Wolver's Gold (The Wolvers)

by Rhoades, Jacqueline

  Others joined in the free-for-all with yipping and snorts of laughter. They were free! free! free! And suddenly they were running, leaving the older and more cautious ones behind.

  Some instinct told them to head for the low hills and rises that led to the foothills and mountains beyond. It was safer there, with more cover for their numbers and more things to smell and chase. Smaller groups broke off from the all-female pack, some to join up with the males, some to run with friends, some to slow to the steady and comfortable trot common to all wolves.

  Rachelwolf stayed with a faster moving group, though not one that ran flat out. They ran near, but not with, a group of males. Occasionally, one or two of the males would join their party, checking scents for someone familiar or someone new. No one took offense at this. It was the way of wolvers under the sway of the moon.

  Rachel saw a large black male approach and knew by the size and the massive chest, who it must be.

  “Mr. Marbank from the livery must be looking for Miss Nesbit,” Rachel informed her wolf. “Eustace said Mr. Marbank had an interest.”

  The she-wolf snapped at her own backside in an attempt to correct the silly and annoying human inside her.

  “No Mister. No Miss. Achilleswolf. Cassiewolf. No other names count. Only the Alpha and the Mate are special. Others are like Rachelwolf. Pack.” And then she yipped again and raised her nose to the air in a short, joyful howl. “Challenger special, too. Find mate!”

  “No, no, no!”

  “Mate, mate, mate!”

  Their group was dwindling as more and more females paired off with males, the males first running beside them before culling them from the group. The human Rachel saw what was happening, but it was the she-wolf who understood. The males had never seen this many she-wolves run and the scents of the unmated were more enticing than chasing jackrabbits or running down a deer.

  This, too, was the way of wolvers. While anything more than sniffing, licking, and nuzzling was strictly forbidden, more mates were discovered on a moonlit run through the hills than in human form on the street. This was pack and the pack understood the need to mate. The Hunter’s Moon was particularly beguiling to the male, so beguiling, in fact, that many a young wolver woman was warned not to let her wolf rule her head.

  The she-wolf snorted in derision. “Wolf smarter than human. Knows good mate when see one. Challengerwolf good mate. Mine.”

  “No, he’s not. He’s going to be the Alpha.”

  “Not Alpha yet! Silly Sterlingwolf is the Alpha almost.” She spit as if tasting something rancid. “We find Challengerwolf, my wolf.”

  “He is not your wolf!”

  “Not yet, but will be.”

  “No!”

  “Mate, mate, mate,” Rachelwolf sang as she trotted off from the group, having spotted another group of males in the distance. She tried to nip her nagging human several times, but only succeeded in pinching herself. Frustrated, she decided to ignore the protests and pretend her human wasn’t there. After all, Rachel had put her to sleep for a long, long, long time. She was free now and, under the full moon, she was in charge.

  The she-wolf’s time-sense didn’t work in minutes or hours or days, but she knew by the pull of the moon that she had plenty of time to find her mate. She chased a few rabbits for the fun of it, zigzagging back and forth and pouncing with no real intent to capture. Once, she veered off course, to follow the flight of an owl, but lost interest when the bird flew too high. The rattle of a snake startled her, but she heeded the warning and changed her route. She could kill it if she chose to, but she wasn’t hungry and had no pups to be threatened by it. Ancient wisdom told her ‘Don’t bite things that bite back’. Bears bite back. Big cats bite back. Snakes bite back. Humans don’t bite back, but they poke with sharp sticks and burn with bang-sticks.

  “Guns. Rifles,” her human corrected.

  “Shh. Listen. Smell. New scent behind. Following.”

  It was a scent she was vaguely familiar with and would have known if Rachel wasn’t so shy about sniffing packmates. The scent, mixed with human cologne, prickled her nose and the irritation triggered recognition. She found a gap between two boulders and waited for the follower to find her. She met him with a warning growl that showed off one sharp incisor.

  “Go.”

  The male didn’t listen. He broadened his stance and puffed out his chest to make himself look bigger. He was prime and healthy and he knew it.

  “Go,” she told him again and added a few more teeth to show she meant business.

  He opened his mouth, tongue partly protruding and sniffed, long and loud, taking in her scent. His tongue came out to lick his lips and muzzle as if she was a tasty treat, a rabbit or a mouse.

  How rude! She was no rodent! She was strong. She was beautiful. She was wolf/wolver. She bared her teeth in a full blown snarl and lunged with a snapping of jaws, the sound a threat and show of intent.

  The male leapt back, just out of reach, but he didn’t listen. “Jack, Rachel, mate.”

  Deep inside her, Rachel uttered a word that would make their mate laugh, so Rachelwolf repeated it.

  “Asshat!”

  The male looked surprised at her name for him and even more surprised when she leapt at him, snarling and slashing at his muzzle with her sharp teeth. She caught the edge of his nose and blood spurted. The scent of blood enflamed her and she attacked again. He was bigger than she, and stronger, and she shouldn’t have been able to best him, but he was a stupid wolf and too busy licking the blood from his nose and once again, she caught him off guard. She bowled him off his feet and with one last snarl, trotted away, showing him her tail in contempt. Stupid male.

  She’d lost track of the party of six males she was looking to join and climbed to the top of a rise to better catch sight or scent. Standing upwind, she smelled them before she saw them some distance away, dark shadows in the light of the moon. Only now, they were five. Sorting through the scents, she found the wolver she was looking for and pulled the special fragrance of him into her. Her breath released in a long joyful howl. He was far, but not too far, and her long legs would carry her there in no time. She set off in a graceful lope, across an area of relatively flat ground. Night creatures moved through the brush and grasses, their movement and odors leaving impressions, but garnering no interest. She knew where she was going and who she was going to. With the wind in her face, his scent became stronger and she needed to find him. Soon. Soon.

  Her human had ceased her nagging objections and was finally enjoying the freedom of the run. The wind was strong, the air was cool, and the sky was clear and stars sparkled above. The Hunter’s Moon had captured her soul and she was free, free, free and running toward the mate she knew was hers. He knew it, too.

  She heard the soft pounding of wolf feet behind her and to her right flank and her first thought was that stupid Jackwolf had followed her though being downwind, she couldn’t catch his scent. Let him follow and see what a real mate looked like. She increased her speed.

  It was foolish and cocky and Rachel tried to warn her, but she was tired of the woman’s nagging and by the time she realized this wolf was too big, too powerful to be Jackwolf, it was already too late.

  Her burst of speed was nothing to this wolf and he tackled her from the side with such force that the wind was knocked out of her. With the deep gasp of air needed to refill her lungs, she knew him. He was the largest of the wolves who attacked Challenger, the night she fought beside him. She had no name for him, but she didn’t need one. Her human knew him well and she was afraid.

  He was the Alpha’s Second and when his muzzle caught her underside and tossed her through the air, she knew he wasn’t only strong. He was brutal.

  She would have bowed, groveled and begged his forgiveness for whatever offense he thought she had committed. He was raw and ruthless power and he would hurt her badly if she didn’t. He never gave her the chance.

  “Run! Run!” Rachel screamed inside her, but the s
he-wolf was too terrified to listen.

  Humans didn’t understand the way of wolves. She couldn’t outrun this male. She would have to beg for mercy. Rachelwolf staggered to her feet, searching for the balance she needed to drop to her belly and crawl. But again, he gave her no time. His teeth were at the back of her neck, his body pushing at her from behind and the silent communication within his snarl was clear.

  “Mate.”

  It wasn’t a question or the stupid assumption of Jackwolf. It was a command. He was going to mount her.

  “No! No! No!” She howled her objection to this forbidden act.

  Wolvers did not mate this way. They mated as humans and offspring could only be born from truly mated pairs. This was not mating, but it could produce offspring. Every wolver knew this without being taught, and Primal Law was clear. Such an act was an abomination.

  Offspring of such a union would not be wolver, would be something else. It would not be human. It would not be wolf. It would be a monster. And no wolver female could hold her head high after being used in such a way.

  Rachelwolf would not let her body be used in such a way. Could not. She twisted beneath the grasp of his teeth and the cover of his body. The submissive nature of her wolf gave way to the wolver directive of Primal Law. She fought and echoed her humans scream of pain when the vicious teeth sank through her thick coat and into the flesh of her neck. Skin tore as she thrashed and twisted onto her back, instinctively kicking out with her hind feet at the soft belly now above her.

  He yelped and leapt away, snarling in fury at the blood she had drawn.

  Feet flailing in the air, she twisted, rolled, found purchase, and scrambled upright, trying to run while finding her balance. She heard his snarl as he dove at her and another joined it and she was driven back to the ground by the weight of two male wolves locked in combat.

  Once more, she was fighting for breath as she clawed her way from beneath the snarling wolves. She smelled blood, her own and the Second’s. She smelled the fetid stench of the Second, forever tied to what he tried to do. And she smelled the wolver who was meant to be her mate, his scent now tinged with a primordial fury in his need to protect what was his. Both males swelled with an explosion of power.

  Fear, anger, and the surge of power crackling through the air, brought her body to a fevered pitch and she snarled and growled at the mass of silver and brown fur, but she could do nothing to help. They were moving too fast, a tangle of slashing claws and teeth.

  More wolvers were coming, three from behind her and four from where she’d been headed. Other snarls joined the combatants’, though none entered the battle and then the Alpha was there, ordering them to stop with growls and snarls of his own. They ignored him and the swell of his power when he snarled again felt half-hearted at best.

  Inside her heaving chest, the she-wolf felt her human’s worry that this was a Challenge and the Alpha would allow it to end in death.

  When the two battling wolves tore apart, each with bloodied muzzles, it was Challenger who attacked again. Power surged and filled the area around them, an electric charge like lightning striking too close for comfort and several wolves whined nervously.

  This time there was no circling for position, no dominant displays from which the loser could limp away with his life, if not his dignity, intact. The silver wolf that carried Challenger McCall was raging with bloodlust and the hatred in his glowing eyes was proof his feral nature had won the battle of wills. His target was the brown wolf’s throat and if it wasn’t for the interference of another two wolves, he would have succeeded. It was those two others who joined in the fray, using their bodies to check his lunges and their teeth to turn him aside. They fought him not out of anger or against him, but to keep him from achieving his goal.

  With one last snarl and shake of his head, the Second stalked off into the night with a great show of bravado, but the stink of his fear mixed with Rachel’s and lingered in the cool night air. He was followed by the Alpha and the three others with him.

  Rachelwolf was so shaken by her ordeal and the fight that followed, she turned with a growl when a friendly nose nuzzled her side. It was Cassiewolf, who smelled of dirt and blood herself. The female licked at the bloody wound on her friend’s neck making whining noises of sympathy while she worked.

  Her companion, the smithy, was one of those who pulled the combatants apart. The other male, Rachel recognized immediately as John Washington. He, too, was black and, but for the coloring, could have been McCall’s twin in build and size. The two males were doing what they could to keep McCall from following after the others.

  He finally came away, deciding Rachelwolf was more important than pursuit, and when he came to sniff and nuzzle her from head to tail, she almost purred with pleasure at his attentions. He growled at the wound in her neck, but she yipped and nipped at him to tell him not to fuss. She was fine now that it was over, though she’d learned a frightening lesson about running alone.

  Rachelwolf hung her head and chuffed in disappointment when the black wolf made the decision to which the others agreed.

  “Home.”

  Chapter 21

  It was not what Rachel had hoped for from her night of the Hunter’s Moon. She was dirty, tired, and still quivering inside with the aftermath of fear, yet the failure of the night was personal. The other women had fared wonderfully well on their first night of freedom and the party returned to a crowd of smiling women. With the exception of Cassie and herself, the run could be considered a success for the women and for the pack.

  After a long day’s work and a run that lasted until the wee hours of the morning, Rachel was surprised at the lively exuberance of the women, but Daisy wasn’t.

  “There are going to be a lot of happy wolvers tonight and for the next few weeks. The flowers are going to be bored. You’re bright ideas are going to cut into my business, Rachel Kincaid,” she said and laughed at Rachel’s questioning look. “Didn’t you know? Going over the moon makes a girl hungry for more than a thick steak.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “Don’t you feel it? Aren’t your insides quivering? Aren’t you feeling things that a well-bred and refined lady like yourself shouldn’t feel?” she asked snidely, though she did it with a smile.

  Yes, she was, but Rachel thought that was due to the proximity of Challenger McCall. She’d been feeling and fighting it for days. “Going over the moon does that?”

  Daisy nodded. “And more. My girls don’t run once a month because the Alpha wants to keep his men happy. They run for themselves, because it keeps them happy.” She looked over her shoulder to where Sheriff McCall was talking to a small group of men. “Take your shot, honey, because you don’t have another year to wait.”

  Scrubbing the stench of Barnabas Holt from her body, Rachel thought about not only Daisy’s words, but those of the Mate as well. Things were moving more quickly than McCall anticipated. It had become obvious to her that John Washington was privy to McCall’s ambitions when he voiced his concern that things might be moving too fast.

  “The lines are drawn,” McCall said, “Everybody involved knows it. Tonight just proved it. Our time may be running out, but so is theirs.”

  Which meant Rachel’s time was running out, too. It wasn’t only her feelings for Challenger McCall. It was also the Hunter’s Moon. As it stood, her memory of this night would always be tainted by the brutality of Barnabas Holt which, beyond the terror of it, robbed her of the time she wanted to spend running free with McCall.

  If she was going to grab those moments of joy, it had to happen now. The only question was how. She needed a plan. Her wolf wasn’t worried about time or planning. Her solution was simple.

  “Go. Find mate. Now!”

  *****

  Rachel drew in her breath, held it, and knocked. It was hardly a forceful knock, but it sounded loud in the stillness of the night. She knocked again, her fraying nerves giving more force than she intended to her knuckles
rapping against the wood. This was foolish. He would see her now for what she was, a ridiculous woman, reaching too late for something she should have found years ago. She should turn and run back to the safety of her room in the back of the hotel.

  Her wolf was howling inside, clawing at her. This, too, was pure foolishness. Why, oh why, had she listened to her wolf? The animal made decisions based on the feelings of the moment with no thought to consequences. She’d allowed it to rule tonight and look what happened. She was caught alone and defenseless. Her wolf was still young, wild and free…

  As if her hand had a mind of its own, the force of her blows increased as she pounded the side of her fist against the door.

  She only stopped when she heard the scuffling inside. Without the constant thumping of her fist, she could hear the dog whine. Something fell over, followed by a sharp curse, followed by stomping and thumping. He was putting on his boots. Panic gripped her. This was her last chance to run.

  The door was opening and she couldn't think of a reasonable excuse to be calling on the town sheriff at two thirty in the morning wearing her nightgown and shawl. It was too late to turn back now.

  “Miss Kincaid? What’s wrong?”

  Hand frozen in position to knock, heart beating with sheer panic, Rachel was confronted with the naked chest of the wolver she had come to see. She couldn’t look away. It was a magnificent chest, broad and powerful, with a sprinkling of hair forming a vee at its center, the point tapering to a fine line as it dropped down and down and…

  She blurted out her true reason for being there.

  "I want to have sex with you."

  Looking like she'd disturbed his sleep, he stared at her as if she were some apparition come to haunt him. Wiping the sleep from his lashes, he frowned, closed his eyes, opened them again, and said, "What?"

  "I-I want to have sex with you."

  He ran his fingers through his hair and muttered, "Fuck me."