Before Hunter said goodbye to the boy and his mother, he had stocked the freezer and smoke house with enough meat to share if game was scarce in the winter months. There was enough for two seasons. That was Hunter’s pay in his own small way for the kindness they extended him. But it wasn’t a small gesture to the boy and his mother.
Taking him by the hand the boy led Hunter to a shed. Hunter climbed on the snowmobile and headed west for the lake that would take him to the other side, where he could find his way home.
He looked back and waved goodbye to them. He had to ride and reach the other side and get across as soon as possible. The ice appeared solid enough. He had survived Bane against Bane’s wishes for him to die. He had survived the men in the plane who had mistaken him for a wolf and shot him. He didn’t die then. He became stronger and he learned the things to avoid. Maybe that was part of his learning experience his father had talked about. He could feel his body enduring discomfort and agony, and growing strong because of it.
He smiled at his accomplishments feeling his strength and arrogance of his youth as he rode across the glistening lake, thinking of nothing else but Katie waiting for him. He had to get home to Katie and kiss her beautiful young breasts one more time.
Hunter couldn’t wait to see her face when he tells her he wants to marry her, and he would be more than happy to wait until she graduated from college. Hunter felt like the luckiest werewolf in the world, but he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings. His father had warned him of that many times.
“Don’t let your emotions control you,” his father’s words rang in his mind. Even Bane had referred to that. “You Samsas are controlled by your emotions,” Bane had said to him.
Ripping across the frozen river and just slight of the river bank, the snowmobile stalled, dropped through the ice, and quickly sank. He jumped off just in time to see it disappear into the dark cold river. But not in time to swim up through the hole it made.
Hunter became trapped under the shifting ice because he didn’t see in time where the opening was for him to climb through. He swam around hitting the ice trying to break through but each time the ice was thick and impenetrable. Hunter held his breath for as long as he could. He didn’t know how long maybe an hour. But it couldn’t have been an hour.
Hunter thought of giving up, but how could he when he had so much to live for. He didn’t feel the cold, but that could be because he was dying, he thought. He swam and each stroke became harder and harder to navigate around the lake searching for an opening that wasn’t there. He swam some more until he became dizzy and his ears froze and his eyes burned from the cold.
Still he couldn’t get to shore, or find a way up through the ice to breathe the fresh air. It was over and he knew it. He tried swimming again. And then he hit a soft spot and thrust his body upward with his last ounce of strength. To his surprise he was close to shore. If only he could will his feet to move faster, but they felt like an anchor holding him down, weighing on his body, dragging him deeper.
Calling out would be fruitless. It was the clothing that the Inuit woman gave him that saved him from imminent death, and it was buoyant as he lay there in the broken ice gasping for breath.
He had survived Bane, a gunshot wound by hunters from an airplane, only to die in a cold frozen lake seconds from the river bank.
Swimming was something he excelled at. But in low temperatures and because he can’t find the will or the energy to go further, he knew he was in trouble and he needed something else to keep him focused and drive his will. Keep a clear head, swim, and find the strength you need, his mind told him.
Hunter swam through the frozen water until he thought his head would explode, but it didn’t. His face burned and his ears were clogged with ice and yet he kept going because he calmed himself, and there it was. The river bank. He hauled himself up and through the ice and breathe the sweet air of the living and defeated death once more.
He reached out and felt solid ground.
The ice held long enough for him to crawl to get to reach a snow bank. It was a long agonizing crawl and he was wet and the clothes would weight him down. He refused to change into a wolf and make himself a prey to anyone on a hunt for wolves. So he kept the cold wet clothes, pushing his cold tired body until he reached a small cave, and he lay there until the next morning.
He had lost the food when he lost the snowmobile, and his last chance out of the frozen land, which could destroy him. Bane had hoped for his death, and it looked like Bane didn’t have long to wait.
Chapter 13
Hunter trotted through the snow in damp clothes which hung from him. The clothes quickly accumulated ice. But he needed them if ever he would meet humans. If he ever would in this empty cold land. He made a fateful decision to undress and shift into a werewolf, and then he could search for food. Water, snow, and ice were abundant. If he came across frozen lakes during his travels he could eat the snow.
It wasn’t water he needed. It was fresh meat. The burning and excruciating pain in his stomach weakened him. Never had he felt like this. His body stiffened and his movements slowed.
He never felt hunger before. He had been privileged and what Bane had said to him may have been true. “Spoiled. A rich werewolf who didn’t have to hunt for food. You never had a day in your life where you didn’t have meat to eat, or a warm place to sleep.” Bane’s envious voice resonated in Hunter’s mind.
Hunter is determined to prove Bane wrong, and he would find a way to survive if just to hunt him down to see the look on his face when he would make him pay for what he did to his mother, and for the anguish he caused him and his family.
Now more than ever, Hunter is appreciative of his father, and how he demonstrated how to hunt, and hammered the lessons of his ancestors the wolves, to eat what he killed. He raised his head, and the distinct smell of a young deer sailed across with the wind. Hunter stood, his nose in the air, then he broke into a run. Using his sense of smell, his keen hearing, and the natural instincts he was born with, he spotted his prey quickly.
This wasn’t something he relished doing. When his father first set him to hunt, he found it barbaric, but now he understood his father’s teachings because it became a necessity when survival was his aim in life. He would either die, or he had to kill to survive. And so he did kill from need.
Not wanting to stay out in the cold, he ate part of the deer and took the rest to his little cave in the side of the mountain. He expected to have enough fresh meat to make it down south where there were humans.
Hunter pulled the remainder of the small deer with his teeth, across the snow, leaving a trail of blood to his hiding place. He tried covering it and thought that the falling snow and melting ice would hide the blood. Still weak from the ordeal at the lake and chasing down the deer, he made it to the cave and dropped the meat alongside himself on the frozen floor.
Glancing around, he saw a bed of leaves and pelts of different animal skins. He took no thought to who the cave belonged to. It was his now and it would take a fight to roust him out of it. Dog tired and weak he collapsed on it.
When he glanced up, standing over him was a woman. Not any woman, but a werefemale. Tall but not regal. Pretty but not beautiful. Shapely but not the kind of female he would find attractive. At first he didn’t know if she recognized her kind.
She wasn’t afraid of him, or maybe she was too hungry to care. She moved in the direction of his meat. He snarled at her to back her up, but that didn’t work. She cautiously advanced in his direction. Then he flashed all his gleaming polished canines, but that didn’t deter her from her mission.
When she reached the deer, she stood smiling at him. That’s when Hunter knew that she was aware that he was a werewolf. He backed away to the wall of the cave and shifted into a man.
“What are you doing here?” Hunter asked her.
“This is my cave. I come here when I don’t want to be bothered,” the werefemale said. She was an attractive werefemale. L
ong dark straight hair and dark eyes. Her breasts were large and full unlike Katie’s. Her hips round and attractive. Hunter’s desire was boiling under the full Moon.
Through his struggles he had forgotten about the full Moon. But his body never forgot the feelings he received when he was with Katie, and his body hungered for that again.
He never ceased to think about the satisfaction of his first sexual arousal and encounter with Katie. It was always on his mind. It was something special to him. She was his first and he will never forget it and her. But there was too much to think about now. Survival was all that was on his mind the whole time he had been to Alaska. There was too many other things to think about so he tried to put Katie out of his mind. But she lingered there and when he felt down he would think of her and smile.
Never expecting to see a female, human, or werefemale his age, he would be attracted to, brought a warm passionate feeling over him. He wasn’t sure he could have affections for her. But then he didn’t want her. He wanted Katie. His body wanted and needed the werefemale not his mind.
Unsure of why he was drawn to this werefemale he couldn’t resist her sexuality. It was as if he was drawn to something that controlled him. Something more. Something strange. He tried to reason it out. The more he resisted the werefemale the more he was drawn in by some inexplicable force.
“What’s your name?” he asked gazing into her dark eyes.
“I’m called Soiree. What’s your name,” she said sitting next to him, and reaching for the fresh killed meat, thrusting it into her mouth in large pieces as she chewed it and swallowed it quickly.
“My name is Hunter. Do you have a pack near here?”
“Not too far,” Soiree said devouring another piece of meat. She glances up at him. “I can take you there tomorrow. Tonight I’m tired. I have been out hunting all day and found nothing.” “Are there weremales in your pack?”
“Yes. There are four males and another female,” She said glancing into his blue eyes eating quickly. She must be starving, Hunter thought.
“Why would they send you out alone?”
“Because I bring back meat. I don’t eat it all like the males. And I’m a better tracker and hunter then they are,” she said smiling.
She watched at his scar on his hip. “How did you get that?” Her finger and long nails traced the length of the scar.
“From hunters or poachers out to kill wolves from airplanes. They are nothing but cowards,” Hunter said looking down at the scar.
She watched at him with her dark eyes. She was pretty in a strange way. She didn’t have an innocent look about her like Katie. She may have been younger than she looked. Living in the wild frozen wilderness may have something to do with her matured face.
“Can I sleep with you tonight? It’s cold and I have no clothes with me,” Soiree said.
When they had eaten most of the caribou, Hunter tried to save some for his travels. Soiree lay on the side of Hunter’s naked body. Her warm nude body appealing to his senses. It aroused his young spirit. She held him around his waist when he turned his back to her. Trying not to let her affect him, but to no avail his arousal is apparent. Then she released him and lay on her back. The warmth of her body on his back and butt left him, and he tried not to look at her, but his nature and the moon was too strong, and she was more than willing to let him have her. He turned looking up at the ceiling of the cave, then he laid on his back.
Lying on the soft bed of leaves, trying not to think about Soiree next to him, he put his arms behind his head. Before he could stop Soiree or say stop, she leaned over him reaching for his penis and began stroking it up and down as she gazed into his blue eyes.
It took only a few seconds for him to become aroused. She glanced at him and then lay on her back, but then to Hunter’s surprise, she leapt up on all fours and turned her behind to him. It was wide and tempting to his nature. He became more aroused the longer she remained in that position. For a young wolf who had only one encounter with a female, watching at her naked with her ass to him is shocking as well as enticing.
“This is the way a real werewolf fucks a werefemale. Take me from behind,” she begged him. Hunter had never had a woman like this. It wasn’t civilized he thought. But then he wasn’t in civilization. He was in a cave in the middle of nowhere. She had prepared him by stroking him. Because of his youth, he was always ready since he became a yearling. Now he’s eager to take this werefemale and satisfy his yearning for sex.
He closed his eyes. Now he was lying in his bed lying over Katie, placing his penis in her tender virgin opening. But it wasn’t Katie. He had been summoned to have intercourse with the werefemale in a position he never thought to do with Katie.
Placing his hands on her butt he found himself taking his cock and plunging it into her willing werefemale opening. The feeling he got from Katie was different than the one he got from Soiree. She obviously has had many such encounters and he felt the difference.
The satisfaction although different was complete.
The moon had drawn on his desire for sex, and he had to answer its call. Hunter hadn’t learn to control his desires as his father had instructed. Wilder did say one day he would need to learn to control that deep dark yearning for sex.
Wilder didn’t have time to teach that lesson. Hunter had to learn that on his own. Wilder assumed it would be the natural course of life as a werewolf. If Hunter didn’t learn to control his nature, it would control him to his detriment.
Hunter is in the wild now, and the only lessons to learn at this moment is to hunt, eat, and fuck. He continued thrusting his large manhood into her warm inviting body, and when he pulled out, he had satisfied himself, and she fell on her stomach, knowing that she had enticed Hunter to give her food when she needed it, and when she couldn’t hunt.
There was no cuddling with Soiree. There was no telling her that he was in love because she didn’t understand the concept of love. “That’s a man’s concept,” Bane had said to him when Hunter pleaded to be returned home because he didn’t want to leave Katie. “She is my mate and I love her,” he said to Bane. Only human females like Katie wanted to hear that they are loved.
“Werefemales in the wild will do their duty when werewolves are in need. They have their motives. Don’t be swayed by their affectionate natures. They will fornicate with any werewolf for food and shelter,” Hunter’s father had said to him.
Soiree knew his need and she thought it was her duty to satisfy his appetite for sex. And in return he would feed her when she was hungry and when she couldn’t hunt. That was the law of the wild. That was the law of these werewolves and that’s where Soiree belonged, to the wild, and to her pack. She would serve her pack in the best way she knew how.
For now, Hunter had to abide by that law. He is a stranger in her land. He had been born into wealth and privilege. Never had he slept in a cold cave on leaves. Hunter glanced around at the small space of the cave. His father’s cave was nothing like this, he thought. He glanced around staring at a sleeping and satisfied werefemale.
He would go with her back to her territorial cave for now, and hunt for her and feed her when necessary, and when he is stronger, and could determine where he is, he could try to get home.
Chapter 14
Hunter and Soiree woke and headed out of the cave, not before shifting back to their wolf form. To his surprise she was a beautiful grey wolf. Not as large as her human form. She stared at him because he was different. She never saw white wolves other than him. And she was mesmerized by his deep blue eyes. The wolves in her pack had brown or black eyes.
“We should hunt first before we go back to our village,” she said to Hunter.
“Why is that?”
“You don’t know anything about werewolves.”
“I know enough.” Soiree stopped and looked at him. “You’re not native to Alaska. You are one of those werewolves from someplace else. Are you a Russian wolf?”
“No. Of course not. Th
en where are you from? You are in the north.”
“Nevada.”
“Where is that?” Soiree says cocking her head to the side.
“You’ve never heard of the Samsa werewolves of Nevada?” Hunter stuck out his chest as if it mattered that he was a werewolf from a prominent pack. It mattered less to Soiree and it would hold no water with her wild pack.
“No. And I wouldn’t brag to anyone about it. They don’t like your kind in my pack.”
“What kind is that?”
“Spoiled pampered. What are you doing out here anyway? You look like you don’t belong.”
“I have as much right to be here as any of you. My father is the Alpha over all the Alphas.”
“So he’s like a king or something?”
“Sort of,” Hunter said then raising his nose in the air. “I smell a deer.”
“A caribou?”
“Yes. But we call them reindeers. You know the kind that pulls Santa’s sleigh.”
“Who is this Santa?”
“Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.” And she wouldn’t understand. Adrienne, Hunter’s mother had read him books about Santa Claus and when he was old enough to hunt, he came face to face with a reindeer when he was tracking it with his father. He begged Wilder not to kill it, but Wilder insisted that one day he could find himself hungry with no food and he will be compelled to kill it.
Today was that day. A day he thought would never come. But he found himself tracking the reindeer. It took all of a minute to surround the deer and for Hunter to bring it down. He had lightning speed and he knew how to disguise his scent. He had learned that from the greatest hunter of all his father Wilder.
Stripping the skin and fur from the meat, and the meat from the bone, Hunter looked around, Soiree was busy getting her fill of the fresh meat. He took the opportunity to hide some pieces deep in the snow, and then they both drug the remaining parts in the direction of her cave.
Insatiable: Hunter's Moon Book 5 Page 9