by Tamar Sloan
Seeing that I’m actually doing what he’s asked me this time, he strides away. Pausing several times to scent the air, he heads to the right where the land dips down.
I try to scent the air myself, even though I know it’s pointless. All I smell is earthy soil with a hint of vegetation. Why couldn’t I have been born more Were than Fae?
Hunter pauses once more, but this time he fails to start again. Instead of tilting up his head to taste the breeze, now his head is scanning the terrain.
Then he stops. Stock still, he stares at the ground.
He’s yards away, but something has me freezing too. I could call out, but I don’t and I’m not sure why. I wait, figuring Hunter will move any second.
Except he doesn’t. He stands and stares at whatever he’s found.
Ava
Without realizing it, I’m running. Something about the slant of his shoulders, like they’ve drooped or caved in or something, injects me with speed.
Within moments I smell what Hunter must have. The scent of blood isn’t one I’ve experienced often seeing as I tend to avoid it. I don’t eat meat, I don’t visit Mom’s vet surgery very often, and I’m not around for any procedures on the wolves in the captivity program. But you only have to smell it once to know it. Then you instantly recognize it the second it hits your nostrils.
The wolves must’ve caught a bison or something because once I smell it, it’s strong. As much as that makes my stomach roil, at least it means we know where they are now. Maybe that’s why Hunter hasn’t moved.
When I’m only feet away, Hunter turns. His hands come up as if to stop me. “Ava, no!”
“Hunter—”
He takes swift steps forward. “You need to go back.”
There’s an urgency in his voice that I don’t understand. A half-eaten chunk of animal isn’t going to be pleasant, but I’m made of stronger stuff than that.
He meets me a few feet away from where he was standing, and when my momentum goes to take me past him, he reaches out and grabs me. The shock of his strong hands clasping my arms has me looking up at him in confusion. Since the moment we met, Hunter has avoided physical contact whenever possible.
“I’m not some weak half-human, Hunter.”
Except his gaze isn’t frustrated or frowning. “This isn’t about that.”
Not understanding what I see in his eyes I tear away, but he’s fast, and his hands are back on my upper arms. “You don’t want to see this.”
But it’s too late. The smell of blood is overpowering now, and my eyes seem to follow the scent to its origin. Animal bodies, several of them, are lying in the bog. They’re half-submerged in black water, limbs taut with rigor mortis, their faces open in silent scream.
I bury my face in Hunter’s chest, but the image has already seared into my brain. “Oh, god.” Even with eyes held tightly shut, I can see what’s there.
Hunter’s arms clamp around me, anchoring me to him. My hands come up to tangle in his shirt, holding on tight. “They were…”
I can’t finish the sentence. I didn’t realize what they were straight away because they weren’t white. The things lying in the ditch were hues of red.
They were shades of blood.
My whole body tightens with revolt as my brain figures it out and I feel Hunter’s arms tighten. “I know.”
They were wolves, but they were wolves who’ve been skinned.
I bury in deeper, needing the warmth and comfort that Hunter’s offering. I feel his head tip down to mine as he curls even tighter around me. Anguish erupts in my chest, too much for me to know what to do with.
Oh, god. These were Hunter’s wolves. He would be feeling this pain far more acutely that I am. I reach up to brush his cheek. “Are you okay?”
He blinks, then blinks again. “I…ah…”
It seems Hunter isn’t used to being cared for. I cup his face, feeling bold seeing as he hasn’t pushed my hand away. My heart is ricocheting in my chest. “You’ve protected these wolves for a long time.”
His heart must be aching far more than mine.
“Ava.”
He says my name in a way he never has before. He says it like it’s a safe haven yet a source of torment, full of unrestrained emotion but riddled with the struggle for control. His copper eyes seem to brighten and deepen at the same time. It’s a mesmerizing process that pulls me in.
His hand comes up, brushing a stray hair from my face. Heat tingles across my skin, following his touch like the tail of a comet. When his gaze flickers down to my lips my breath ceases to exist.
He pauses, and his eyes seem to be asking a question. All I know is my heart is hammering yes, yes, yes. I want this. I want Hunter.
I lean in, glorying in the sensation of all of me pressing against all of him.
This time when he blinks it’s like windscreen wipers have just cleared the fog from his eyes. His breath pulls in with a stab and his hand drops. Before I can find my bearings, he’s stepped back.
I have to lock every muscle to stop me from crumpling, or worse, following his heat like some lost puppy. The cool air douses me like a bucket of ice water.
Hunter clears his throat. “We need to get out of here.”
Wrapping my arms around myself, I make sure I don’t look down. “Do you think we’re in danger?”
He shakes his head. “I doubt it. Whoever did this is long gone.”
I shudder. Along with the pelts of these poor wolves.
Oh no, the wolves!
I step toward Hunter, but then stop. Neither of us up for a repeat of whatever just happened. “What about the others?”
Hunter swallows, his gaze moving to the horizon, looking like he’s holding onto it with all his strength. “There were five wolves there. There are no others.”
My throat constricts. My chest fills with pain.
Those bloody bodies were the last of the northern wolves? That means that Sakari and her pack…
“Hunter…”
He crosses his arms. “We need to get back.”
I nod. Hunter’s walls are back up and now isn’t the time to chip away at them. He’s hurting at the loss we’ve just been dealt and arguing from me is the last thing he needs.
Without looking back, trying not to smell the crimson in the air, I start walking. Falling into step beside me, we trudge back to the quad. Silence is the song that captures the loss of the lives we leave behind in the tundra. It’s fitting, because there really aren’t any words.
Keeping my movements quicker than Riley and her hug, so fast that Josh would be surprised, I grasp Hunter’s hand, squeeze, then release it. There aren’t any words, but I let him know he’s not alone.
Without glancing at him to see what he thought of that, I climb onto the quad. Hunter takes his place at the front without speaking.
When he starts the engine, the roar feels sacrilegious somehow. Five animals lost their lives, their threads cut and disconnected, their naked bodies exposed and defenseless.
I don’t realize my forehead has dropped to Hunter’s back until I feel his muscles flex. I hold there, not wanting to move, but waiting for the tension that will tell me I have to.
I feel him pull in a deep breath. “Thanks, Ava.”
I draw in my own breath, one full of the heat and essence of Hunter. What do I say to that? You’re welcome? Anytime? My heart is thumping one word, a word that is confusing, inexplicable, but undeniable.
Always.
Instead I let out the air I’d been holding. “Sure.”
Accelerating, we leave the place where these animals will never roam again.
This tundra no longer has wolves in its ecosystem. It feels like a hollow, horrible, cavernous hole has just been torn open.
As I hunker behind the wall of muscle that protects me from the cold wind, I try to push away the horrible images I just saw. It’s a long trip home and we’re going to have to tell the others what’s happened. There will be enough time to rehash everyth
ing we just saw.
Instead, I focus on the body I’m holding. Muscle contracting with each bump, dark hair ruffled by the breeze, his heady scent a mantle around me. I close my eyes, the memory of the moment we just shared holds just as much emotion.
Yes, Hunter pulled away.
But he also held me and comforted me and found it darned hard to let go.
What’s more, for the briefest of moments, I comforted him.
It seems there’s some hope in this time of blood and uncertainty.
Hunter
12 MONTHS BEFORE
“They’re growing fast.”
Dawn’s voice is full of pride as she watches the pups leap and tumble over each other like they’ve been thrown in a dryer.
“I think KJ has been feeding them growth hormones or something.”
Dawn chuckles. “We both know you’re the one who keeps slipping them the little extras.”
I figure I’m better off not answering that seeing as it’s true.
Not far away, Sakari lies in the sun, probably enjoying the break from her rough-housing brood. Zephyr has taken himself to the opposite side of the enclosure, reminding me of my dad. Deeply traditional, he’d let Mom deal with Riley and me squabbling over the last pizza slice or trying to see who can do the most tumbles across the sofa. At the same time, Zephyr’s gaze, just like Dad’s, stays sharp and ready. No one will get past him to his pack.
It turns out Riley’s prediction was right. Against the odds, four pups were born, meaning Dawn pointed out exactly how successful captive breeding is. All the pups have Inuit names, each capturing their unique personalities. Desna, the firstborn, means boss, and he certainly likes to act like the CEO of the enclosure. Then there’s Miki, or little, which captures his height, but is the exact opposite to the size of his appetite, and Kayuh, which means mountain. The last is a female, small, sprightly, and aptly named Pakak—one who gets into everything.
Dawn makes some notes on her clipboard. “And they’re strong and healthy.”
I nod, wondering when the band of tension around my chest will loosen. These pups have been textbook captive breeding participants. Sakari’s birth, which we all watched on the screens was quick and complication-free.
Riley, my tough, smart-aleck sister had rested her head on my shoulder, her eyes moist. “They’re our future, Hunter.”
I’d stayed at Resolve for the days after. Sometimes inside, watching the screens with the same focus Mom gives The Bachelor, but mostly patrolling the enclosure. I was going to do everything I could to make sure this litter survived. If it meant even less sleep than before, then it meant I just needed to drink more coffee.
And survive they did. Growing into the tumble of white that’s romping around. Soon they’ll tire and curl into their mother for their next nap.
But despite the good news that’s growing day after day in the form of four wolf pups, the tension won’t abate. I’m probably going to give myself a heart-attack before I turn seventeen, but I can’t get it to budge. It’s like someone welded this belt of fear around my chest with no intention of taking it off again. Maybe it’s my penance for losing the last litter.
I’ve wished I could show golden wolf these bundles that hold the future of arctic wolves more times than KJ has said the words ‘genetic diversity’. Our time spent out on the plains continues to be magical, my thread of hope. But I can’t shift so close to Resolve, mostly because it’s too close to humans, but also because then she’d appear. I’m not ready to find out whether her gossamer colors would appear on the screens.
If she does, then she’s no longer just mine and there are a heck of a lot of questions to be answered. How can a golden wolf even exist? Where is she from? What does any of it mean? And I don’t know the answers to any of them.
If she’s not…then I lose something very precious—my ability to believe in a future I want to be part of.
With so much hanging on it, I don’t care if it makes me crazy because I’m the only one who sees her. I’m happy to never put it to the test.
We’re about to head inside to get their evening meal ready when the sound of a car has me turning toward the parking lot. Dawn straightens and focuses when she hears it a few moments later. We’re all here—Dawn, Riley, KJ and me—and as far as I know, we weren’t expecting anyone. Looking at Dawn confirms that suspicion. Arms crossed, lips tight, she’s on the defensive as much as I am.
Walking over I go on even higher alert when I recognize the car. It jerks to a halt and Alistair climbs out, the wind catching his sparse blond hair. Dawn and I glance at each other and I don’t know whether I should frown or roll my eyes. What does this douche bag want?
We meet him beside his car, intercepting him before he gets too close to Resolve. Crossing my arms, I look him up and down. “No cameras this time?”
Red flushes across Alistair’s cheeks. “I hear you’ve managed to breed more of these killers.”
I clench down on my retort. Giving Alistair any information is just going to feed his obsession.
Dawn stands beside me, a barrier between Alistair and the building behind us. “Is that why you didn’t bring the cameras? Cute wolf puppies aren’t going to help your cause, are they?”
Alistair’s watery eyes flash with victory. “So, the rumors were right.”
Dammit. Not information I wanted Alistair to have.
Dawn shakes her head, her face soft and relaxed like she’s talking to a child. “We have nothing to hide here, Alistair. These wolves are as important to this earth as we are.”
Alistair’s hand slices through the air. “Don’t give me that new-age hippie rubbish. These animals need to be exterminated like…like smallpox! They pose too great a threat.”
He’s likening wolves to a deadly disease? Anger peaks through my body. “You need to leave, Alistair.”
He looks at me, derision curling his lip. “You can try to use your size and strength to intimidate me. It’s exactly what they,” his finger points to the enclosures behind us, “would do.”
Images of me shifting to a wolf to show him exactly what he’s up against flash through my mind. This guy who hides behind cameras and hyped-up hate would crumple to his knees. There’s a reason wolves are at the top of the food chain.
Dawn steps forward, her Fae senses probably picking up my anger. “If you’re here to discover exactly how little you know, Alistair, then I welcome you. Otherwise, I’m going to ask you to leave.”
A door opens behind us and Alistair glances over my shoulder. I scent what just caught his attention—Riley and KJ have joined us. I can practically feel Riley’s furious gaze trying to impale Alistair.
I cock my head to the side. “I’d get going if I were you.”
Alistair’s eyes narrow, probably weighing up his options. Leave and lose face? Or stay and face the four guards of this program.
He didn’t think quickly enough, because Riley is already by my side. She doesn’t stop there but keeps striding forward. Alistair’s eyes widen as she closes in on him. “If you’re looking for a fight, Alistair…”
Showing that he’s not completely stupid, Alistair takes a step back. “You guys don’t intimidate me.” Holding his ground, he tilts his chin. “What I stand for is too important.”
Riley’s arms explode out. “Killing? Death? The taking of lives because you can?”
I’m beside my sister in a second, knowing what’s fueling her anger. The murder of your father isn’t something that you ever come to accept, which means the pain can never ebb or diminish. Anger is a natural outlet.
Alistair must figure he’s got a chance against the girl striding towards him because he doesn’t move. “The protection of those we love will always come first.”
My arm shoots out, grabbing my sister before she detonates again. This time there will be no containing the explosion. She tries to shake me free, but I don’t let go. Keeping my voice low, I don’t take my eyes off Alistair. “He’s a douche-bag. We�
�re better than this.”
Riley pauses, energy pulsing through her body. She stares at him. “He stands for everything we’re fighting.”
“Yep. And he’s here because we’re winning.”
My words diffuse some of Riley’s anger, which is what I was hoping for. Not enough for the waves of hatred to stop being generated, but enough for me to know that she’s not going to do something stupid.
Riley shakes off my hand again, and this time I let it drop. Her gaze never leaves Alistair as she replies. “He better not come around here again.”
There’s so much venom in Riley’s voice that Alistair steps back again. Spine looking like someone jammed a javelin down it, he spins and takes the few steps to his car. He opens the door and stops, holding it like a shield. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You people are as dangerous and violent as they are.”
The four of us stand where we are, no one responding. Alistair stands there for a few more moments, waiting for us to prove him right. When nothing but the breeze shifts, he climbs in and slams the door. If this wasn’t such a tense situation, I’d smile. Our silence and inaction was far more humiliating for him that all our words put together.
With a petty spray of gravel, Alistair drives off. He glances in the rear vision mirror and I catch his gaze. His icy glare is full of warning, telling me we didn’t win anything today. As long as humans like Alistair hate, then we have a war on our hands.
Dawn lets out a breath. “I don’t think he’ll ever give up.”
Riley spins on her heel, jaw working. I don’t step forward, I don’t touch her even though my chest feels like it’s splitting. Riley wouldn’t want that right now. She’s barely holding it together as it is.
Instead I hold her gaze, letting her know she’s not alone in her pain or anger. These are two emotions we will always carry.
Hands clenching and unclenching, she bites her lip. And then she’s striding away, heading toward the enclosures. I watch her leave, getting that she needs some time alone. Sometimes sharing space with the wolves is the only thing that will heal your soul.