Robinson growled something under his breath. Joey ignored him, turning the package in her hands. No return address. A plain brown wrapper, something vaguely familiar about it. Inexplicably her heart lurched as she tore at the wrapping and tossed it on her desk, then pulled open the lid of the cardboard box.
The wooden wolf gazed up at her, its head flung back in a silent howl. For a moment she had to brace herself against the desk as the ground pitched and rolled under her feet. With shaking fingers she lifted the sculpture from its nest, cupping it in her hands and feeling the rough texture of it, smelling the forest from which it had come.
Her body began to tremble. She looked up and stared at the door, unable to move. The bars of the prison gave way. The void in her soul was suddenly filling, a flood of warmth and emotion washing through all the empty places he had left.
Perhaps—perhaps it was not too late. Not too late for endings. Or beginnings.
All at once it was as clear as mountain air. She turned to Mr Robinson, whose mouth hung open on the first word of yet another lecture.
"You're right, Mr Robinson," she said with a radiant smile. "I'm not good at practical little boxes any more. I quit."
The day was beautiful, as she had known it would be. All the world was brilliant with new life. Spring came late to the mountains, winter lingered long here and gave way grudgingly to the sun for a few brief months.
Joey drew in deep breaths of clean air, her feet guiding her effortlessly among the trees. She might never have been gone at all. The harmony she felt with this wild land, all she had learned of it and herself, brought a strange, abiding peace. In time—in time she might become as much a part of it as he was.
She walked along the edge of the lake and turned away to follow the course of one of the many streams swollen with snowmelt, the music of flowing water was everywhere, creeks and brooks and rivulets cutting eager new paths down from the mountainsides. She came to a halt at the edge of a small clear space among the trees, where the bond had led her.
They were gathered about the low slope of a hillside, five or six adult wolves sprawled on a bed of earth and old needles. And there were the pups; Joey felt a deep, spreading warmth at the sight of them where they tumbled and played just beyond the mouth of the den. A big dark gray she-wolf watched over them, her pricked ears attuned to every tiny growl and squeak.
He was among them, as she had known he would be.
Perhaps it was because of his preoccupation with the pups at his feet that he didn't sense her; she knew he had cut off the connection between them, even though she had felt the lingering touch of it in the long three months they had been apart. Or perhaps it was simply that she had learned, like a creature of the wilderness, how not to be seen or heard.
She watched in silence as he crouched among the pups who plunged at him with youthful, oblivious abandon. They were still small and clumsy, new to their world, blunt muzzles, round heads, and tiny flap ears bobbed and flashed at Luke's feet. He let them chew on his fingers and attack his knees, lost in a place where things were simple.
It was one of the wolves who sensed her first. The great head of the she-wolf lifted, she growled softly in warning.
Drowning in pups, he looked up. Joey saw him stiffen, then raise his head as if to scent the soft spring breeze. And then he turned his head, slowly, so slowly, as if he were afraid of what he would see.
"Luke," she whispered.
For an instant they were utterly still. The bond sputtered like a candle, flared and dimmed. Joey coaxed it to brighter flame, knowing it was Luke who feared to let it wake.
His eyes were fixed on hers, brilliant and unreadable. Joey drank in the sight of him, though she had never forgotten for an instant, she felt her heart begin to pound and watched the hard, closed planes of his face slowly alter.
"Joey."
Only one word, yet it held all the things she saw at last in his eyes fear, yearning, need. Hope. And something else she didn't dare say, even to herself.
But he waited, waited while the wolves watched her like a jury prepared to pronounce their verdict. Twelve sets of eyes judged her solemnly. And she was the one to break the tableau, starting into the clearing on unsteady feet. The bond flickered hesitantly.
Luke rose to meet her, sloughing puppies with gentle hands. He took a step forward, and all at once the she-wolf surged to her feet and stood before him, stiff-legged, tail high. A low growl of warning vibrated in her throat.
It was enough to stop Joey halfway across the clearing, halfway to Luke, though her gaze never left his. The she-wolf growled again, more ominously, a slow, unexpected anger, anger that was almost pride, urged Joey to take another step.
"Look into her eyes," Luke said softly. "She knows you. Don't let her dominate you."
Joey forced herself to look away from his eyes to meet the she-wolf's lambent stare. Inexplicable feelings lose in Joey, instincts that made her bristle and brought an answering growl to the back of her throat. She let the instincts take over. She spoke to the wolf deep in her mind, without words.
Yellow eyes blinked, assessed, and, after an interminable moment, looked away. The she-wolf lowered her ears, turned her back, and drifted away to the far side of the clearing.
And then there was nothing between her and Luke, nothing at all.
She moved forward, one step and then another, until she was picking her way among round little bodies and felt the warmth of fur brushing against her legs. Her eyes flooded with inexplicable happiness as the pups growled ferociously and tumbled about her feet. They were warm and soft, dark fur like down, all savage innocence, they accepted her wholly.
"They're beautiful," Joey whispered.
"Yes," Luke agreed, though his eyes were only for her. "Yes."
A thousand emotions trembled between them, filling Joey's senses to overflowing. Words came from somewhere, from some other Joey who had the ability to speak.
"I've come back, Luke," she said. "I've come back to where I belong."
For an eternity he said nothing, only gazed at her with his heart in his eyes. "Joey," he said at last, as if he, too, had forgotten the use of human language.
She attempted to say what he could not. "I tried to stay away," she murmured. "Tried to convince myself that everything that happened here..." She shook her head "It wasn't any good. I belong here. To this world."
Still he was silent, unmoving, unwilling to close that final distance between them. When she despaired of making him understand, he spoke very quietly. "With me, Joey?"
She smiled slowly, unable to answer and not needing to. The bond was opening, breaking free of its careful boundaries like a river in spring flood. Luke reached out across that last fragile distance and touched her. For a moment it was nothing more than the lightest brush of his fingers, and then he was pulling her into his arms, pressing his face into her hair. His voice was almost lost in it.
"Joelle," he breathed. "Joelle."
They might have been alone in the world, tasting, sensing, knowing nothing but each other. Joey felt his warm breath and heard the rapid beat of his heart under her cheek.
"I was afraid, Luke. Even after we found my parents, I was afraid—of living, feeling again." Joey struggled to find explanations, but Luke already understood. The bond resonated with his acceptance.
"I was afraid too, Joelle. Afraid of living without you."
She tried to shake her head, but she felt herself pressing deeper, sinking against him as if she could become part of him. His big hands spread across her back.
"I was wrong, Joey. I hurt you because I was afraid." He pushed her back gently, lacing his fingers through her hair. "I thought I couldn't live without you, and I was wrong about that, too."
She looked away from his eyes, sudden fear stopping the question she so desperately needed to ask. Perhaps she had been wrong after all. She stiffened, trying to pull away, but he held her fast with gentle dominance.
"I can live without you, Joelle,"
he said with infinite tenderness. "But I don't want to."
The world seemed to lose focus as she felt his hands cup her face, drawing her up to look at him, his eyes were very bright. "I need you, Joey."
"Need isn't enough," she whispered, calling herself a fool, holding that last fragile barrier in place.
"I know." He sighed, and his hands trembled on her cheek. "It doesn't have to be." His eyes looked deep into hers. "I love you, Joelle."
In a sudden, vivid burst of light and heat the last barrier shattered, and the bond expanded to fill every last shadowed corner of her being, healing all wounds and erasing the scars in one brilliant instant. Before the fire could consume her, Luke's mouth found hers and drew the blaze into himself, until the incandescence faded and he was once again muscle and bone and firm flesh pressed against her.
"Luke," she said. "I love you." It was all that would come, and it was enough. His joy was hers, reverberating and rebounding between them until it filled her heart to overflowing.
When the world stopped spinning, she drew back from him reluctantly. Somewhere birds were singing, water flowed down from the mountains, wolf cubs tumbled at their feet, steady and changeless. It was she who had changed, whole at last within herself. Only one thing remained.
Luke drew her from the clearing, holding her tightly against him as he made his farewells to the wolves one by one. Even when his eyes turned away she felt him, and knew he felt her to the depths of his being. And as they drifted into the forest, hand in hand, Joey thought of that time when she had come to the mountains, so many months ago.
She stopped at the verge of open land that stretched before his cabin, breaking the peaceful quiet between them at last. The look of utter joy on his face made her catch her breath.
"Luke," she said softly, folding his big hands in hers, "There is one thing—I'd like to go back to the mountain, see my parents again."
Searching her eyes, he saw deep into her soul, a flood of memories blended with her love for him until there was no separation.
"They would have loved you, Luke," she whispered. "Maybe it's a little crazy, but I want to tell them everything that's happened. I know they'll give us their blessing. Will you come?"
She heard his silent answer as his mouth found hers.
Flowers caressed Joey's cheek and tangled in her silver-gold hair. Luke brushed them away and inhaled her warm scent, mingled with the rich earth and the last late-summer blossoms. He stretched out alongside her, resting his hand on her hip. He had never seen anything so beautiful.
She looked up at him through her dark lashes, a lazy smile of utter contentment curving her lips. It was too much of a temptation, he leaned over to kiss them, and she held him off with a laugh, her hands against his chest. Even so small a touch made his body quiver in response.
"I thought you said winter and early spring were the dangerous times," she teased, holding him at bay. "You could have fooled me."
"Too much for you?" he asked with a grin. Before she could reply he shifted suddenly, dislodging her and carrying her up and over to sprawl across his chest. She gave a choked, half-protesting giggle and buried her face in his neck. Her lips were soft and deliciously warm. Luke closed his eyes and ran his hand from the strong curve of her back to the swell of her buttocks.
"I admit it," he sighed. "I can't control myself where you're concerned. I warned you to let me know if it ever got to be..."
"Overwhelming?" Joey moved her hips on his and lifted herself above him. Her hair drifted across his face "I doubt anything you do could overwhelm me now."
Luke opened one eye and frowned up at her sternly. "Is that a challenge?" he growled. "I thought we'd gone beyond games of dominance, Joey."
Brushing her mouth across his jaw, she smiled. "Only because I know who's in charge." She bit the tip of his chin to emphasize her point, and he made a sound of mock anger and pulled her down, trapping her in his arms.
Her soft gasp became another kind of sound as she went slack, running her tongue along the rim of his ear. The heat of her breath made his heart pound and his blood rush to interesting places. He groaned softly, and Joey shifted her hips again in a tantalizing motion. "You don't make a very comfortable cushion," she complained into the hollow of his neck. "Much too lumpy."
He caught the flash of her grin before he caught her legs in his and tumbled her over so that she lay beneath him. He kept his weight on his arms and pushed her thighs apart with his knees. "But you make a very comfortable cushion, Joey," he purred, bending down to take one firm nipple in his mouth. She arched against him with a gasp. "So comfortable that it's very hard to leave." He caressed her other breast with his fingers and felt the bond throb with mutual desire.
"It is hard," she remarked, her moist female heat pressing against his arousal. "Hard enough, I think, to..."
It was entirely too much for Luke. He entered her in one smooth motion and felt her response, her legs coming up to pull him deeper. The bond flared into incandescence, linking their souls as their bodies were joined.
"I love you, Joelle," he murmured as he kissed her trembling eyelids. "That's why you'll always win."
When it was over, the fever of passion cooling in the late-afternoon breeze, Luke stroked back her damp hair and watched her face. No shadows darkened her gold-flecked brown eyes, no unanswered questions. The gold was brighter now, and he could drown in the swirling embers. He gathered her against him instead, holding her as tightly as he dared, listening to the sound of their heartbeats.
"This is where it started," she murmured, looping her arms over his. "I didn't know enough then to be afraid of the Big Bad Wolf."
Luke pressed his face into her hair. He could not control the sudden surge of pain through the bond, regret and fear that were still not entirely forgotten. Joey twisted in his arms with a sharp gasp. "Luke—I'm sorry. Bad joke." With the determined strength that always surprised him, she broke his hold and turned to face him, gripping his shoulders. When he met her eyes, she caught his face in her hands. "Listen to me, Luke I love you." The words were a brilliant burst of joy that flooded the bond like a miracle. He grabbed her fiercely and kissed her until they both came up gasping.
"Don't ever leave me, Joelle," he whispered, tasting the tears on her cheeks.
"Never." They held each other as the sun began to lower, touching the mountains with a brilliant edge of gold. Joey shivered once, and Luke set her back to search her eyes.
"Are you cold?" He raised his head to scent the air. "It's late. We should be going back home." For an instant he closed his eyes. Home. For once in his life he understood what it meant.
Joey's touch made him open his eyes again. "Ordinarily, I'd like to stay here all night," she said softly. There was an odd little smile on her face. "After all, the night is our time." Luke grabbed her hand and kissed the palm. "But I'm going to be a little more cautious from now on. I'll even have to force myself to be practical."
There was an odd little lurch in the connection between them, and Luke held himself very still. His breath caught in his throat "Joey!" he snapped. "What's wrong? You're not sick, or—"
Her laugh cut him short. "Oh, no. Nothing like that, Luke." Suddenly she was leaning against him, flinging her arms around his neck. 'But it does look as if all your hard work and enthusiasm have paid off at last."
"Joey..."
She pulled away and took his hand in hers. "There are some kinds of blindness even a nice mental bond won't cure." With a firm motion she placed his hand on her belly. "Can't you feel it?"
Luke listened. And then he did feel it, as if the ground had opened up under his feet. He stared at Joey in astonishment until she laughed and kissed the astonishment away.
A lone howl rose up into the twilight, first one cry and then another, until there was a chorus of joy that filled all the world.
About the Author
Susan Krinard graduated from the California College of Arts and Crafts with a B.F.A., and worked as an
artist and freelance illustrator before turning to writing. An admirer of both romance and fantasy, Susan enjoys combining these elements in her books. She also loves to get out into nature as frequently as possible. A native Californian, Susan lives in the San Francisco Bay area with her French-Canadian husband, Serge, a dog, and a cat.
Susan loves to hear from her readers. She can be reached at:
P.O. Box 272545
Concord, CA 94527
A self-addressed stamped envelope is much appreciated.
Susan's e-mail address is:
s.krinard1genie.com
"Susan Krinard has set the standard for today's fantasy romance."
—Affaire de Coeur
No one could tame him.
Except a woman in love.
Don't miss this breathtaking romance in the electrifying tradition of Prince of Wolves…
PRINCE OF SHADOWS
by
Susan Krinard
Scarred by a tragic accident, Alexandra Warrington has come back to the Minnesota woods looking for refuge and a chance to carry on her passionate study of wolves. But her peace is shattered when she awakes one morning to find a total stranger in her bed. Magnificently muscled and perfectly naked, he exudes a wildness that frightens her and a haunting fear that touches her. Yet Alex doesn't realize that this handsome savage is a creature out of myth, a wolf transformed into a man. And when the town condemns him for a terrible crime, all she knows is that she is dangerously close to loving him, and perilously committed to saving him, no matter what the cost.
Alexandra stretched her legs and tested her snowshoes one final time. Her gear was packed and the fire banked in the stove, awaiting her return. She knew how to get to Howie's farm cross-country; she could make it there and back in a few hours if she moved quickly. Waiting until tomorrow wasn't an option.
There wasn't even time to write an entry in her journal. Alex hitched her pack over her shoulders and started away from the cabin at a brisk pace.
PRINCE OF WOLVES Page 42