Pride's Run

by Cat Kalen

  As my pulse pounds at the base of my neck I swallow, completely unnerved by my reactions to him. There is no denying that he’s a beautiful wolf and an even more beautiful boy, which has me thinking of my own training.

  A pretty face and good grace go a long way for two trained killers like us. It makes leading a mark and gaining their confidence that much easier.

  Is it possible that this gorgeous alpha is using those skills on me? That he’s trying to lead me somewhere?

  Lure me?

  Trap me?

  I’m not sure, but as I drop to my knees and press myself into the rough timber, my gut tightens, warning me that it’s well past time I made a run for it.

  Too bad Logan has different ideas.

  Chapter Seven

  August 26th. Three days until full moon

  In no time at all the bright morning light warms my body and pulls me from my deep slumber. My muscles cramp and my joints rebel as I stretch out my fatigued limbs.

  As my body protests, my mind stirs and mixed memories of the long car ride, the PTF officers and the dangerous alpha wolf come rushing back in a roaring whoosh. My eyes fly open, my pulse quickens and my brain instantly kicks into high gear.

  I dart a glance around and that’s when I realize that I’m no longer outside, hunkered down beneath a cluster of towering oak trees, a safe distance from the boy who threatens me.

  Panicked, I sit upright and my head cracks on something hard and unforgiving. I cringe as my fingers rake through my mussed hair to feel the beginnings of an egg size lump. Disoriented by my lack of bearings, confusion floods me and I rapidly blink my mind into focus. I take in my rocky shelter and vehemently struggle to figure out where I am.

  My glance leaves the bumpy rock wall to trace my naked human body. I note the dry leaves covering my most private parts, as well as the weight of the strong arm curled protectively around my waist.

  But it’s who that arm belongs to that has a riot of emotions rocketing through me. A deep animal sound rises from my throat as understanding hits like a deadly bullet.

  Despite my vow to stay awake, it’s clear I drifted off, collapsing under the stress of the long, challenging day. And sometime through the night, when I was in my deepest slumber and unaware of Logan’s intentions, he relocated me. He brought my naked body into his protected shelter and used the dual heat of our bare flesh to keep the frostbite at bay.

  With his body pressed against mine, I squirm, uncomfortable with our closeness and the intimacy of his touch. As I take a moment to process this unexpected turn of events, I wonder why this dangerous alpha, who I’ve shown no kindness toward, would do such a thing.

  I don’t know whether to be grateful or angry but settle on angry because his gesture makes me feel vulnerable and exposed—things I never allow myself to feel. My heart thumps hard and as my hands go to my body to cover myself the sudden, urgent need to escape prompts me into action.

  With my eyes trained on him, I scan his powerful body, and much to my alarm it stirs something deep inside me.

  Something animalistic. Something primal.

  But as anger mingles with these unwanted feelings I no longer see a boy, I see the hot-blooded hound lurking beneath, one who should have known better than to touch me. Fury overwhelms me and I struggle to keep my control, struggle not to kill this alpha who threatens all my emotions.

  As my canines punch through my gums, I take a deep gulping breath and diligently force myself to calm down. Because when it comes right down to it, his gesture might have infuriated me— and confused my feelings—but he hasn’t done anything so horrible that it would warrant his death, has he?

  And contrary to what he might believe, we don’t need each other to survive in the wild. I’m an excellent tracker, and deep in my gut I know I’m quite capable of negotiating the forest and warding off danger without him. With that last thought in mind, I make my move.

  Still ensconced in his warm embrace, I try not to wake him as I carefully squirm out from beneath his tight hold. But he’s nuzzled so close and the cave is so small it’s hard to maneuver around his much larger frame.

  I take extra care not to rouse him as I adjust my small body. I slowly, silently begin to inch away, but after a quick scan I know the only way out of the tight cave is to climb over him.

  Logan makes a noise and his muscles flex and relax again as he shifts. I suck in a sharp breath and hold it until he settles.

  With his head tossed to the side, his chest begins to rise and fall in a rhythmic pattern, and I wait a bit longer, to make sure he falls back into a deep sleep. Once he’s stilled, I throw one leg over his hips, careful not to touch any other parts of his body.

  Leaves cover him from the waist down and as I shuffle over him his scent reaches out to me. It’s earthy and primitive and impossible to ignore. As I take in the hard lines of his profile as well as the muscles on his stomach, my wolf stirs, reacting to his animalistic scent and athletic body.

  It’s crazy how beautiful he is.

  Shocked at how easily my wolf is distracted by Logan, I admonish her and concentrate on my one and only purpose. Escape. I move with predatory precision and crab walk over him.

  Once I’ve cleared his body, I crawl from the cave, climb to my feet and sniff the early morning air for danger. As the scent of the forest comes to life after a long hard rain, a kaleidoscope of enticing aromas wash over me, everything from the moist, dewy earth, the indigenous foliage to the local wildlife that I can hear scampering about. It’s all so clean, so pure, so rejuvenating. The warm sunshine even smells fresh and invigorating. My wolf growls as she feeds off the aromas, never having felt so alive.

  A movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention and I spot a dark gray rabbit running through the underbrush. My stomach grumbles loudly. Soon I’ll have to hunt and feed my hunger. But first I need to run and put as much distance as possible between me and the alpha before he wakes.

  Just then a flock of noisy birds take to the sky overhead, their wings stirring the cool morning air as they search for food. I cringe and hope their high-pitched squeals haven’t disturbed Logan.

  Needing to flee, I scan the rough terrain and look for the route that will lead me to civilization. I know I can’t go back the way I came, which means I have to trek north, and make my way across the wide expanse of park. As I think about traveling north I’m once again reminded of Canada and the compassionate packs of wolves who allegedly roam free.

  Once I arrive at my destination, I’ll have to find shelter and strategize my next move. Right now, however, I need to concentrate on surviving in these woods and steering clear of those brutal men who are hunting me.

  I drop to the ground and moments before I’m about to shift and run, I spot a hiker’s backpack near the tree. I still, and scan the area. When my glance comes up empty my mind settles on one logical conclusion. Sometime throughout the night, either before or after he placed my naked body in his shelter, Logan went hunting.

  I steal a glance over my shoulder to ensure he’s still asleep, then shuffle along the snow packed ground toward the pack. Ignoring the icy crystals beneath me, freezing my naked flesh, I crouch low, sniff the bag, and then with the utmost care peel the zipper open. I peek inside and when I find a change of dry clothes, panic invades my stomach. I slowly back away, not liking the direction my mind is taking me. My nape begins to tingle and my wolf tenses.

  I have no idea who these supplies belong to or how Logan came upon them, but it does beg the question—did he kill someone in order to steal their provisions?

  Deciding I’m not about to hang around to find out the details I breathe deep and call on my wolf, but a fine shiver moves through me to think how easily Logan could have killed me while I slept.

  As my wolf emerges from my body, I bite my cheek to keep from crying out. Pain erupts inside me as my bones shift and my skin slides into place.

  A few moments later, with my transformation complete, I immediately
take to the woods, camouflaging myself in the thick timber. Legs pumping hard and a cool breeze ruffling my fur, I cut around the towering trees, distancing myself from the alpha dog as much as possible before he begins his day.

  Ribbons of early morning light filter in through the thick canopy of leaves covering the forest and I realize that night is long behind me. As sunlight glints on my fur, I lecture myself for my carelessness. Exhaustion isn’t an excuse for falling asleep and I know better than to run without the cover of darkness to veil me.

  As the forest comes to life around me, I push forward long and hard until I come to an ice-capped summit. I canter to the slippery edge and glance down at the valley below. My stomach rumbles, reminding me of my hunger, and my dry mouth thirsts for water as I take in the lake and the thin skim of ice sparkling like a cluster of diamonds. The sight reminds me of my mating dress and has me thinking of Stone.

  Now that I’m gone, Stone is the master’s next best tracker. I’m sure the master will send him out to hunt me. I shudder at the thought of seeing the smug alpha again, but my wolf growls at the chance to fight him.

  I recall Stone’s distinctive scent and keep it at the forefront of my brain, because I fully expect him to come looking for me, to try to drag me back to the compound to be his devoted mate.

  A shiver moves through me and I push that thought away. I turn my attention to the fog as it rises up from the valley floor. It clings to the treetops and obscures my view as I scan the rocky embankment and look for the best way down.

  As I canter along the edge, my joints groan like an injured animal but this time I realize it’s not from yesterday’s hard run. I glance upward in time to see the moon disappear from the sky. A shiver of unease pulses in my blood as I count down the days until it’s full.

  My jaw tightens as I feel the savage pull of nature. Dark. Dangerous. Inescapable. I might be on the run, hiding from both the PTF and my handlers but as baser instincts call out to me, I realize I might have a more urgent problem at hand.

  I know what my wolf can do. What she’s capable of. And if I don’t find a safe place to hide before the full moon I know what will happen to any unsuspecting backpackers hiking through the trails. I’m used to being locked up on shift night, the one and only night that I can’t control my wolf.

  Can’t control her hunger.

  I might kill for my master, but I don’t kill for sport. It frightens me to think in a few short days, under the power of the moon, my bloodlust will take over. When that happens no one in this park will be safe, because no one will be able to tame the beast inside. Not even me.

  With renewed purpose, I’m ever determined to find my way out of the forest, and seek shelter for my wolf. I take off down the side of the mountain, and keep my eyes open for both prey and predator. When I reach the valley below, I canter to the lake and stare at my bedraggled reflection as I take a generous sip of water.

  As the sun rises higher, the layer of ice melts and I can see fish below the surface. My stomach growls louder and I take a tentative step into the water. I’ve never gone fishing before, but my wolf is swift. A sparkled fish swims by and I reach for it, but it proves too fast for me. I keep trying, again and again, but as the minutes tick by, I realize this is much harder than it looks.

  Just as I’m about to give up and go find a rabbit, I hear twigs crunch behind me. I whirl around, fully expecting to find a hunter—or worse, Logan—but what I see instead has my lips pealing back to expose my canines.

  Good God, I’ve never come up against anything so big before.

  As my heart races in a mad cadence it suddenly occurs to me that I’ve only ever hunted humans. I’ve never gone up against an animal in the wild. I calm myself and try to remember everything I’ve ever learned about black bears.

  I let loose a warning howl, but it does little to alarm the animal or send it scurrying back into the woods. It continues to move toward me with purpose, its sharp claws sinking into the ground.

  When I snarl and spike my ruff the bear goes up on its back legs, its beefy front paws slashing the air. Its loud growl of distress lets me know I’ve invaded its hunting space, and it’s far from happy.

  I can smell its rage, its hunger and when I catch sight of a young cub coming out from behind a tree, I realize how much of a threat I pose to this mother bear, and how much trouble I’m really in.

  Growling low in my throat, I keep eye contact and try not to provoke her into action. I take a small cautious step into the water, to avoid a direct attack. The last thing I want to do is hurt her. After all, she’s merely a mother protecting her cub.

  When the bear keeps coming I know I have two choices, run or fight. Although with the river at my back it really narrows it down to one choice. I crouch low and prepare to pounce.

  I steady my breathing and when she closes the gap, I leap toward her, wanting to scare her, not kill her, but what I don’t account for is her swinging paw, or the strength and power behind it. She catches me across the ribs and sends me hurtling backward.

  I yelp as she delivers the bone crunching blow and land with a resounding thud a few feet away. As my head hits the ground, my sharp teeth gnash together and judging by the pain radiating down my neck I’m pretty sure I just blew my jaw out. Blood fills my mouth and my regenerative abilities kick in. My cracked bones begin to mend, and the pain ebbs as my jaw shifts and slides back into place.

  I need a few more seconds for the healing process to finish, but I know I don’t have them. I can hear her coming and can almost feel her hot breath slithering along my neck. Blinking fast I diligently try to settle my shaken brain, knowing I have to clear the daze before she reaches me.

  Pulse racing like mad, and self-preservation impulses surging inside me, I work to pull myself together. With my brain still wobbling, I try to climb to my shaky feet, to prepare a fearsome retaliation, but when a ferocious howl echoes off the mountains I almost sob with relief.

  Logan.

  I scent the air and catch a whiff of his fur long before I see him. I give an animal cry to let him know where I am and that I’m in danger.

  Moving like a true predator he jumps from a nearby ridge and positions his body between me and the bear. Angry fire lights his pewter eyes as he gives a quick glance over his shoulder to assess my damages.

  “You okay?”

  After I give a quick nod Logan turns his attention back to the bear, which is suddenly down on all fours and dashing toward us. Like a fierce hunter, Logan begins to circle, keeping a wide berth as he draws her away from me. As I watch him and take in his calculating gaze and powerful body I shiver, fully aware that he’s far more skilled than any wolf I’ve ever known.

  Once Logan has her away from the water, his wolf barks a warning to me, to run for cover, but I’m not about to flee and let him face the threat alone.

  Instead of running, I distract the bear by slapping the water. When she tosses her head and turns toward me, Logan uses that opportunity to go for her hind legs.

  The bear growls and swipes at him, but Logan proves too fast, too strong. Within seconds he’s airborne and with predatory accuracy he drives straight for the bear’s throat. Sharp canines clamp down on the animal’s neck and he quickly wrestles her to the ground. The animal drops and Logan’s jaw tightens in a death grip.

  Fierce and ferocious, he tosses his head, ripping into its flesh with primal hunger. The tangy scent of animal blood reaches my nostrils. As it spills from the bear’s throat and turns the thin skim of snow a striking shade of red, my wolf growls. The delicious scent stirs my hunger and urges me to join in the feast. I climb to my feet, but when I see the cub, it snaps me back to reality.

  “Logan. Stop,” I bark out.

  He looks at me, stunned, then slowly backs away from the writhing animal. The mother bear growls, climbs to her feet and dashes off with her baby. As she leaves a bright trail of crimson behind, I wince and pray that no permanent damage has been done.

  Dark splotch
es of blood stain Logan’s muzzle as he comes toward me. His shrewd eyes look over my body and I know what he’s going to say. I harden myself, prepare for the backlash, prepare to be humiliated for my overconfident attitude, because the truth is, out here in the wilderness I’m completely out of my element. Surviving by myself in this foreign territory is much harder than I anticipated.

  Silence hangs heavy as he watches me, then something in his expression changes. While his voice is light I can still see the strain in his eyes when he says, “What, you had to hunt the biggest thing in the forest?”

  I stare at him, and realize how close I was to getting us both killed. Logan might be a powerful alpha but he’s just a boy and doesn’t deserve to die because of me.

  Not at all sure how to react I do the one thing that comes natural to me. “Just so you know I had everything under control before you went all alpha on me,” I shoot back.

  Judging by the knowing look on his face, he isn’t buying my lie. His glance slides over me and he takes in my features until I begin to fidget under his watchful gaze.

  There is a note of softness in his voice when he breaks the quiet and says, “I know, Pride. I know.”

  I gulp air. What I expected from him was fury, but what I get instead is way more than I can handle right now. The combination of his softness and the aftershock of the bear attack have me trembling like a scared kitten. I begin to shake all over. The truth is I never felt so scared, so out of control.

  So completely and utterly out of my league.

  I work to push down the panic rising in my throat and go down on my haunches, needing a minute to regroup. I steal a glance at Logan and hope he can’t taste my fear as it hovers around us like a dark rain cloud.

  His eyes glint knowingly but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to comfort me. While I’m grateful for his distance, I really hate how well he can read me. I also hate that I spent my whole life building walls and with one simple look, one simple heroic act that happened to save my hide, this boy is able to puncture a hole in my armor.