With Her Capture

by Lorie O'Clare

  Ayden gulped in a breath, watching until his littermate and Georgie had chased the leopards out of sight and smell. He was surprised to still smell the female. They’d covered a good amount of land before he decided to turn back, which meant one thing. She’d followed them when they’d taken off after the leopards. This time Ayden didn’t need to push his senses to locate her.

  He turned, looking up the incline and taking in the female who stood frozen, very aware she’d been discovered. She’d obviously run after them and now stood not too far back up the mountain.

  There was no one else anywhere nearby. Even Anthony and Georgie’s scent disappeared when a new breeze blew in around him and the female. It was the only reason Ayden remained standing where he was, allowing him a moment to take in the beautiful creature staring back at him. Because he knew what she was.

  This female was a Malta werewolf.

  It dawned on him that the leopards had actually been trying to do the Cariboo lunewulf a favor. They probably had no desire to run as far into Cariboo territory as they had, but felt honor bound to do so. It was law among all breeds of werewolves and agreed upon by all species on the planet that any Malta werewolf was to be killed on sight.

  The breed had been genetically altered by some insane pack leader when the breed had lived on the island of Malta. He’d never bothered to sniff out all the howlings about Malta werewolves, nor was he even sure exactly where Malta was. He knew about as much as anyone. The general consensus was that they were dangerous, unstable, and he’d thought until a moment ago, pretty much extinct.

  This enticing beauty, with her silky long, satiny-black coat, and a slender, yet incredibly fine-tuned body, damn near had Ayden forgetting how to breathe. For someone despised by all species on earth, the female held herself with regal dignity, with an air of elegance about her that made his dick harder than when he’d initially sniffed her out.

  Ayden stared into her erotic looking, almond-shaped eyes. He knew he was imagining things but swore he saw pain there. He guessed she might be a tortured soul if her kind was supposed to be extinct. She held her head high and didn’t move. The breeze caused her coat to ripple like water in the middle of night. He’d sniffed out some incredibly hot females in his time, but none compared to the bitch staring back at him right now.

  She stood taller than a lunewulf bitch but didn’t have the same muscle tone a Cariboo bitch normally had. He wouldn’t call her skinny, but she was thin. There was no telling how long she’d been on the run, or for how long she’d remained in her fur. Again he was sure he imagined it when it seemed she wavered, as if exhaustion settled in and prevented her from running any further.

  The sudden sound of barking and paws bounding through the snow startled both of them. The Malta bitch noticeably jumped and shot her attention down the mountain. Ayden looked over his shoulder. Anthony and Georgie were returning and they weren’t being quiet about it. They were leaping through the snow and barking as if they were actually capable of carrying on a conversation in their fur.

  His littermate and cousin sometimes had terrible timing. Ayden knew the law as well as any werewolf. When it came to Malta werewolves there were no gray areas. They would have to kill the female. Ayden didn’t know the exact reasoning behind the law but had heard it howled that the breed had the ability to make things move without touching them. Staring at this erotic creature made it all seem a bit too farfetched to smell right.

  The moment Anthony and Georgie saw the female though, none of them would have a choice. They too would understand why leopards had run into their territory. All three of them would be required by law to kill her.

  Ayden returned his attention to the Malta bitch. He wasn’t given the opportunity to decide how best to handle this situation. He stared where she’d been standing. The female was gone.

  Chapter Two

  Magda Keller stretched out in the room-sized cave she’d found. The cold stone floor was therapeutic against her fur. During the late hours the night before she’d blocked the entrance with tree trunks she’d uprooted. She’d pulled large boulders from the frozen ground using her gift and used them to hide the cave entrance as well. Using her mind to do so much physical labor had worn her out as it always did when she focused on moving large objects. But her efforts had been worth it. For now, she felt safe. And she’d gotten much needed sleep.

  If her sire had only known how teaching her the gift that the Malta werewolf were despised for having had saved her life more than once, he might have taken time to fine-tune the lessons. Maybe he had known that she would end up running for her life. Possibly he had meant to take more time with his instructions, but he hadn’t lived long enough to do so.

  Magda uncurled from her slumber and rolled to her belly. It grumbled with demands for food. Waking up with thoughts of her sire wasn’t the best way to start her day. Nothing changed the past. Her current problems lay in the present.

  The Cariboo lunewulf pack was too close for her to enjoy a good run and some hunting. After racing nearly to the top of the mountain before escaping the leopards, she’d thought her exhaustion would do her in before the three Cariboo males did. It had been a stroke of luck escaping them.

  It was luck she didn’t plan on pushing. She hadn’t chanced trying to leave the safety of her cave until almost dawn. Then it was to do some quick fishing and return to this cold, damp solitude and enjoy her meal.

  That had been almost twelve hours ago. Her tummy growled again. Risking a run on the mountain until she tracked down enough food to sustain her might very well mean risking her life. They would hunt her. Magda was stuck in this damn cave until the Cariboo were convinced she was long gone off their mountain. Then somehow she would have to do just that. In the meantime, she would capture fish out of the rushing mountain water not too far away. If she made it off this mountain alive she might never want trout again.

  It sucked that it had come to this. A week before, she and her littermate, Liesa, thought they’d be able to take a human bus down into the states to a Malta werewolf pack in Colorado. It had been their only hope for survival. And it had smelled so promising. Neither one of them sensed a problem with the plan. But with every turn they had been sniffed out.

  Right before she and Liesa separated they had been in Banff. They’d made it to the bus station where they’d planned on buying tickets. A couple lunewulf bitches had howled to their mates that they were pretty sure there were two Malta werewolf females in a public bathroom. The two of them had barely made it out alive. Magda snarled at Liesa until she ran the direction opposite the tattling bitches. Magda knew in her heart it had saved her littermate’s life. She had to believe that Liesa and Katrin, her youngest littermate, were safe. It allowed Magda to fight for another day.

  Fortunately, she wasn’t able to cry in her fur. She wouldn’t risk any more tears over the loss of her litter. Liesa and Katrin were alive and well. They had to be. Magda’s life wouldn’t be worth fighting for if she learned her littermates were dead. It was hard enough coping with the loss of her mother and sire.

  The only thing Magda knew for sure was that her youngest littermate, Katrin, was safe with Cariboo lunewulf in Prince George. As much as she adored her Malta werewolf sire, he wasn’t the only one who had bestowed special gifts upon his cubs. Thanks to their Cariboo lunewulf mother, Katrin didn’t look like a Malta werewolf. Her fur and complexion in her skin was almost as white as a pure bred Cariboo lunewulf. Magda was so glad Katrin had been able to pass for Cariboo. As much as it tore her up to separate the three of them, as the eldest, she howled how it would be. Katrin hadn’t wanted to be left alone with a new pack. But she was safe. Eventually Katrin would find a new life with that pack.

  Now fully awake, Magda pushed herself to all four paws and wobbled a moment. It would take more than a few fish to replenish enough energy for her to keep running and stay alive. After all she’d endured, Magda would be damned if it ended with her starving to death in a cold, dark cave.

>   Climbing around the fallen trees and large boulders she’d stacked at the cave entrance, Magda sniffed the frigid, mountain air before hobbling along the mountainside toward the bubbly water and smell of fish.

  She understood now why her Cariboo lunewulf mother and pure bred Malta werewolf sire had raised their cubs deep in the mountains north of where she was now. Her litter hadn’t belonged to a pack. Yet they’d lived in paradise, every day smelling as happy as the last. Magda had never known, while growing up, how incredibly safe they’d been on the side of their mountain.

  Happiness didn’t last forever. It had all ended when humans had climbed the mountain and burned all the werewolf dens they had found to the ground. Her sire and mother hadn’t died in that fire because of what breed of werewolf they were. They had died simply because they were werewolves.

  Magda lived with the stench of prejudice from humans, and the thick, pungent odor of fear and hatred from other werewolves. At the moment she also lived with her starvation and growing weakness. What she wouldn’t do to run into an elk, or some other large animal. She hung her head, disgusted with her thoughts. An elk was the last thing she needed to see right now. Magna wouldn’t have the strength to kill it.

  Testing her abilities, she stared at several fallen logs ahead of her that had rushed down stream with the current and now lined the edge of the rocky bank. An easy path from her cave to her feeding ground might make restoring her strength a bit easier. Not to mention, a few good meals would make thinking easier and plotting her way off this mountain.

  Magda concentrated on the fallen logs. She willed the air around them to become dense and heavier. Magda didn’t know much about science. It was imagery she invented in her brain that helped ignite her gift and make it work. Her sire had howled of elements and mastering them. She’d been a mere pup at the time. Today she still used the same line of thinking that had worked for her then. In order to move a large, inanimate object she imagined something strong, something invincible that might bring whatever she wanted to her. It helped her gift come to life. To move the logs and create a path she imagined the air becoming heavy enough to lift them.

  Instead of air, her thoughts drifted to the Cariboo male she’d come face to face with the other day. He had been so tall, so muscular, and sexy in that forbidding, incredibly hot sort of way. For a moment, she swore she breathed in his masculine scent. The log she’d been staring at and trying to move with her gift rolled to its side.

  Crap! She growled, bearing her teeth. In spite of her mouth being unable to form the word, she grumbled more, feeling the urge to spew out a long list of expletives. What kind of stupid bitch gets wet thinking about a male whose only desire is to snap her neck in two?

  One who is going to start smelling like an idiot if she isn’t careful. Magda gave herself a mental shake and worked her way across the rocks to the water. It was pointless trying to use her gift on an empty stomach. Food first. Rearranging drift wood would have to come later.

  Maybe once she caught a few trout she would dare building a fire, cooking her dinner and eating it in her flesh. It was a very short term plan but one appealing enough to lighten her mood. Her imagination was getting the best of her. At this rate, she’d be tres fou before she got off the mountain.

  The rushing water around her legs cleared her head with fierce ferocity. Nothing like an icy bath to help rejuvenate the soul. Coffee sounded so much better. If she managed putting her life back in order—no, not if! Magda would put her life in order. Soon she’d have her own den again. Once that happened she’d howl for her littermates.

  Magda froze. The beginning of the first pleasant thought she’d had since waking dissipated when she raised her head. On the other side of the water was a large Cariboo male. His silver eyes glowed against the early evening moonlight. His solid white coat was the color of fresh driven snow.

  Fucking tail! She really had picked up on his scent while trying to move the fallen trees. Her preoccupation with food had made her too weak. Her senses warned her and she’d ignored them.

  Magda stared at the male. There wasn’t any doubt in her mind, which was damn clear now, who he was. Even among Cariboo lunewulf there couldn’t possibly be that many males with such dominating, off the charts, sex appeal. Magda wasn’t sure if lack of food or an inner desire to taste something she shouldn’t get anywhere near was making her weak in the legs.

  Maybe she had run long enough and now had a death wish. How many females wondered what it would be like to fuck someone who planned on killing them?

  He was definitely the male who had stood staring at her after she’d dodged the leopards. If it hadn’t been for the other two Cariboo bounding back up that mountain the other day, she would likely be dead right now.

  She stared into his eyes. Maybe she was too worn down to trust her senses. If she did, she might wonder why she didn’t smell hatred, anger or fear. It very likely was her half-starved state that willed her to sense something in this male that wasn’t there. If Magda didn’t know better she would swear she smelled emotions quite the opposite.

  Interest. Curiosity. Lust.

  Magda took a step backward out of the water. Her only advantage was quite a few slippery rocks and the noisy, rushing water between them. It only gave her a few seconds advantage.

  If there was one thing she’d learned since running for her life it was to know when to use her gift, and when to simply run. She didn’t want to hurt the male. But it was more important that she not get hurt. Magda raced away from the water, from her dinner, back across the mountain and to the safety of the cave. She remained alert, praying his scent would go away.

  After leaping over the fallen trees and large boulders that hid the entrance, Magda slid into the safety of her cave and up against the far wall. Her heart pounded so hard it was damn near impossible to hear if he were approaching. She breathed in, breathed out, forcing her heart to slow, and her senses to remain acute.

  “Malta female! I’m not going to hurt you,” a male voice yelled.

  So much for soothing her over-worked heart. It rushed into her throat and almost choked her. She prayed she hadn’t just yelped. There wasn’t enough space in the cave to hide the sudden smell of her fear, and she hated how it made her appear weak. Worse yet, she was now trapped. Looking around frantically, it dawned on her that the cave was empty. There was nothing to throw with her mind, no way to protect herself other than with tooth and claw. She might be very hungry but she wasn’t delusional enough to believe she would stand a chance in a fight against that male. He was almost twice her size. Even though he’d changed back into his flesh, it would take nothing for him to return to his fur.

  “I know you hear me,” he spoke again. He had a deep, rough baritone. “I’m putting my clothes on and coming in. It would be nice if you didn’t filet me when I enter.”

  Magda studied the cave entrance. Instinct had her plotting her escape. Maybe when he entered she might be able to rush past him. That might work. But then where would she go?

  “I’m coming in,” he warned. He grunted as he climbed around the obstacle course she’d designed to keep her safe. A lot of good it ended up doing her. “You know my littermate and I used to come to this cave when we were cubs.”

  In spite of the darkness, Magda saw him the moment he entered and straightened. The male was tall. He wasn’t able to straighten all the way when he stood in her cave, which until a moment ago had been her sanctuary. Now it was so full of his rough, masculine aroma she wasn’t able to inhale without filling her lungs with it. The outdoors clung to him, adding to his appealing scent. He smelled pleased, happy and more than a bit triumphant. The gleam in his bright blue eyes showed off that particular emotion. A slightly crooked, almost half-smile played at his lips. Hopefully his senses had dulled enough now that he was in his human form. Magda didn’t want him sniffing out how sexually appealing she thought he was.

  “Wish I would have guessed yesterday that you’d be here. I climbed half
the damn mountain looking for you.”

  If she were in her flesh the growl that escaped her lips would have sounded more like a moan. This male was hot as hell. Along with no food there had been a noticeable lack of sex in her life since she’d been on the run. Unfortunately, Magda seriously doubted he’d hunted her in order to fuck her. She didn’t smell anything vindictive about him, but she didn’t smell lust either. Not to mention, a werewolf as incredibly sexy as he was wouldn’t be interested in a Malta werewolf female. He probably had a pack full of unmated bitches ready to belly up for him.

  “Here.” He tossed a duffle bag her direction.

  When Magda did growl it was in surprise, and instant anger, when his crooked grin broadened.

  “Change little bitch,” he growled in return. There was something not quite human in the sound of his voice. “We’ll see if these clothes fit you.” There was that stupid crooked grin again. “Change and you can eat some of this food I brought for you.”

  This male showed up in her cave and gave her orders. Then he taunted her with food as if he already knew she was starving. The rumble in his voice electrified the hairs on her back and made her insides tighten in a way she prayed he didn’t detect in his human form. He was getting to her. She didn’t want him in the cave, let alone affecting her in a way best not to label.

  Magda bared her teeth and lunged at him. This male would know, before he knew anything else that she didn’t belly up for anyone. She considered making him bleed, but managed only to get a mouthful of the sweater he wore. The male leapt to the side just as strands of yarn tore.

  Worse yet, the fucking Cariboo had the audacity to laugh. It made her cave smell even more of him, of happiness, of mischievousness and a daring curiosity that continued to do something to her insides she didn’t want him having the power to do.