Passion (BBW: Big, Beautiful Werewolf): Werewolves of Montana Mating Mini 3

by Bonnie Vanak

  Frantic, she searched the melee for Jake. And saw him.

  Her lover was slamming his fists over and over into a wolf she knew was Luke Silvern. Shifting was forbidden during a Skin fight, but Luke never heeded the rules. And it made little difference, because Jake was winning.

  Even as Luke whined pitifully, Jake continued to hit him, his fists bloodied.

  Two Silvern males jumped Jake, and snarling, he fought them off.

  She must stop this.

  She must drag out this hidden menace. But how could she expose it?

  She picked up a rock and threw it into the water, but the rock only tumbled to the bottom. The shadow remained hidden as more blood trickled into the pond, faster and faster.

  Molly sensed the violence would not end until enough blood had been spilled. Maybe not even until all the males were dead.

  The black shadow that had been in the water hovered by a clump of saw palmetto bushes, drinking the spilled blood.

  Was she the only one who noticed?

  Molly opened the container of salt and threw the contents at the black silhouette. The mass screeched like a banshee and then materialized into a crone clad in a long gray robe. The crone had gray hair and a red twist of a mouth and cold, dead eyes.

  Witch.

  The men fighting around her didn’t pay attention, so intent was their determination to kill each other. Molly screamed.

  “Help me, please!”

  But her screams went ignored as the men continued to fight.

  The witch cackled and pointed a finger. Vines fell off a nearby tree and ensnared Molly’s ankles. They dragged her backward, to the edge of the clearing, toward a large slash pine tree. Wood was piled around the tree, forming a ring much like stones surrounding a campfire. Only Molly had a terrible suspicion this campfire held evil intentions.

  The witch waved a hand and more vines fell from the tree, ensnaring Molly’s wrists. They snaked up the tree trunk to a nearby limb, wrapped around it and pulled tight.

  Now she dangled by her arms. The pull of her muscles was excruciating. She bit her lip, suppressing a whimper.

  She kicked and struggled, and then tried to shift. But the witch’s powers had plugged her magick like a cork in the bottle. Molly stared at her enemy.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “He’s mine. He was mine, from the moment he saw me. I called him by name and he would have died for me. But he escaped. And then you threatened to destroy my hold by distracting him and telling him you love him. I have to kill you, don’t you see?”

  The hag said this in an understanding voice, as if Molly was a girlfriend and they swapped tales about unhappy relationships.

  “I will never let him go. And you, you think he loves you, cares for you, you red shifter?”

  The high-pitched shriek of laughter scraped against Molly’s eardrums. “He’s too busy fighting, enraged like the others. Soon, they’ll all die and I’ll be even more powerful. I’ll drink their blood, and feast.”

  Please wake up, she has cast a spell over you to make you all hate. Please, stop this!

  The witch pointed a finger. A flame leapt upward, caught, black smoke dancing on the wind. It began to spread. The nearby brush started to burn. Dry leaves and needles littering the ground caught fire, approaching the tree.

  She was going to burn alive. Molly pulled at her bonds, her limbs leaden with terror, her heart racing with panic. All her life she’d never feared fire. Fire was good, it warmed them at night, it kept the crops from freezing when the weather grew cold. Now, seeing the orange tongues lap greedily at the wood, drawing closer to her, she understood.

  Fire would eat her alive.

  “Scream for Jake all you want and he will not care.” The witch laughed and clapped her hands like a child seeing a favorite show. “But I can save you. Tell me you do not love Jake and I will release you. No burning. No pain.”

  Fire licked closer to her ankles, oh gods, it was hot, so very hot. Molly whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

  “I love you Jake,” she whispered.

  “You do not. Forsake him and live. You can end all this and the burning will cease.”

  “I love you, Jake,” Molly sobbed.

  She would never deny him. Never lie, for his love had shown her the power of life and passion, and for two precious nights, she had known such passion that fire could not silence her. She loved him and the strength of his love for her fed her courage. Better to die with Jake’s name on her lips than to submit to lies. She didn’t care where they lived, or if they had a pack or not. She loved him.

  Deep inside, Molly knew the witch would never let her live, no matter what words she uttered.

  The heat raked sharp claws over her feet as she kicked and struggled, smoke pouring over her body, into her lungs.

  Molly opened her mouth and screamed.

  “I love you, Jake! I love you, Jake!”

  In the middle of punching a Silvern male to a bloody pulp, Jake heard a distant call. And then it became like thunder.

  “I love you, Jake!”

  He went absolutely still, ignoring the unconscious male at his feet, the raging sounds of violence surrounding him. Molly. In terrible pain, suffering, she called out. Not for him, but to declare her feelings. His chest swelled with emotion and tears sprang to his eyes. It felt like his beautiful Molly was dying. He loved her. He had to find her, save her, oh gods, was he too late? How long had she been calling for him?

  How much longer, until her voice became a thin whisper, her breath fainter and then she breathed no more?

  He turned, his throat closed with horror.

  At the furthest edge of the clearing, Molly dangled by her arms on a length of green vines. Fire ringed the slash pine tree holding her captive. Orange flames licked greedily near the tree. In minutes her body would be engulfed. Her long hair spilling down her backside, her eyes wild with panic, she stared at him in helpless terror.

  Nearby was a woman, about her age, dark-haired and beautiful, except for the malevolence in her eyes. Clothed in a flowing black gown, she had an air of pure evil.

  Fists bloodied, Jake stepped aside and stared at the woman.

  “Karlene? How the hell did you rise from the dead?”

  Chapter 14

  His head hurt like hell, his nose was broken, his lip torn and his fists bruised and bloodied. Those he’d fought were worse.

  But the pain became a fading companion. Shock had replaced it.

  The female he’d once thought he loved, had vowed to mate and protect with his life, stood before him, Karlene’s long dark hair billowing in the wind, her shapely body covered by a silky robe.

  Jake stared, and then looked at her eyes. Red flickered there, and then faded.

  “You died,” he said hoarsely.

  Karlene’s expression turned sorrowful. “You thought I died, my darling Jake. It wasn’t me. It’s me now, your Karlene. I’ve come back to you. You let me burn. It hurt, Jake. It hurt so much. I screamed and begged you to help me, but you didn’t.”

  He started to run away, toward Molly. Smoke, was there smoke? Fire? His head felt poured full of concrete, his mind muddled.

  “Jake, please, don’t abandon me like before, please!”

  He turned.

  His former lover stretched out her hands and he stared into her eyes, feeling himself drown, forgetting all else. “Jake, please, come to me. I love you. I’m back and we’re meant to be together.”

  So beautiful. She’d always looked ethereal, her long hair flowing down her back, her cheeks flushed with color, her mouth wet and red. Karlene forgave him, and would ease any guilt he felt at failing her. He took a step forward, haunted by the lyrical melody in her voice as she sang out to him.

  “Come to me, Jake.”

  Nothing else mattered. He forgot everything around him, saw only her beauty and her mesmerizing eyes beckoning to him…

  “JAKE, I LOVE YOU!”

  A pleading sob.
He stopped, forced himself to tear away his gaze from Karlene. He looked back and shook his head, trying to free himself from the spell gripping his mind.

  Molly. His present and future. Karlene was solitude emptiness, the coldness of a gray morning, while Molly was warmth of pack and home. She taught him to value himself as a Lupine, that he could go home again to where he was needed most. She made him realize some things were worth fighting for—pack and family.

  “Molly,” he said thickly.

  Tearing off his torn shirt, he ran over to the pond, flung it into the water. He raced back to the fire, beat at the flames, but they did not die. His eyes watered from the acrid, oily stench and the toxic smoke. Jake coughed, beating at the fire.

  Scrub crackled as the dry leaves caught and burst into fire. The flames would not extinguish. Blue flames turned black. Terror shone in Molly’s eyes as the fire licked at her ankles.

  Jake ran back to the pond and soaked his shirt again. Gathering all his courage, he raced past the flames to the tree. Tremendous heat baked his body as the fire snapped and spat at him. He reached Molly, the woman he loved, and smothered the flames from her burning ankles. To his shock, they did not reignite.

  “Jake,” Molly sobbed. “I love you, I love you.”

  He reached into his jeans pocket, flicked out his Buck knife, the knife he’d refused to fight with, and sawed at her bonds. Please, come on, come on. But for every vine he cut, another snaked upward and wound around her wrists.

  She was going to burn to death. Jake stared helplessly at her, the wild panic in her eyes, her lovely rose red mouth.

  “It’s so hot, Jake.” Tears streamed down her face. “Go. Please. Live. Get out of here.”

  He held her close, helpless with fear, rage and grief. And running through all of it was an icy calm and certainty.

  “If I can’t free you,” he whispered, “then we die together. I can’t live without you, Molls.”

  The witch screamed and danced around the fire. Laughter screeched through the air, cutting into his sensitive eardrums.

  “You were an easy mark, like all males, Jake Anderson. All I had to do was taint the air with a special potion. A potion to stir up male frustration. You were supposed to play the hero and rush inside and save me from the fire. That fool alpha, Aiden, stopped you. If not for him, I’d have fed off your dying terror. You’re the only one who escaped me. I couldn’t let that happen. I never fail when I capture men. Did you wonder why the violence and the emotions in this park never affected you? It was because you broke my spell when you left Montana. But fighting renewed it, oh, it made you equally violent.”

  Cold sweat poured down his back, mixing with the blood from his wounds. His greatest fears were manifested in this witch.

  The dark enchantress. Weaver of mystic dreams and men’s terror.

  “You knew me as Karlene. Some call me Millicent. In the Old Tongue, I am Bryn. I thrive on your terror and your burning.”

  Jake threw his arms around Molly, the heat hurting him now as the fire crackled and the thick smoke swirled around them. Maybe if he sheltered her a little, she could hold on until others came. Squeezing the water from the shirt over her head, he then tucked her face into the shirt.

  “Breathe into this, sweetheart. It’ll help with the smoke,” he told her.

  Karlene danced around the fire, as it raged, as the men continued to fight, trapped in her spell. Jake knew they would fight until they were all dead.

  “I’ll scorch you and your little whore, Jake Anderson. I’ll burn her until she screams and begs me to kill her. Such pain, such exquisite pain. You will die with my name on your lips.”

  “I’ve already died, and shouted another’s name.” He kissed Molly’s head. “My only true love is Molly, who loves me in return. Not that false promise you made. You’re nothing but an illusion, a tease of lust. Not love.”

  Karlene could never know love, never hold it in her hands, nor sit by a plastic bin, coaxing a small woodland creature to live, an animal most Lupines would regard as prey. Molly had compassion, strength and loyalty and heart. Her beauty blazed with the fire of passion and love, while Karlene’s beauty remained cold as frost.

  Coughing, he turned his head and stared at Karlene. “You can kill us, but you’ll never kill our love for each other.”

  And then as he watched the fire, the flames now licking at his ankles, something odd happened. The flames sputtered, as if an invisible hand beat them out.

  Molly’s cries had broken through the spell holding him hostage. Maybe it would work for the others. He had to break a strong male free from this enthrallment.

  Robert chased William Silvern closer to the fire, so close Jake could see his enraged expression as he punched and kicked at William, who fell to the ground.

  Jake shouted with all his might. “I love Molly! Help me save her!”

  Crimson trickling down his temple, Robert stopped beating William Silvern. He looked up, his gaze confused, like a man awoken from a deep sleep.

  “Molly!” Jake shouted. “Molly! Help me, Robert!”

  “Uncle Rob!” Molly screamed. “Help us. Save Jake!”

  Robert turned, saw them. He started for them. Karlene screamed and pointed at him, tossing a fireball at him. But the alpha held out his hand and the fire extinguished before it hit the alpha.

  “You can’t burn me,” Robert said calmly. “My powers are greater than your burning.”

  With a shrill scream, Karlene rushed him. Robert flung out his claws and raked them over her face. Her scream turned into a moan as she staggered back.

  “My face, oh, my beautiful face! What have you done?”

  Robert ran over to them, through the flames, and flung his arms around both of them. His skin was blessedly cool, and Jake moaned with relief.

  “I can’t extinguish the flames, but I’ll be damned if I let you both die,” Robert grated out.

  Then Jake saw that the flames had retreated, no longer roaring to the sky. “It’s working. Karlene’s power is hatred and fear. If we stand together, we can defeat her magick.”

  Now that Karlene’s hold was broken on Robert, the other Lupines began to shake free of her spell. Jake realized it took all the witch’s power to hold them captive, and keep the magick fire burning. The rival packs stopped fighting, turned and saw the fire. Together with Aiden and his men, they began dumping handfuls of sand on the flames, which burned even brighter.

  The witch had sent her dark magick to divide the packs, and cause chaos and violence. She fed on discord.

  “If we stand together, we can defeat her,” Jake yelled, and then dissolved into a fit of coughing. Smoke burned his lungs, filled his mouth.

  “She started all this, sent you into this violence.” Molly coughed. “Help us defeat her!”

  Blood streaming down her cheeks, Karlene lifted her hands and chanted. The fire grew hotter and the small opening through the flames vanished.

  Aiden, working with J.J. and Raphael to extinguish the flames, looked at his men. “We need to target the source. Maybe we can’t kill her, but we can try to take her down. Shift and circle the prey!”

  Never had he heard more beautiful words. Aiden, his men, along with J.J. and Raphael, shifted into wolf and surrounded Karlene like wolves about to bring down a weak and injured deer, and bared their teeth.

  Karlene pointed a finger at Aiden, and flames shot out, but the stream of fire sputtered, as if her powers waned. Aiden dodged the blow. She did it again and each time, the fire ringing the tree receded.

  Jake looked at William Silvern, staring helplessly at them through the flames.

  “She can’t defend herself and maintain the same power while trying to kill us. If you join us, show her that you are unified with Robert, her powers will die. It’s how she tore up our pack in Montana, set all the males against each other.”

  Robert turned his head and looked at William Silvern. “Help us. If we are unified, we are strong. Lupine.”

 
“We have to stand together,” Jake yelled. “Forget the bonds of pack. We need the bonds of wolf to defeat her!”

  Jake reached out a hand to father and son. “Forget your rivalry and your pride. Help me save Molly.”

  William hesitated. Then Luke tugged at his father’s arm. “Godsdamnit, Dad, we can’t let them burn to death! Do it!”

  Together they raced through the opening in the flames and flung their arms around Molly, Jake and Robert.

  As if someone poured gallons of water over the flames, the fire began to die. Hope beat wildly in Jake’s chest. “It’s working,” he yelled. “We need everyone from both packs together in this!”

  William and Robert growled at their men. “Do it,” William snapped.

  The males rushed forward, embracing each other as they formed a ring around the tree. As they did so, the fire winked out. Molly gave a powerful tug and the vines holding her captive broke.

  Jake pulled her into his arms, tore away the shirt and kissed her sooty face.

  Faced with their unity, Karlene’s power was dying. Both packs faced the witch. Aiden and his pack, along with J.J. and Raphael, shifted back to Skin.

  All of them went over to the tree, next to Molly and Jake. They stood together, as Lupines.

  “You can’t kill us,” Jake said hoarsely, holding Molly tight. “We are Lupine and we are strong. And you have no power over us. I see you finally for what you are—your ugliness.”

  A banshee wail cut through the air as Karlene tore at her hair. And then she changed, her glowing beauty fading. The delicate nose turned into a hook, her lush mouth a red slash, her once full figure into skin and bones.

  She melted, shrinking and wailing until she stood only high as a cypress knee, her black robes puddling around her. No longer a woman, a witch with feminine wiles, she resembled a horrid gremlin-thing, two red beady eyes glaring in a blackened face.

  “You can’t kill me,” the thing whispered. “I will fade but live on and rise again. Nothing can kill me.”

  A bright flash of silver came and out of the cloud, stepped a man clad in black. Shoulder-length black hair spilled past the collar of his shirt, each strand tipped with silver.