wolf toys. I’d need to hire a truck to haul the rest of our things. We’d start fresh elsewhere. Then why did it feel as if my heart struggled to keep a steady beat? Susi had become home, the pack my family. My insides were raw as if the outside storm blew right through me.
A lashing of winds swept into the cabin, throttling the place. My nerves pinched at the thought of going outside. I’d get blown away. The niggling sensation deep in my gut reminded me how perfect the last eight months had been. How welcoming the pack was. How my medical training had helped the young and elderly. Was I ready to give that up?
I hiccupped the next inhale. Tianna was counting down the days to having a real Christmas for the first time in her life. Wulfkin didn’t celebrate human holidays. But from the moment Tianna discovered that this pack celebrated Christmas, she made me promise we’d stay. I had even promised to make her a stocking this year, which was half done and hidden in the nightstand. Every day, she marked off the days in December, announcing gleefully the remaining count. How could I snuff away her dreams? The worst part wasn’t leaving a pack I considered my family, or abandoning our home, but that I’d shatter an eight-year-old’s heart in the process. My eyes prickled, but I pushed those emotions behind the potential tears away. No time to fall apart. The priority was making sure Tianna remained safe.
Next to the kitchen, the French doors rattled on their hinges. In the backyard, the snow was a white sheet with mounting piles of powdery flakes collecting on the veranda. The outside walls groaned.
I scrunched my nose from
the pungent stink of mildew and wet dog fur wafting through the house. A gap in the basement foundation had caused dampness there for months, releasing all sorts of reeks. But I supposed that was no longer my problem.
Trudging through the storm for several hours to reach Tianna concerned me. And once I had her safely in my care, how far would we get before we turned into icicles? As a wulfkin, I could transform and withstand the weather, but Tianna was still a moonwulf. Without a full moon, she couldn’t shift. In her human form, she’d freeze to death.
I paced from the fireplace to the kitchen, fingers digging into my hips.
If I trekked to Anja’s house in wolf form, I’d end up frozen in the woods, and then Tianna would be alone.
A forceful knock resonated from the front door, startling me from my thoughts.
I flinched. The whole house creaked, trees swished, branches grating against the roof. “Calm down, it’s just the weather,” I said out loud to no one while releasing a long breath.
When another knock came, this time, louder, I shuddered. Someone was at the front door. Not my imagination. My breaths turned to pants as a cold sweat beaded down my back.
The stranger. He must have followed me home, hoping to find Tianna. I backtracked into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. My wolf nipped beneath my skin, desperate for release to protect us with every fiber of her being. Still, my adrenaline flew through my veins, but I couldn’t move a single muscle.
Another knock echoed through me, and I fumbled with the knife to stop it from falling out of my grasp. I inched closer, and goose bumps littered my skin. The guy I’d seen near the general store was huge. No way I could take him down, even in my wolf form, and that terrified the crap out of me. Who would protect Tianna if I were knocked out? Or worse. I swallowed.
Pull it together. Don’t show fear.