by Cloe Cullen
Eyeing an opening in the Changeling circle, Jorah roared once again and charged through, the other Changelings quickly running after him. The vicious, longing howls of the tawny wolf rang out behind him.
Jorah was fast, but the Changelings were faster, sprinting on either side of him and yapping and slapping their jaws together in a strange frantic melody. They’re hunting, Jorah realized. They’re hunting me! More than once Jorah turned to follow the dirt and gravel trail up the Northern Mountains, only to have to crack the bones of a Changeling standing in his way. Luckily the woman still clung to his back, her sharp breaths and aching moans showing her semi-conscious displeasure at the bumpy ride.
Just hold on a bit longer, Jorah thought as he bounded up the slopes, the steaming breaths of the Changelings still hot on his trail. One big wolf barreled up the side of a cliff face, using the side of its body to slam Jorah into another dirt wall. Because his movement was now inhibited, Jorah rose up on his hind legs to protect the woman from any Changeling strikes, but that backfired quickly as two cougars sunk their teeth in his hind legs, causing Jorah to roar out at the flaring pain. He used his front paws to smash down on the two cougars, crushing them and ending their lives.
Another first, though Jorah wasn’t one to celebrate the death of any creature. Free, he continued his ascent, feeling the woman still clutching his hair. Her body vibrated on his back, shivering from the increasing cold air. That wasn’t good, not in the slightest. With his thick coat, Jorah would be fine in the cold, but a naked shifter? No, he wouldn’t be able to make it all the way to the top with her like this...he needed one of his secret caves.
Over the years as Jorah slowly descending farther and farther down the mountain, he’d discovered a variety of cozy and sizeable caves that overlooked the Oldwood. In a few he even stashed extra clothes and food...though most of the food would probably be stale by now.
But Jorah had to put that thought on hold as the remaining two Changelings following him leapt onto his back, swiping and digging their claws into his side. More hot flashes swept through his body, causing Jorah to clench his teeth and spin to get the Changelings off him. He was successful with one, throwing it off the side to dash itself on the rocks below, but the second was resourceful, using everything in its power to hang on. Just when Jorah thought his short quest to save the woman had failed, the dark tawny wolf from early appeared and barreled into the Changeling, sending them both over the side.
The tawny wolf managed to dig its paws into the dirt, delaying his fall, whimpering and eyeing Jorah, but ultimately it slipped and tumbled down.
Jorah went wide-eyed, realizing the dark tawny wolf had chased them and sacrificed himself to save the woman. He glanced over his shoulder to see the woman still shivering, her eyes closed and her hands gripping his back hair so hard they began to turn purple. As much as Jorah wanted to check on the other wolf, to see if he survived the fall, he needed to get this woman to a safe haven pronto.
So, Jorah reluctantly turned from the edge of the trail and hurried up the slope, his mind and heart racing at the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
Chapter Eight: Jorah
I t took another couple miles up the mountains trail to find one of his secret caves.
Jorah had to force himself to calm down in order to find it, his ragged breathing and thumping heart only quickening because of how badly the woman began to shiver. This far up the mountain snow blanketed the ground and the chilled wind cut sharper than knives. Jorah’s own heavy sweat began to form icicles in the cold. Worse yet, a snowstorm threatened to blow in, causing Jorah to hurry, fighting through the burning in his hind legs and sides, eager to find a place for them both to rest.
And then he found it through the dusk, the small cave opening he remembered stocking with warm clothes and drink and now stale food. The fit was tight, too tight for a full-sized bear to waddle in, so he gently placed the female shifter down in the snow so he could shift to his human form, her body arching at the touch of the frost. Cursing under his breath as he shifted and scooped her up in his burly arms, Jorah slid inside, somehow managing to find a woven cot on the floor in the darkness. Placing her gently on the cot, she curled up, and Jorah quickly made to move a bundle of thick sticks tied together as a makeshift door over the entrance, to help soften the flow of the cold air.
The woman still shuddered, though, and so Jorah’s next thought involved finding a flintstone and some extra wood. Squinting in the darkness of the cave, Jorah managed to find a stockpile of clothes, a chest of spoiled food just as he predicted, a few hideskin jugs of cold ale and a few flintstones. But no wood.
Cursing, Jorah took to flintstones and a few articles of clothing and tossed them close to the woman. Using the flintstones he fought for a few sparks of light. Failing, he began to strike the flintstones harder and quicker, finally creating sparks and setting the clothes on fire, lighting up the cave and warming the immediate area. He knew the fire alone wouldn’t be enough to help the girl, so he quickly grabbed a large, wool blanket that Dallan had once stitched together. Gently placing himself over the woman, he wrapped one arm around her, pulling her body to his, and then placed the blanket over them both.
Dallan’s wise words echoed in his mind: if one wanted to save another from dying of the cold, body heat would scare the frost away. As much of a hardass as Dallan was, he’d taught Jorah everything he knew. Striking fires, warming another with one’s own body, stitching together blankets. If the female wolf shifter survived, she’d have Dallan to thank as much as him.
But thoughts of Dallan quickly faded as Jorah realized the brevity of his situation.
Not only did he venture down to the Oldwood, even stepped foot into the forest, but he’d saved a wolf shifter, of all creatures, and brought her up the mountain. His meaty hands put pressure on the soft small of her back, her skin gentle and seeming to suck in his fingers. The rest of her body, slender and soft, pressed close to his torso without his prodding, as if she were desperately trying to suck the warmth out of him. Her small hands pawed his chest and shoulders, gripping tightly to the point of piercing his skin. Jorah winced at the pain, but managed to stay still, focusing on the woman’s pink lips, her rosy cheeks, her long eyelashes, the curling, almost glistening locks of blonde hair that tickled his chin and nose. He found her legs beginning to intertwine with his, tensing his body.
Jorah did his best not let his mind wander in the unsavory plains of lust while she gradually grew closer and closer to him. Whoever she was, she was beautiful, more beautiful than any other woman he’d ever met or seen. Like a woodland nymph, an angel who fell from the heavens. It wasn’t difficult to see how entranced Jorah had become with her while they lay quietly together, warming each other under the blanket from the cold chill of the oncoming night.
This delicate being was what the Seers were afraid of? Jorah grinned at how foolish their laws were. Sure, maybe half an hour ago this fragile shifter was madly fighting off a group of enemies that wanted to see her throat ripped out, but now Jorah was convinced that this shallow breathing nymph was her true nature.
Obviously, Jorah hadn't gotten to actually converse with her yet, though he relished the thought, but he was sure she’d not only see reason, but would be friendly as well, eager to learn about the Bear Clan. Maybe even become interested in him…
Is that what Jorah wanted? For a female shifter from another clan to suddenly take an interest in him now that he’d saved her? He chuckled at himself. As if she’d fall in love with him instantly, though there was no denying his immediate attraction to her.
The woman suddenly inhaled sharply and twitched in his arms, so Jorah loosened his grip just enough for her to squirm. Her delicate brows furrowed, and her mouth clamped shut despite the groans arising from her throat.
“Easy now,” he whispered to her, unsure of whether she was awake or just rustling subconsciously due to some dream.
When Jorah was confident enough to say the w
oman was warm enough to survive without clutching onto his body, he carefully untangled himself from her and slid out from under the covers, checking her all over to make sure he hadn’t accidentally missed any bleeding wounds. Luckily, she wasn’t torn to pieces, just smacked around. Leaving her to rest by the fire, Jorah went to the pile of clothes, picking out a few garments for himself. Once he finished putting on his thick woolen jerkin, he rummaged in the pile for garments that might fit his guest. Considering none of the clothes were really meant for a thin female, he guessed at the sizes and created a tiny pile near the foot of her cot.
With nothing else to do, Jorah grabbed a hideskin jug of ale and sat down cross legged across from the cot, his back against the cold, smooth cave interior. It might have been creepy to anyone else, but he just watched her while he drank his fill of the ale, unable to rip his gaze away. That is, until the crunching of snow and voices from the outside reached his ears.
Rapidly, Jorah leapt to his feet, his body tensing at the sounds, and steeling himself for whoever, or whatever, pushed aside his makeshift door. Exhausted from the previous battle, he wasn’t exactly physically or mentally ready to handle back-to-back fights, but maybe he’d get lucky.
And he did, because the three voices that trudged closer were all too familiar.
Keanu moved Jorah’s makeshift door aside first before ducking to walk inside. Frowning at the fire, Keanu’s gaze immediately widened at the sight of Jorah. “You’re here…” he simply said.
“What, who’s here?” Finn’s ecstatic voice said from behind the big guy. Instead of Finn, Nyx wiggled past Keanu a moment later, her frigid frown breaking just like Keanu’s as her eyes locked onto him. “Come on, move it Keanu!” Finn shouted.
“Where the hell have you been?” Nyx promptly asked, a hint of anger and frustration edging her voice. She jerked forward, running up to him and embracing him. “We thought maybe you’d left for good...normally it doesn’t take you this long to come back up.”
Jorah returned the embrace, catching Keanu’s longing look at Nyx’s back and quickly releasing her. “Look, I can explain everything, but I’m going to need you guys to keep it down.”
“Some of the Seers saw us come back up,” Nyx said rapidly, her voice loud and echoing in the cave. As she spoke, Finn finally managed to wiggle into the cave behind her. “They brought us to Dallan for punishment, and when he asked what happened, we explained we just went down a little bit, to look out over the world. We tried to pretend like you weren’t involved, but of course this is Dallan we’re talking about. He ordered us to come find you and bring you back for punishment.”
Jorah clicked his tongue. It was a sure bet Dallan wouldn’t go so easy on him this time, especially with who he’d brought along from the Oldwood. “That’s great, Nyx, but please calm down and lower your voice, okay?”
The female shifter in the cot rolled over to her side, moaning something, catching everyone’s attention.
“What the hell is that?” Finn said, pointing at the woman in the cot. Everyone looked to Jorah with curious looks. “I know I’ve never seen her before.”
Nyx finally lowered her voice, her expression drooping. “Were we...interrupting something.”
Oh geez, this wouldn’t turn out well if Jorah didn’t pick his next words carefully. He could picture the immediate future, Nyx exploding at him about his journey to the foot of the mountain. So, he gulped, and cleared his throat. “Okay, look, this isn’t what it seems like, but you’re all going to need to sit down to hear this tale. You might not even believe it.”
“This ought to be good,” Finn commented.
The trio proceeded to plop down on the ground, each eyeing him suspiciously, Nyx frowning the hardest of them all, and Jorah told them all about the events that had just taken place.
Chapter Nine: Nyssa
I t was dark, much too dark for anyone to see. Even cat shifters would have a hard time gazing in this pitch blackness.
Nyssa floated in the darkness, every once in while being thrown about, shoved this way or that way, her eyes catching glimpses of a dark, snowy scene around her. The glimpses only happened every once in a while, when the darkness shook like crazy. But when the shaking finally stopped, and a warm sensation rolled through her, she finally managed to get a good look at a figure in the dark.
At first the figure was gray-haired, with steely eyes and a rough, but muscular exterior. Darius! He stood just next to her, her body suddenly clinging to his, her hands running over his chest. This was unbelievable, why was Darius here in the darkness with her? No, it had to be a dream. A dream was the only thing it could be.
As soon as she decided Darius’ image was a dream, it morphed into something stranger, into something bigger and harder. Another man, with dark brown hair so long it was tied back, and narrow, brooding eyes that watched her quietly, his skin much tanner than Darius’ ever was. The man held her, warmed her; a hallucination for certain, but why did Nyssa dream of such a man? His arms, big and strong, wrapped around her body. She felt cozy in them, like they would keep her safe from any monster or big baddies that came her way. Like the Changelings...like the Changelings? Wait, where were the Changelings?
As soon as the dark shapes entered her mind, the man vanished into a mist that dissipated, until finally Nyssa opened eyes.
Her dream had felt like only minutes, but her body ached considerably, like one after a long battle, indicating to her that considerable time had passed since then. She moaned, rolling over onto what felt like her side. With her vision blurred from rest, she had to rely on touch to figure out what was happening, and where she was. Voices came to her ears, but for the time being she focused on simply waking and opening her eyes completely.
“That’s a terrible story, Jorah. You should have come up with a better one for us,”
“I’m not lying, Nyx! I swear, everything is just as I said.”
Rolling back over, a bright light caused her to shut her eyes quickly, stinging tears leaking from her irises. The rolling caused pain like needles penetrating her body to spring up, her gasps vibrating her body.
“Uh oh, looks like someone’s awake,” a male said.
“She’s in pain! Back up, Finn, don’t make it worse for her,” a second male voice commanded.
“Oh please, I bet she’s just dreaming after you two slept together,” a female voice said.
“That isn’t what happened, Nyx. Just let it go for now.”
Suddenly Nyssa became aware of something covering her, something long and thick...some sort of hideskin blanket. Combined with the light, which, as she gradually opened her eyes to see it was a fire, her body remained heated and snug. Panting because of a pounding headache, Nyssa’s vision cleared, her brows remaining furrowed as she spied moving figures above her. One of the dark figures leaned down, helping her to sit up, his familiar burly arms keeping the blanket to her chest as she swayed up, her arms clutching her head.
“Are you alright?” The man said.
Just like in her dream, the man keeping her stable in her upright position was tanned and muscular, a trait evident even through the jerkin that covered his torso. Dark, chiseled brows and jaw created a brooding look, made complete with hazel eyes and dark brown hair tied back, and a closely trimmed beard. Nyssa got caught up in his intense gaze as he watched her, as if he were spying into her soul. A small smile made her heart leap out of its socket in her chest, and she made every effort to try not to slur her speech in front of the handsome man.
“I, uh...where am I?”
“In a cave, surrounded by friends,” the man said. His words were warm and gentle, and she found that she wanted to hear him speak more, already she couldn’t get enough. “My name’s Jorah...do you remember what happened?”
As Nyssa struggled to retain her memories, her headache roared with a vengeance, causing her mind to sizzle and pound. She clutched at her head tightly, but with every ache the recent past came back to her. Heading into the Old
wood with Remus, Bronwen and Lowell, splitting up and chasing a Changeling, winding up in a trap, and then blacking out. There was nothing after that…
“I can’t believe this...” A frowning woman said from behind Jorah. “Did you really save her?”
“I did, for the last time,” Jorah said. He gripped the blanket covering Nyssa, throwing her a look. “Sorry for this.” Uncovering the blanket from her body, causing Nyssa to wince a bit, he revealed her naked body, at first all she saw were the bruises and small cuts and wounds that were in the process of closing, but slowly, surely, it hit her that she wasn’t wearing any type of clothing. Before she could complain, though, garments that appeared too big for someone of her size were thrown at her, which she rapidly grabbed and began to put on without question.
It was then that Nyssa noticed two other men in the room, both simply staring at her. Scowling at them, the giant one just turned around and other clasped his hands behind his head, glanced away and began to whistle. The one named Jorah turned around as she stood to clothe herself, her wobbling legs making it difficult. The woman simply watched her, still frowning. When she was done, she backed up to the wall, which was smooth and rounded to the touch. The inside of a cave, she thought. Where in Gray Creek did people reside in caves?
“Where am I?” Nyssa blurted out. “Who are you people...I’ve never seen any of you around Gray Creek before.”
Each of the four surrounding her, flicked confused gazes between each other, the handsome one placing his hands on his hips, his gaze locking onto hers.
“Gray Creek? What is that?” The skinny man said.