by Linda Palmer
Oh my freakin' gosh. "Come on." I caught Rhyan's arm.
Cam looked from me to my guy. "Where are you going?"
"None of your business, asshole."
Rhyan's answer clearly didn't set well.
"You need to back the fuck off." Cam punched his forefinger in my wolf's chest. "She's already spoken for."
Rhyan grinned. "'Spoken for?' What is this, medieval England? She gets to pick who she wants, dude, and she doesn't want you."
"Says who?"
"Says Tehya. Remember her knee smashing your nuts yesterday? That means no in Quantauk."
Cam flushed.
Rhyan laughed at him. "Oh yeah. I was there. I saw it all."
"She wouldn't give you a second look if she knew what I know." Cam suddenly charged.
I yelled. The guys began to scuffle. In a heartbeat, Chief had Cam by the sweater.
"Leave!" he said to Rhyan and me.
We didn't have to be told twice. Well, I didn't. Rhyan clearly wanted to stay and fight, especially when Cam yelled, "You'll be sorry, fucker!"
So it took everything I had to drag Rhyan out the door. Then I had to push him all the way to Chief's pick-up.
"What an idiot," Rhyan said as he buckled up. He kept his angry eyes on the house.
"You or Cam?"
He looked at me in surprise. "Cam, of course. I was simply protecting you."
"No, you were marking your territory." I looked down at my feet. "I'm surprised I don't have pee all over my boots."
Rhyan's cheeks turned a little pink. "Can I help it if the wolf in me comes out every once in a while?"
I didn't answer. Instead, I started the truck and headed for the mountains, a ninety-minute drive that would put us there in time for lunch. Our destination, a craggy lookout often used by Chief during wolf training, belonged to the Quantauks, as did the acres surrounding it. A tribe member who'd died a few years ago left it behind. A large cave lay somewhere to the east--the one Chief used for survival outings. Since I'd never been invited along, I didn't have a clue how to find it.
We actually arrived a little later than planned because of terrible road conditions. I realized Chief had been right about the shortcut. We'd never have managed it. When we finally piled out of the truck, which I parked in a small meadow way off the road, I took stock of our situation. I saw a dense forest just ahead, a charcoal-gray sky above, and wolf tracks in the snow. I saw Rhyan's nostrils flare and knew he inhaled the scents on the air, instinctive wolf actions.
"What do you smell?"
He hesitated so long I wondered if he might be thinking up a lie. "Snow, cedar trees--"
I cut him off. "Any wolves?"
Though he nodded, he looked puzzled. The set of his shoulders and the clinch of his jaw told me something might not be right. That and the deathly quiet surrounding us actually spooked me a little. I couldn't even hear any birds.
"What?" I asked with a shiver and another look around. Clearly, he smelled something funky.
"Nothing. We're good."
Hm. Well acquainted with the terrain, I went first down the path leading into the woods. This is where I always took wolf-way candidates when Chief didn't have time to do it himself. We'd sit on boulders just beyond the trees and watch the wolves for hours on end. More than once, I wondered why they let us. I'm sure our human scents revealed our presence, and wolves were famous for their mobility. In fact, a fifty-mile trek to find food meant nothing to them, yet for some reason, they stayed around. I'd even named a few through the years, based on wolves made famous in literature--BB, short for Big Bad; White Fang; Warg; Brynach.
Did they somehow know how much we loved them? Did they sense the brotherhood? The awe? Even the jealousy?
Rhyan's demeanor kept me on edge. He kept looking back and pausing as if he needed to do something to his boots while he pretended not to peer into the trees. What the heck had him so worked up? I didn't bother to ask. He'd only lie again.
By the time we got to our destination, my legs ached and I had goose bumps that weren't connected to the weather. The deep snow, though lighter in the forest because of the trees, still hampered progress, and the tangled undergrowth only made things worse. We tried to find a comfortable spot on the enormous rock that provided the best view of the clearing below. Since I didn't see any wolves, I took the backpack and dug out the sandwiches. We ate quickly and stowed the trash away, drank some bottled water, then settled in. I handed Rhyan some binoculars, which he immediately used to scan the trees behind us. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
A couple of snowflakes drifted in front of my face. I automatically glanced at the sky. I realized it looked worse. I knew we'd only have three or four hours at most to study wolf behavior.
Assuming they ever showed up.
I frowned and listened. As before, I heard nothing. Using the binoculars, Rhyan and I both now examined the terrain before us. Where were the wolves?
The crack of a tree limb in back of us made me jump nervously and glance over my shoulder. That's when I finally saw them--lots of them--slinking toward us. Shocked by this aggressive wolf behavior, I grabbed for Rhyan's arm but missed since he'd already leapt to his feet.
Only then did I realize these wolves didn't belong to the clearing. These belonged to the Quantauk tribe, and I knew them well. I heard a menacing snarl. They edged closer, with their fur on end.
What the heck...? Clearly, Rhyan had sensed them earlier.
Baffled, I jumped up, too, and addressed them as the tribe members I'd helped teach. "What is this? Cam, Heath, Brad--?" The names of the frontrunners rolled off my tongue. "What do you want? Why are you here?"
Cam, clearly the alpha of this mini-pack, suddenly attacked Rhyan without warning. Rhyan fell backward in the snow, twisting to avoid Cam's gnashing fangs. I screamed and ran toward them. Cloth ripped. Rhyan exploded into an enormous red wolf to defend himself.
I staggered to a halt, horrified by the tangled blur of white and red fur before me. I heard ferocious snaps. Blood drops flecked over the pristine snow. The other wolves moved in, growling with bared fangs.
"Back!" I yelled stomping at them. "Get back!" Sobbing, helpless, I searched for a weapon. I snatched up the backpack by its straps and spun toward the fight. The other wolves bowled me over as they joined the vicious attack.
God, what a sound. Snarls. Growls. Barks.
Before I could get up, I heard a sharp cry of pain. The fight abruptly ended. Swinging the bag at every furry thing in sight, I cleared a path to Rhyan-wolf. He lay still as death on the red-tinged snow. I dropped to my knees and grabbed his furry face just as he shifted back into the guy I maybe loved. The bloody, injured, possibly dead guy I maybe loved.
I put my ear to his chest. I heard a ragged heartbeat.
"Rhyan?" I desperately shook him. "Rhyan!"
He never moved.
Ignoring the wolves, I shrugged off my jacket and stuffed it under Rhyan's feet since he was certainly in shock. I also took off my flannel shirt and tried to staunch the flow of blood from a jagged tear in his shoulder. Then I saw other wounds--lots of them--bleeding just as profusely. I realized I needed help and fast; I whirled on the pack.
Eight naked guys stood watching me in silence.
"Help him."
No one moved. Furious, I charged Cam and slugged him. He caught my wrists, pinning them to his blood-splattered chest.
I struggled to get away, kicking him all the while. "Why, Cam? Why?"
"You thought I'd let that ass wipe steal you from me?" he asked with a laugh of disbelief. "You're mine, Tehya."
"Go to hell." I twisted and pulled back, desperate to get away.
Cam yanked me up close. With his hand on the back of my head, he kissed me, his tongue probing my clenched lips. I jerked my head back.
"Stop it. Stop!" I managed to turn my face toward the others. "Help me."
No one move.
With my wrists still caught in one of his powerful hands
, Cam felt me up. I kicked his bare shins with my boot again; I stomped his toes; I bit his arm until it bled. That just made it worse. He shoved me backwards onto the ground, then straddled my thighs and ripped my tank top from neck to hem before I could recover enough to stop him. I tried to gouge his eyes out. He slapped me so hard my teeth rattled.
"Cam--?" I recognized Brad's shocked voice, though Cam blocked my view of the pack. I heard murmurs of concern from the others. "What are you doing, man?"
"Shut the fuck up." Cam yanked my bra up and over my boobs before tackling the snap of my jeans and tugging them and my bikinis down to my knees. When he reached for his belt buckle, I tried to gouge his eyes out. He just laughed.
Cam's body suddenly jarred. He collapsed on top of me. Sobbing, I tried to push his dead weight aside, and then didn't have to when someone lifted and tossed him into a giant oak a little to my left. He landed in a heap and didn't move again.
Chapter Nine
Rhyan?
One eager glance proved that my boyfriend had not saved me.
I got to my feet and looked at the other guys. Most of them couldn't look back, and not just because we each had private body parts in plain view.
Cam had surprised us all.
Somehow, I got it together enough to speak, but my uncontrollable sobs made it difficult. "I-I know you...didn't m-mean...for t-this to go...this f-far." My hands shook as I pulled down my bra and tugged up my bottoms before looking helplessly at the shredded edges of my tank top. Dazed, I couldn't think how to fix them and began to cry harder.
A couple of the guys started toward me, clearly regretful and concerned. I took an instinctive step back, something I'd never have done before they betrayed my trust. They looked helplessly at each other, waiting for someone to take charge.
Was that someone me?
I struggled to focus, to gulp back my tears. "I'll tell Chief you helped us, but not unless you get Rhyan to a hospital. You know it's the right thing to do." Feeling stronger by the second, I ran to my boyfriend and knelt in the snow. His battered skin felt icy cold to my touch and already had a bluish tinge. I felt for a pulse and found one, then got the backpack and began to rummage through it. A second later, I tossed Chief's truck keys to Brad. "Drive it in as close as you can, okay? He'll be hard to carry."
Brad nodded and took charge by pointing out a couple of guys to haul Cam off. What a sight they made before they disappeared down the path into the woods. I tried to help my boyfriend as I waited for the sound of the engines. But what could I really do there? We needed to get to shelter before he froze. I listened once again for his heartbeat and barely heard it. Belatedly, I dug my cell phone from the backpack. No bars; no surprise. And next to no battery.
Finally, I heard an engine starting up in the distance. Then I heard two more. I waited for the whine of the truck motors to grow nearer. Instead, the sound faded to nothing.
A forever later, I acknowledged the horrible truth.
They'd left us.
Rhyan would surely die.
My lunch surged up through my throat. I puked until my head spun, then puked some more. At last, weak as a kitten, I got up and staggered down the path to Chief's truck. I caught my toe on roots twice and tripped, the last time lunging into a slo-mo tumble from which I barely recovered. When I finally burst from the trees into the meadow, I saw that the worst had happened. Not only had the guys not saved us, they'd taken Chief's vehicle so we couldn't save ourselves.
I bawled all the way back to Rhyan, who hadn't moved from his bed of crimson ice. He couldn't live much longer in these conditions. Could I find the cave? I suddenly wondered. I knew it lay to the east. But how would I ever get his dead weight there?
In the end, I did the only thing I could do--roll him onto my spread out jacket and drag him through the woods. His heavy boots and the backpack rode on his midriff, which I'd covered with the bloody flannel shirt.
I kept to what looked like a path, though I honestly couldn't be sure it really was. As I measured our progress in scant inches, I shivered from head to toe and puzzled over what must've happened. Somehow, Cam had convinced the other wolves to help him take out Rhyan. They'd then driven the shortcut Chief warned me not to take. How else could they have gotten there before us?
I wondered if they honestly believed they'd get away with what they'd done. Didn't they know I'd tell everyone the second I got home? Or did Cam think I'd be too scared to? If so, he didn't know me at all. I struggled to accept that this whole tragedy stemmed from his supposed feelings for me. Yet I knew it couldn't be a wolf thing. Wolves weren't that cruel.
Though my muscles screamed for mercy, I picked up speed and didn't stop until I realized Rhyan had opened his eyes. By then, I'd been hauling his body for over an hour without a true destination. I stopped at once and squatted beside him. He looked a little wild as he glanced all around.
"It's okay. They've gone."
I got a frown for my trouble. He tried to get up. Of course, he couldn't. I grabbed his arm to make him stop.
"Be still. You're hurt really bad."
I got a look so blank that it scared me. Just how much blood had he lost?
"It's me. Tehya. Remember?" Please remember.
"Tehya." His eyes seemed out of focus. "Where's that fucker Cam?"
"How'd you know it was him?" After all, they hadn't met as wolves.
"The stench." He shook his head as if to clear it. I could almost hear the memories rushing back. He sucked in a breath. "Where'd they go?"
"They left. Took Chief's truck with them. We're stranded with a storm coming. We'll freeze to death--"
"No, we won't." Rhyan, naked, bleeding, and half-frozen, took charge. I could hear it in his voice.
"Oh yeah? And how do you know that, 'cause it's looking pretty bad to me."
He set aside the backpack to slowly get up, and though I held onto his arm, I didn't help much. The flannel shirt fell at his feet. With a curse, he stooped to get it and cover himself, an action that caused him to stumble forward. I threw my arms around his waist, as desperate to give comfort as get it. He looked down at me, tensing when he saw my ravaged face.
"What the hell happened to you?" His thumb grazed my bruised cheek. "How did you tear your shirt?" He pulled the gaping edges of the tank top together.
I said the first thing that popped into my head. "Snagged it." I didn't explain the bruise, hoping he wouldn't notice the omission. "I'm okay, but we really need to get home. Any ideas?"
Rhyan clearly struggled to think. "Remember that skill I told you about?" he finally asked. "The one that made Titus send a scout after me?"
"Uh-huh."
"Well, it was survival. I won a national contest for teens, which must've put me on his radar."
"Who'd sponsor something like that?"
Rhyan shrugged. "No clue. All I know is I got a thousand dollars, which really helped out my parents."
"I'll bet Titus did it. That would be the perfect way to find guys in a certain age range with that particular skill set."
When he didn't answer, I pulled free.
The look on my boyfriend's face? Priceless.
I quickly changed the subject. "How'd you get so good at it, anyway?"
"Boy Scouts and my dad. We used to go camping with nothing but a pocket knife."
"You could win 'Survivor,' you know." I hoped my comment would erase his frown.
It did. "Don't think I haven't thought about it."
A huge flake of snow landed on the tip of my nose. Looking up, I saw others sifting through the trees arching high above us.
"We need to hurry." My teeth chattered so hard they hurt.
By now, Rhyan had knotted the flannel shirt around his waist by the sleeves, sort of like an apron. "Where were we headed, anyway?" He scooped up my bloodstained jacket from the ground and thrust it at me. I thought he seemed steadier, but he still had no color...not counting the horrible wounds all over his body, of course.
I
put the jacket on even though he needed it worse. "The cave."
"There's a cave?"
I told him about it. "If only I knew exactly where it is..."
"I'm going to shift. I'll find it. You stay here."
"But--"
"Please." Before my eyes, he evolved into a huge, wounded red wolf, this time a gentle phasing that I watched with interest. Though I'd seen this sort of miracle time and again in my life, I still remained in awe of it and probably always would. When he stood on four paws again, I sat on the root of a tree to wait, the boots on my lap. Rhyan stepped clear of the shirt, licked my face in approval and left me. I saw that he limped, obliterating my unacknowledged hopes that he healed as quickly as werewolves in the movies.
At once, the sounds of the dark woods closed in. I heard every limb rattled by the wind. I heard the rustle of some small creature in the underbrush. I heard a distant howl. Shivering with more than cold, I absently unknotted the sleeves of the shirt and neatly folded it. That done, I huddled against the rough tree bark and hoped Rhyan would hurry.
My thoughts, like snowflakes in the wind, flitted all over the place. I wondered what Chief thought about us not being back yet. Would he come looking? But of course not. He had no truck. Unless the guys drove it to the reservation. And why would they do that? No. The pack had surely left his vehicle in the middle of nowhere, which meant Chief probably fumed because we hadn't returned. Or had the law already called him? Did he now think the worst? Did he believe I'd run away, just as my mom had? And did he blame Rhyan?