Wolf's Haven

by Ambrielle Kirk

  Devin spread the last of the sealant next to the crack on the window. This needed to be done before the worst of the snow storms moved in over the next few days. If he was going to offer up his shelter to this woman, she needed to be safe and warm.

  Inside, Tamara began placing the food on two plates. He’d found himself grinning a few times as she rushed about looking in every cabinet and drawer for just the right utensil. He fed his wolf at the break of dawn while she still slept, but still his mouth watered as she stacked pancakes high on a platter. The aroma of juicy bacon had his stomach grumbling the way hers did just last evening.

  She’d washed and pulled her hair in a ponytail. He’d admired the way the curls became more defined as her tresses dried over the last hour. Before her hair had been bone straight, now the strands were curly and delicate against her face. Her skin looked smooth to the touch and slightly tanned, but he could tell that she was born with her beautiful light almond complexion.

  A pair of fresh pajamas and one of his shirts masked the delicious curves he’d admired the night he rescued her. He’d tried like hell to rid himself of the images of soft creamy thighs encased in her jeans and delectable nipples pressing against the silky fabric of her bra. It was a lost cause. She was right. Pervert. That’s what he felt like. He couldn’t help himself. As he neared what Caedmon culture called a Blue Moon heat, he’d have to suppress his desires around all women if he wanted to preserve his bachelorhood. This level of heat was the strongest and almost always resulted in numerous wolf matings. The wolf spirit within him yearned for a companion year after year, but his human side battled this need.

  It’d been less than two days and he already felt this strong inclination to protect her. Even when he came across her huddled near the bushes while in his wolf form he’d been drawn to her. It was a strange feeling since he barely knew the woman.

  At that moment, Tamara walked up to the window and tapped on it. She mouthed the words breakfast. He tossed his tools in the bucket on the ground and climbed down the ladder.

  She was placing utensils on the table just as he entered the cabin. Warmth and the smell of delicious home-cooked food comforted him. He peeled out of the wet long sleeve tee and hung it over a hook on the door. He grabbed another shirt out of the chest next to the bed. Just before meeting her in the kitchen, he threw another log in the fireplace.

  “I made you breakfast,” Tamara said, shyly.

  “Thank you.” He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. His knees came up to touch the bottom of it, but he kept a straight face. There wasn’t many occasions when he actually ate at a table. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “I wanted to.” She turned and grabbed the pitcher of hand squeezed orange juice and placed it beside the tray. “You’d been working all morning without eating.”

  Just as she moved her hand away, Devin glimpsed a mark on the inside of her arm. He took her arm and turned it over to his inspection. It was an old bruise, but the scab was mature and the skin around it was still red. Based on the healing progress of the bruise, it wasn’t one she’d gotten as a result of her jump.

  His gaze trailed upward to meet her troubled ones. He wanted to ask her how she got the bruise, but she shook her head and pulled her arm away.

  “How’s your ankle?” he asked, instead.

  She shrugged. “I managed to get around this morning so I guess I’m healing.”

  “Have you eaten?” He sat there with his hands grabbing the edges of the table. His stomach urged him to dive into the plate head first, but he fought the wolf-like instinct.

  “No, not yet.” She poured a small amount of syrup over her pancakes. “What were you doing out there?”

  “Two of the windows needed new caulking.” He poured some orange juice in a glass and placed it directly in front of her. “More snow is expected this evening.”

  “I’m not used to all this snow.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Florida.” She took a long sip of juice. “I’ve traveled all over the country, though.”

  “That figures. They have lots of beaches there.”

  “Right.” Tamara nodded, and slowly cut into her pancakes with a knife and fork. “Where do you live?”

  He’d never known anyone to eat hot cakes with a knife and fork. “Small town in Montana.”

  “So, you’ve traveled from far. Do you have family here?”

  Devin didn’t know how to answer that one. He’d been a lone wolf and without a pack for five years. Referring to the people he left behind as his family felt foreign to him. “Yes.”

  “A wife and kids?” Tamara studied him with those gorgeous brown eyes of hers.

  He grinned. “Of course not.”

  She let her eyes fall to the table, and then lifted a piece of pancake into her mouth.

  The men’s flannel shirt she wore seemed to swallow her. It slid off her shoulders on one side revealing a delicate collarbone and slim shoulders. This woman was gorgeous; it was a fact confirmed when he got the first real look at her the other night by the stream.

  How would he stand up to his pack if he couldn’t even contain this sexual and emotional hunger suddenly consuming him? He’d been called to lead them, but he was no leader. He was far from him it. A leader didn’t run from his problems. A leader was supposed to accept his past, not be ashamed of it. Before the eve of the Blue Moon, he’d help them with pack matters to include finding a suitable replacement for the late Alpha leader, Daniel Caedmon. But he could not—would not—lead them. He just wanted to return to his secluded ranch in Montana where one wasn’t looked on in disdain for being the bastard son.

  Devin swallowed the rising lump in his throat and picked up his fork. He lifted his gaze to Tamara, who was meticulously parting her food off in sections on her plate. She appeared to be in deep thought as she chewed ever so slowly. Content with the amount of food she’d taken in, he sliced into his stack and began eating.

  He and this beautiful woman had similar dilemmas. They’d both succeeded in running from their past. Yet, he’d foolishly talked himself into returning to his.

  ***

  Tamara picked up pace and then brought the palms of her hands up to her face and blew on them. This didn’t help her frigid fingertips. Each time her boots hit the ground, they sunk into deep puddles of snow. Her feet were freezing despite the double layer of socks she took from the cabin. The sun shone through the trees as day break finally began to set in. Soon the temperatures would rise and she would be okay. She hadn’t walked that far away from the cabin, but thought she heard signs of cars whizzing by on a road.

  This was a stupid idea. Despite how far she’d gotten on the trail, she still felt lost. If Devin hadn’t told her a lie the other day, then the path would lead her into town just as he’d said. Once there, she could take a bus to the next city and maybe find the nearest train station. A new identity and life was just beyond her reach.

  As he’d done the previous night at the break of dawn, Devin had peeled out of his sleeping blanket by the fireplace and left. Just as she’d planned, she waited a half hour until she was sure he wasn’t within earshot of the cabin, got dressed and made her way to the trail. She’d left a note for Devin thanking him for his hospitality. He’d probably revel in relief once she was gone anyway. It seemed that he had his own business to tend to and she was just an unwanted distraction.

  Tamara stuffed both hands into her jacket pockets. She fumbled with the small roll of cash she’d saved up over the last few weeks while on the road with Brad. It was all the money she had to her name. She was surprised to find it still in the back pocket of her jeans. She’d have to make due until she got her new identity and found a job. If growing up in a poor household didn’t teach her anything else, it’d given her the common sense she needed to make a dollar out of fifteen cents. It was time to put those skills to the test.

  A rabid growl caused Tamara to nearly jump several inches into the air. Her eyes wid
ened as she focused on a huge brown wolf in her path. Its fangs glistened with saliva and the lips lifted in a snarl. The ears were folded back against the head. Tamara took several rigid steps backward. The wolf prowled toward her and gave another low warning growl. Spittle dripped from the mouth onto the ground.

  She wanted to stand her ground but she was scared shitless. There was no hint of friendly demeanor with this wolf as she’d experienced with the one that saved her nights ago. This one’s eyes were brown, not emerald. And they seemed to dare her to make a move.

  It lunged forward and gave a harsh growl, almost like a bark. She screamed, and her hand flew to her chest, just as it felt like it would explode from fear. The blood throbbed loudly in her veins. She couldn’t think straight. How would she escape this time? She wasn’t stupid enough to think she could outrun a wild wolf. Damn! She was dead meat. Oh why, oh why was the devil taunting her? Was she never meant to have a normal, peaceful life?

  Her chest and throat tightened and she realized she’d been holding her breath. She let it go in one huff. The wolf didn’t let up. It continued to buck at her as if coaxing her to run. If she ran, she’d be dead meat. If she didn’t run, she’d be the wolf’s breakfast. Dead one way or the other.

  Her body shook as she took careful strides backward. The heel of her boats hit something solid on the ground. Pain sprung up from her freshly bandaged ankle into her leg. Before she could catch her balance she fell—butt first—on the ground. It was the brown wolf’s golden opportunity and he moved in on her quickly. The massive white chest blocked her view entirely, and all she could think about was dying out here all alone. No one would know. No one would care.

  Just as she blinked her eyes, a flash of black swooshed past her. One minute the brown wolf hovered over her and the next minute a frenzy of black and brown fur tumbled across the forest floor. It took a shake of her head and a few seconds to focus and realize that two wolves fought. They rolled and toppled across the forest floor in one massive fur ball.

  Tamara looked on, frozen in spot. Not only were the angry growls prevalent, but the fangs snapped as they tried to take a bite out of each other. She didn’t want to witness a slaughter. Gaining her grounding, she scrambled to get up. She dashed several feet and stopped beside a tree to catch her breath.

  The wolves still sparred over what could only be one thing…the chance to make her their next meal. Just before Tamara turned to escape, the wolf with the emerald eyes focused on her.

  The remembrance of him saving her from being caught grounded her to the spot. Something akin to pity raced through her heart. The brown wolf took advantage of his opponent’s hesitation and pawed him in the face. It yelped in pain, but lunged on his assailant once more.

  She cringed as she heard another yelp from one of the wolves. Gripping at the rough bark, she remained an onlooker behind the tree.

  Emerald wolf made a quick lunge and came down on the brown wolf’s neck with his sharp canines, holding him down. That put a stop to the snarling and fang snapping. The only sound now was the deep breathing of the two enraged animals and the faint whistle of the winter breeze.

  When emerald wolf let go, the other lunged back and snarled. Her savior stalked forward growling loudly at her threat. Both of the wolves’ furs were spotted with blood. Finally the brown wolf dipped his head in a sign of submission. It buried its nose literally in the ground, backed away a safe distance, and then ran off between some trees.

  When her savior turned to look at her with all signs of anger wiped from its expression, she knew for sure that it was wolfie. Her heart pounded as he slowly approached her. She waited at her post beside the tree.

  “Wolfie,” Tamara knelt down next to him. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”

  As she reached up to touch its soft fur, he slumped to the ground.

  “Oh, no…” She stroked and shook the unconscious wolf. It didn’t move one bit. Collapsing next to him, she listened for a heartbeat. The rhythm was strong and consistent.

  She didn’t want the wolf to die. Surely that would happen if someone didn’t tend to its wounds in time. She pushed at its shoulder again, but the body felt like dead weight. It was too heavy for her to carry by herself.

  Springing to her feet, she raced back to the cabin. Devin should have been back by now. She didn’t know how he would take the news that his pet wolf became injured while trying to save her ass again.

  After dashing without stopping to catch her breath, she made it to the clearing in the forest where the cabin sat. Panting in spurts, she raced to the door and pounded. She didn’t even wait for Devin to answer, and turned the knob. Surprised to find it still unlocked, her eyes darted to the table where she left the note. It was still there along with the pen beside it. Just like she’d left it. Devin had never returned.

  Tamara clutched at her chest, finally taking in deep gulps of breath. Although her ankle throbbed in pain and her heart burned from exhaustion, the least she could do was return the favor. That wolf needed her help.

  With all the courage she had left, she ran back outside to the small shed she spotted behind the cabin. There was a wheelbarrow propped in a corner. With it, she could bring the injured wolf to safety.

  Chapter Five

  For the thirtieth time, Tamara pushed the curtains back and looked out of the front window of the cabin. The snow was piling up fast outside and still there was no sign of Devin. It was getting darker by the minute, and the forest beyond the cabin looked like eerie shadows.

  She turned away from the window. Who could blame him for leaving? He’d keep his word, and stayed one more day. It was time for her to fend for herself.

  Her eyes fell to the floor to the living, breathing wolf lying on its side next to the door. The bowl of water she’d sat next to it was left untouched. It was as though the wolf was in some coma-like state…but he was very much alive.

  Several times while cleaning the deep gashes, its lids peeled open and it stared at her with glazy eyes, only to slump to the floor again. It didn’t take a doctor to realize that its energy from all the blood lost was drained. The amount of it had been substantial enough to cause panic.

  But panic had caused her to make a quick decision. Bringing the wolf into the home might not have been such a good idea. She had no idea how to bring a wolf back to health. Plus, what would she feed it? Pancakes? How would she tend to the deep wounds once it came to? It wasn’t as if she could drive it to the nearest hospital and ask for a blood transfusion. For one, she was out in the middle of nowhere without a ride. Two, she was probably wanted by the freaking FBI for breaking and entering. Three, this wasn’t even her damn home.

  Why would Devin leave his wolf? It was lying on the floor in distress and possibly dying and he was nowhere to be seen.

  Tamara lifted her hands, palms facing up and grimaced at the nasty blisters she’d earned. It’d taken all her might to drag the wolf into that old rickety wheelbarrow. Carrying a hefty wolf through the forest didn’t prove to be an easy task either. Her shirt material was torn and tattered, and her jeans were caked in dirt and mud. She didn’t need a mirror to know that she looked like a complete, tired hag.

  Tamara glanced at the sleeping wolf again. The light from a lamp sitting on an end table shone on its sleek black fur. She’d been surprised at how soft it was. Although, she’d never touched a wolf, never even came this close to one. She thought they were all wild animals, and a threat to any frightened unsuspecting human. This one had proven her wrong. If it was Devin’s wolf perhaps it wasn’t as wild as she thought. A domesticated wolf?

  She entered the cramped bathroom which was inconveniently located on the other side of the kitchen. As she bent and stretched to peel out of her muddied clothing, her strained and tired muscles called out to her. Dragging what seemed like a two hundred pound wolf through the forest was probably the best workout she’d had in years. Her ass and thighs hurt like hell.

  It took several minutes for the water in
the shower stall to heat up. She tied up her hair as best as she could using a hand towel and stepped inside. What she needed was to visit a hair dresser fast. The next time she came in contact with a flattening iron, her hair would be a pain to straighten. Her coils were tight, sometimes unruly, courtesy of her African American mother and her locks were abundant thanks to a Native American father. Doing her hair had become a chore, but she’d learned from living on the road for a half year to make do with what was available.

  Freshly showered, she stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her. She tiptoed quietly past the wolf over to the chest near the foot of the bed. Clothes were the next item on her agenda once she found somewhere to stay. She’d escaped Brad’s clutches, but unfortunately the only thing she left with was the clothes on her back. And of course, her life.

  There was stack of neatly folded flannel shirts, jeans, and socks in the chest. It looked like Devin just kept the bare minimum. The absence of a closet also suggested he didn’t own a lot of clothes. She felt incredibly guilty for wearing the man’s clothes, but there was no way she could walk around in a towel, or even the same dirty clothes all day and night.