“Oh my, yes!” Alanna glowed, her dark hair swishing as she turned her head this way and that, taking stock of Beth. “I do believe we can work something out. And in fact,” she went on conspiratorially. “There’s usually a dance performed at every Moon Feast.”
“Great,” Beth replied, a genuine smile playing upon her lips. “Let’s pray to the Great Mother you can do something with my ungainly limbs by then.”
Alanna laughed, her sleek, dark eyebrows rising towards her hairline. “I’m sure you’re grace personified, Beth.”
“Not hardly,” she snorted.
Mickey, she noted had moved off toward the men at the other end of the table. He was a nice guy, she mused. He’d stayed just long enough to make sure she was comfortable and then left her to it. She had no doubt that had she been the slightest bit self-conscious, he’d have stuck to her side, entertaining her with his rapier wit. Maybe she could have a word with September...
~~~~
The boar was delicious. Juices dripping down her fingers, making her grip on the meat precarious, she tore another strip of meat from the bone and groaned in delight. “Mmm. This is fabulous.”
She had learned that while the adults went out to hunt for meat, the children hunted for the perfect combination of herbs to add succulence and addictive qualities to the meat brought back for cooking. “It’s almost better cooked. Almost,” Mickey called from his perch at the other end of the long, pine table. “You can’t beat the taste of fresh meat, though,” he went on, stretching his long legs out and fixing her with his owl stare. “The adrenaline and the fear. The hot rush of that first taste of its life flooding your veins.”
September, she noted, who had joined them shortly before the boar was ready, flinched and closed her eyes. “I agree,” Beth replied loudly. “We were born and bred to hunt.”
“Not all of us,” September mumbled, softly enough that Beth was sure she was the only one who caught the words.
Beth’s mind whirled. She understood the girl’s fear of what she had become, but to deny her instincts was folly. Surely she could see that. “Actually,” Beth cleared her throat, making a snap decision. “I haven’t hunted in too long.” Not since the night she fell into that trap and... She viciously cut that line of thought. “I would love to accompany the hunting party this evening.”
September jumped as Beth took hold of her hand under the table and gave it a warning squeeze. “How about it?” she glanced at her. “Will you join me, September?”
The girl honestly appeared to weigh the merits of declining, before seeming to realize that Beth was far above her station and therefore a request was as good as an order. Beth felt bad about it, but there was nothing for it. The girl had to learn to stop fearing herself, even if she would never truly love what she was.
“Um, yes,” September whispered. “But the Alpha...dinner...”
“Don’t worry your head about that,” Alanna, on Beth’s other side, leaned in and smiled. “I’ll send one of the girls to tend the Alpha’s kitchen while you’re gone.”
“Thanks,” the girl frowned, looking anything but thankful, fidgeting with the ends of her fiery hair in a self-conscious fashion.
“Wonderful!” Beth announced.
Finishing the sublime portion of roast boar, Beth sucked her fingers clean and confirmed the time of the hunt. Sundown, as in her old pack. She would have time to run, time to hunt, and perhaps time to show September that her life was not over, merely different now. Better, in fact. Who would want to be human? Who would want to die of diseases that the wolf could shake off like a head cold? Or not know the immense pleasure of having another form, another shape, the freedom of the run, and the structure of the pack, providing protection and family, always?
Beth would rather die than be human. The only human aspect she could wish for, was the freedom to be with whomever she wished. But that was pack life, and pack law, and who was she to challenge it, no matter how she wanted to?
After the hunt tonight, she would break her Bond with Gareth – her chest tightened at the thought of him, and she sighed heavily – and hope no lasting damage had been done by her madness by the creek. Her place was here now, and if she had doubted that until now, the firm resolution flowing through her mind settled it. She trusted it.
No matter the hurt, no matter the pain even thinking of letting him go brought her, it was the only course of action remaining to her. Rather Donovan than his brutish father. She knew he had been serious in his threats.
She still had plenty of time before sundown, and remembered the healer’s promise of teaching her Herb Lore. “September, do you think you could point me in the direction of Shale?”
The girl bobbed her head up and down, crimson locks falling onto her elfin face. “Sure, I can. He should be in the clearing with the children.” She rose, barely containing her eagerness to be out of the Common House, away from Mickey’s burning gaze. Beth noticed he had been surreptitiously studying the girl for some time. Didn’t he know softly, softly catchy monkey? Beth’s lips twisted into a smirk as she tipped her head in his direction, nodding her thanks and bidding everyone a goodbye. To a chorus of well wishes and smiles, Beth followed September from the Common House’s stifling heat, into the fresh air of the crisp Autumn day.
The Common House was near the south edge of the village, and she noted the homes and buildings they passed on their journey.
All the dwellings appeared to be in good repair and well presented, although Beth still disliked the uniform design, and wondered if her home would be just another replica. The path they trod on was nothing more than a dirt track dusted with bark chippings and loose gravel and their footfalls made hardly a sound as September hustled them past other pack members who stopped to stare at their future Alpha female as she was lead toward the well-traveled paths at the edge of the village.
Beth noticed a hulking figure lifting giant sheets of fabric from a vat full of blue dye. He gave her a wizened grin, and a hearty wave, dropping one side of the sheet, which instantly plopped back into the container, splashing a few droplets across his jolly cheeks and red nose. She waved back jovially and grinned at his rueful expression when he immediately wiped a hand across his face to catch the droplets, forgetting the dye on his fingers. He was left looking like a cross between a soldier and a smurf.
She couldn’t help but laugh softly as September led her down a dry track between two great oaks. “So you decided to join us, Beth?” Shale inquired upon seeing the pair emerge into a small clearing full of children and a couple of old she-wolves. “I sure did,” she replied, smiling.
They had quite the herb garden growing here, she noticed. There were herbs she’d never seen before, along with the very few she did recognize. Patches of bloodroot, the small white flowers long since faded, were being tended by children as young as three summers, in preparation for next season’s harvest. There was wild ginger, wild mint, and chamomile growing next to feverfew and chickweed. And, she noted, valerian root with its small, fern-like fronds. That was one herb she was already well acquainted with.
“Thank you,” Beth nodded to September, and the girl took off after a brief hesitation. Beth knew September had wanted to plead her case regarding tonight’s hunt, but Beth would not be moved. Perhaps there was a future for her as an Alpha after all.
“Welcome, Beth,” Shale approached her, a wide smile on his thin lips, and a warmth in his amber eyes that she instantly approved of. He was a huge man; Beth had to crane her neck to look into his face, and she supposed he was quite intimidating but she’d had a constant string of Guardians trailing her like daemons for so long that his size didn’t daunt her one bit. “Thank you,” she replied, taking the hand he offered in greeting.
“Let me introduce my aids, Loretta and Kadleen.”
“Very pleased to meet you both,” Beth nodded a greeting to them both, and obeyed the healer’s gesture to move forward.
“I’m Kadleen,” the smaller of the two said,
a smile creasing her wide mouth and merriment twinkling in her silver eyes. “This is Loretta, my sister. She doesn’t speak,” Kadleen explained. “Couldn’t resist one last shimmer, and lost her voice box on the way back.”
Beth had heard of such anomalies taking place during a wolf’s last years of the shimmer. She supposed losing a voice box was much preferable to losing say, her human nose, or her hands, which had happened, to hear some of the elders speak.
Beth shook the hands of both with pleasure and glanced around at the children who were all staring at her in awe. She supposed they had heard of her, and expected another dominant wolf to be just as overbearing as their Alpha. She would work hard to prove herself otherwise.
“Hello there,” she said, eyes sweeping the entire gathering of children. Their ages ranged from three years to fifteen years, and some of them had more wariness than others. A little boy of what Beth guessed to be five tugged on her jeans with his grubby hands. When she looked down, one of the older girls whipped his hands away from her with a scalding reprimand not to touch her.
“Showwy,” he mumbled around the grimy thumb he’d immediately popped into his mouth. “I jush wanshed sho know if she wash here to learn like ush.” A big, fat and glistening tear rolled down his face as he considered the angry face of the girl who had scolded him.
“Hey,” she whispered, leaning down on her haunches so she could get as close to eye level as she could with the little guy. “You probably know more than I do,” she assured him in a sing-song voice. “You could probably teach me!”
Laughing, he pulled his thumb from his mouth and glared at the girl who was now sitting back on her heels, frowning in confusion. “I could,” he replied, eyes shining. “I really could!”
As Beth turned back towards Shale, she was sure she could see him out of the corner of her eye, sticking his tongue out at the now silent young girl. She scarcely held in her laugh. Shale’s eyes were so full of approval, and genuine amusement that she smiled, and put on the brave face, even though her stomach was twisting and churning from the events of the morning, and the events yet to come. “So,” she asked him in a teasing voice. “Which herb should I pick if I want to make my dinner tastier tomorrow?”
“Well Lovage Seed is wonderful on venison, while Cardamom or Coriander is best with pork...”
Beth forced herself to listen to all the different herbs and spices she could use on her meat, determined that before the month was up she would not only know how to cook them, she would also know how to flavor them correctly. She was soon to be a Den Mother in her own right, although it could take some time for her to be with cubs, she needed to know this stuff.
For an hour or more, Beth got down and dirty in the soft soil with the others, diligently weeding and mulching ready for the winter that in these territories could literally arrive over night. The children hummed low to Shale’s slow, deep chanting, imploring the Great Mother for her help in making the earth fertile and rich. Beth swayed as the tune took over her body and soothed her worries.
There was not much talk going on, a fact Beth was heartily glad of. Expecting a lecture that droned on and on about this herb and that, today’s task was instead to prepare the earth and protect the plants, which really didn’t need much instruction. Beth’s fingers sifted through the velvety earth, rooting out the weeds that even Shale couldn’t hold at bay. This was a wild world, and the wild wanted to reclaim it.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” a soft whisper caressed her ear, and a gentle hand cupped her elbow. “I’ve been looking for you, my mate.”
“Donovan,” Beth replied, almost hypnotized by the melodious chanting, her eyes half-mast and hazy.
“Come with me,” he whispered, lifting her to her feet. “I’m sure Shale won’t mind if I monopolize my mate for a while.”
Shale nodded once, slowly. “You just make sure my newest pupil is back here first thing in the morning for her first lesson.”
“I’ll do that, Healer,” he promised earnestly, leading Beth away from the little gathering, deeper into the wood.
“Where are we going?” Beth asked excitedly, thankful that he’d had regained his characteristic good humor.
Donovan moved his arm to settle about her shoulders in a proprietary fashion, and Beth tried not to bump hips with him as they both found a comfortable rhythm to walk in. “Oh, I was thinking we could explore a little,” he informed her, eyes smiling. “A little bird told me you’re joining the hunt this evening and I thought you’d like to walk the trails with me beforehand.”
“I’d love that,” she exclaimed, tightening her grip on his waist.
Shoving the thought of Gareth to the back of her mind, she wiggled her fingers beneath the light cotton of Donovan's shirt, to stroke the heated skin above his jeans waistband.
He looked at her quickly, heat in his golden stare, and Beth offered him a small smile. She knew he was reluctant to take any invitation she offered him, in the event that it was snatched back like it had been before. Shaking her head slightly at the question in his eyes, she came to a halt and wrapped her other arm around his neck, swinging around in front of him. The kiss was soft and undemanding, their lips brushing slowly against each other, tongues stroking unhurriedly.
“Beth,” he croaked, wrapping his vast arms around her waist, dragging her closer, his breath hot on her cheek. “The things you do to me, my mate.”
“Are you going to join us on the hunt, Donovan?” Beth was a little breathless herself; that was the first kiss on the road to a Bond, she knew, and it was hard not to feel nervous and frightened, while at the same time feeling guilty for the enjoyment she took from one of Donovan's devastating kisses. Silently willing her mind to prevent all thoughts of the state she would be in by now if it was her other mate who she had been kissing, she glanced into his bright eyes.
“Would you like me to?” he asked.
She sighed. Why must everything be about her? Why couldn’t he simply say that he didn’t want to, or that he did, or that he would see how the mood struck him? Why was it her decision? “I don’t mind,” she offered. Make up your own mind, she silently begged of him. She didn’t want him to be but a puppet, acting out her wishes.
“I have a lot of work to do,” he confessed. “Although the thought of a run with you is too tempting by half.” He grinned down at her and loosened his hold. “I do believe I’ll try my best to join you,” he told her, long legs carrying him through the wood.
She followed, memorizing as best she could the trails and the clearings. There were copses of softwood competing for survival in amongst the giant hardwoods like the majestic oak and the greenest ginkgo trees. The softwood conifers rising like giant stalagmites yearning for the sun always made Beth feel dizzy and insignificant. The thought that these trees were seeded here before even her village elders were born served to remind her that life goes on, whether she wanted it to or not.
“Donovan?” she queried, pointing to a small hare scampering across the trail ahead of them.
He grinned, releasing the clasp of his belt with one hand while pulling his shirt over his head with the other. Beth stepped out of her trainers, sliding her jeans over her hips, she let them fall to pool around her ankles while pulling her own shirt off.
Before Donovan had stepped out of his own footwear, Beth stood before him panting in her wolf-form. With a wry twist to his lips, he swung his head to keep track of their prey. You snooze, you lose, Beth thought, taking after the wild hare. White fur flashed as the hare tried to out pace her, his long paws thumping the ground like a heartbeat. Beth stalked it easily, herding it out into the clearing to the right. If it reached the small copses and shrubs they’d never find it again.
As she directed the animal, she flicked a glance back and found Donovan hard on her heels. He was swift and sleek, dark as coal and powerful as a bear. She could well imagine him leading the hunt, tracking the prey and taking it down in one almighty lunge.
He lo
ped around to flank the hare, sending it scurrying back toward Beth. It had no choice, its instincts told it that the smaller wolf was the lesser threat, so it took the only choice available. Ahead of it was a stream and behind it to either side were the wolves. It tried to cut across Beth, darting its hind legs out of reach of her swiping paw. Beth growled in frustration and leaped, landing upon the frightened animal in victory.
There she pinned it with an outstretched paw, easily holding it no matter how it wriggled and writhed. Donovan sauntered to her side, sparing the struggling hare barely a glance before snapping at Beth’s foreleg, willing her to release her prey. She did, slowly watching it beat feet towards the small grove to her left.
Earning a reprieve, the hare disappeared into the dense undergrowth while Beth began to trot back towards her discarded pile of clothes. Donovan was right – she would hunt in truth this evening – there was no need to kill the hare. She remembered him explaining the method of conservation. There would be no hunting for fun on Tall Grass lands. Her human half recognized and even commended that, but her wolf wanted to bite into the soft underbelly of the hare, ripping intestines and flesh free. Unsatisfied, she growled softly in warning as Donovan nipped at her flanks.
She was in no mood to play. She’d wanted the taste of the kill. The thrill of the chase was nothing without the satisfaction of completion. This was just one more thing she had to get used to. Before her mate could realize the mood she was in, she flashed him a quick wolf-grin, baring her teeth and growling softly. Something to be said for no pack ties, she thought. He can’t read my mind.
“It’s not very practical to show you around the trails in wolf-form,” he announced as soon as he’d shimmered back into human-form, crouched down on his powerful thighs. He really was a fine specimen, and Beth appreciated the view.
Whining, she shimmered back herself, reluctantly shaking off her wolf-form to assume her two-legged stance. She lost track of the time as they wandered through the wood, trees standing tall and proud, vague bubbling sounds indicating a stream in the vicinity. There certainly were plenty of signs of wildlife, she mused. Tracks here, there and everywhere. It shouldn’t be too hard to find something delicious in this forest.
Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance Page 174