Untamed (Wolf Lake)

by Kohout, Jennifer

  Roland felt his hackles rise and his wolf stir. I want her to smile at us like that.

  As if reading his thoughts, Natasha looked up at Roland, sharing that smile with him. "Marcus must be a fine male, letting the little one win."

  Roland grunted. "Michael is likely winning fair and square."

  Natasha laughed, her eyes sparkling with humor.

  Roland liked her laugh, and wondered how to go about hearing it more often.

  "Sam said there's a stream nearby?" Natasha held up the bundle, shaking it slightly.

  Roland ignored the reminder, his eyes passing over her face. He noted the paleness of her skin, the dark circles beneath her eyes and the lines of strain surrounding her mouth. More than just tired, Natasha looked like she was walking a fine line between holding it together and coming apart.

  How much had it cost her to try taking down her father? She'd obviously paid with blood, but how much of her soul had she lost?

  "Give me that," Roland ordered, taking the bundle from Natasha and tossing it aside.

  "What - ?" Natasha started. Like the dress, the toiletries had been a thoughtful gesture. She wouldn't have Sam thinking them unappreciated.

  "I want to show you something," he said, tugging her towards the forest.

  ****

  Sam stepped out of the den in time to see Roland disappear with Natasha into the forest. The bundle she had prepared lay on the ground as they headed away from the stream. Well, shit.

  Sensing her concern, Nafarius slid his arms around his mate and pulled her back against his chest. "He'll take good care of her."

  "It's not Natasha I'm worried about." Sam hadn't known Roland long. Out of everyone, Nafarius' beta had been the most resistant to Sam's presence among the pack. She thought she'd understood, his hostility stemming from the fact that she had been human.

  "Roland?" Nafarius asked, not surprised when his mate picked up on their beta's distress. He'd known Roland for so long that he'd come to accept the subtle disturbance that existed along the pack bond. "He'll be fine."

  Sam leaned her head back against her mate's shoulder. "I'm not so sure."

  Nafarius frowned after his beta. "He's been with me for thirty years, there isn't anyone I trust more."

  "I know," Sam said. "That's not what I'm worried about."

  "Then what?"

  "When I called his wolf..." Sam trailed off, the memory still fresh.

  "What did you see?" Nafarius was still trying to understand what Sam experienced with her ability.

  "He's feral," Sam said quietly. "At the heart, his wolf is wounded and wild and in so much pain."

  Nafarius looked towards the place where his beta had disappeared. He knew what he would find if he reached out to the male through the pack bond, Roland's pain was something they had both learned to live with. Nafarius had hoped that time would heal most of the wounds, covering over the emotional scars even while the physical ones remained.

  "He needs more time," Nafarius said, wondering how much time would have to pass before Roland would heal from the betrayal he had suffered.

  "I wish there was something more I could do." Sam's role as alpha drove her to take care of her pack, but the need went beyond duty. Nafarius and the pack were family and family was to be protected.

  Nafarius pressed his lips to the top of Sam's head, offering what comfort he could as they stood together watching the pack. Everyone was busy getting ready for the winter, fall was already here and the snow wasn't far behind.

  "Run with me?" Sam asked. The idea of shifting had her rolling her shoulders but running with her mate was worth the pain.

  "I can't," Nafarius said, reluctantly releasing his mate. "I need to get the men ready to hunt."

  Sam nodded, understanding. A pack their size took a lot of food to feed. Wild game and vegetables grown in the garden were plentiful in the summer but winter was a different matter. Nafarius would organize one last, large hunt to bring in as much meat as possible, and when that was gone, the pack would turn to non-perishable staples that had been brought in from town. They would still hunt for fresh meat but the pickings were likely to get slim.

  "I'll see if Maddie wants to go," Sam said. "I'm feeling restless."

  "You haven't had much chance to shift," Nafarius said, running his hand down Sam's back and feeling her wolf brushing up against the mate bond. "Just stay close."

  Sam turned to her mate, rising up on her toes she took the time to brush a soft kiss across his lips.

  "I'll catch you later," she said, her smile nearly changing his mind.

  "I look forward to it," Nafarius said, knowing that the brief contact wouldn't hold him for long.

  ****

  Natasha let herself be pulled through the pack, many of them watching her with open curiosity, their eyes darting back and forth between her and Roland. None appeared hostile, their gaze more inquisitive than disapproving.

  Roland was oblivious to everything but Natasha, her small hand warm and rough in his much larger one. She held his hand lightly, not trying to take back her fingers even after they entered the trees.

  The path leading from the den was wide and well-worn, the brush kept back by constant use. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, playing a game of light and shadow as they made their way east, quickly moving deeper into Nafarius' territory.

  Walking ahead of Natasha, Roland kept up a steady pace, his long legs eating up the distance. She had to admit that she was enjoying the view. The man had a seriously spectacular ass. Natasha wondered what it would be like to unwrap that denim-encased package. She would want to take it slow, she decided, peeling back the wrapping to expose the surprise inside.

  Distracted, Natasha failed to notice the path growing narrow and tripped over an exposed root. She reached out to stop her fall, her hand landing on the small of Roland's back.

  Roland tensed at the touch, the heat of her hand branding him through his shirt.

  "Are you alright?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder without stopping.

  "Yep," Natasha answered quickly, her face flushing as she snatched her hand back. "Just a little sore."

  Roland swore. "Sorry, I didn't stop and think." The path led them east with a subtle vertical gain, one that a healthy werewolf would barely notice. But Natasha was healing, her body straining to repair damage that would have laid a human up for months.

  "I'm okay," Natasha said, and she was. The walk was doing her good. The last thing she wanted was to be cooped up inside somewhere, left alone with her thoughts.

  Roland looked back over his shoulder. Natasha had withdrawn her hand and stood watching him. Her face was flushed an attractive pink from exertion but she didn't appear to be struggling with the climb.

  Satisfied with what he saw, Roland nodded and turned back to the path. "We're almost there."

  Natasha followed Roland for another few minutes in comfortable silence. He didn't seem inclined to talk or ask questions, which she appreciated. But she liked the sound of his voice, the slight lilt at the end hinting at his origins.

  "Where are you from?" Natasha asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

  Roland pulled up so fast Natasha slammed into his back, bouncing off and scrambling to keep her feet.

  "Why do you want to know?" Roland didn't reach to steady her, his fists clenched at his sides as he scowled down at her.

  Natasha stared up at Roland and wanted to take back her words. His voice had gone hard, and any evidence of his earlier concern was gone.

  "I...you..." Natasha stuttered. "You have an accent, it made me wonder."

  Roland was quiet for so long Natasha feared he would call an end to their outing, turning them around and taking her back to the pack's den.

  "My original pack settled on the East Coast," Roland said softly, breaking the awkward silence and starting forward once more. Damn, but he didn't want to think about that lot. There wasn't one memory among the many he cared to recall.

  "How
did you end up here?" The question came automatically, Natasha's desire to know Roland overriding that internal filter in her brain that really should be telling her to keep her mouth shut.

  Roland ignored the sudden chill in his bones. She had no way of knowing the images evoked by her innocent question. But telling himself that did little to make Roland feel better. Glancing back over his shoulder, he pointedly looked at the bruises covering Natasha's face and neck. "I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours."

  "Some things are better left unsaid," Natasha said and clamped her mouth shut, her pretty pink lips pressed firmly together.

  "I couldn't agree more," Roland said, stopping. "Besides, we're here."

  Thinking she should apologize, Natasha waited while he stepped from the path, thick muscles shifting beneath his shirt as he pulled back branches and held them aloft.

  Roland took the time to arrange his face into carefully neutral lines. Finally turning only once he knew he presented a blank slate of indifference.

  "I'm sorry," Natasha said, wishing she could take it back. Gone was the lighthearted male that had laughed with his friend and tenderly checked on his pack. "I have a habit of prying."

  Roland nodded as inside he struggled with the memories. "I don't want to go there," he said, referring to his past. "I don't ever want to go back there."

  Roland's words were low and vicious, sending a chill through Natasha as she quickly nodded. As he watched her, she saw something moving behind his eyes, something wild and untamed. None of us are human, but some even less so than others.

  It took considerable effort for Natasha to step past Roland, no doubt he could hear her heart hammering hard against her chest. Her instincts were warning her to get ready to run, experience was telling her she would never make it.

  Stepping carefully, Natasha slowly moved past Roland, surprised when her wolf woke. Wounded and bearing the burden of their healing, Natasha's wolf had been near comatose with exhaustion. But something inside of her stirred, rousing the animal to awareness as she brushed past Roland.

  Hmmm...male...good male, her wolf thought sleepily, sending images and thoughts the animal associated with safety.

  Safe is not an adjective I would use to describe our situation, Natasha told her wolf. That hit to the head must have been harder than she thought.

  Roland smelled wolf, the scent wafting up to entice his senses as Natasha passed beneath his nose. In response, Roland's wolf lunged, slipping to the end of his tether and surging to the surface.

  We both want her, he realized, surprised as his wolf strained for release. His wolf hadn't wanted a female since...in a very long time. The animal treated Roland's occasional romps with a female as a weakness, withdrawing to wait out the encounter. It was the only time the animal ever truly stilled and went silent.

  Not trusting the animal's reaction to Natasha, Roland ruthlessly clamped down on his wolf. Not surprising, the animal struggled, fighting to get free before finally settling down to pace. Roland had learned to live with the animal's constant motion, finding his only escape in sleep.

  "Oh, wow." Natasha whispered in awe, unaware of the struggle taking place behind her. After stepping past Roland, she'd found herself standing at the edge of heaven.

  Carved by a retreating glacier, the valley was steep, with sheer, tree-covered cliffs, and rock-faced mountains. Evidence of recent rock slides littered the valley floor, while high above, mountain peaks were perpetually capped with snow.

  "It's beautiful," Natasha whispered at the majestic peace of the place. Unbidden, tears tightened behind her eyes, the pressure building until they spilled over and slipped down her cheeks.

  Not here. Natasha angrily brushed at her cheeks. I will not break down, not here and not in front of this male.

  Leaving Roland behind, Natasha stalked to the edge of the cliff. The wind was rushing up from the valley below, whipping her hair into a frenzy around her face. Fists clenched, she stared down into the the craggy depths below. Inside she felt just as empty, a jagged hole where her pack used to be.

  "If you're thinking of jumping, I wouldn't," Roland said from behind her. "It's a long way down, too much time to change your mind."

  "I don't want to jump," Natasha said. No, suicide wasn't in her nature. "Scream, maybe, but not jump."

  "So scream," Roland said, his voice suggesting the answer was obvious. "There's no one to hear but me."

  Natasha shook her head and went back to staring out across the valley.

  Roland watched her and knew that he'd been right to bring her here. She was a lot like this place with its rugged beauty and stark landscape. As she stood reigning over it all, he was reminded of the warrior princesses of lore. Women that were battle weary but never broken.

  She's strong, but injured and he knew what could happen to a wound left to fester.

  "I went feral," he told her, his voice quiet so as not to dispel the magic of the place. He wasn't surprised when she spun around to look at him. "I was betrayed and left to die," he said. Roland stopped, swallowing hard. "What was left of me, the part that survived..."

  There hadn't been much of him left when Nafarius found him. Some days he wondered if it wouldn't have been better if the alpha had left him to die.

  "Let it out," he urged, "before the shit kills you...or worse."

  Natasha stared at Roland. She had sensed something wild in him but never, not for one moment, had she suspected that he'd gone feral. Not many werewolves came back from that, the life either turning them into a total animal or killing them.

  "Will you tell me about it?" Natasha asked, thinking of the male Roland was and the animal he had once been and comparing that to her father. Would knowing what one male had experienced give her peace where her father was concerned?

  Roland searched her face. He knew what Natasha was looking for, but he couldn't give it to her. "No."

  Natasha matched his stare, understanding that he'd said all he was going to.

  Roland waited to see what she would do. A male that had gone feral couldn't be trusted. Natasha had learned that at her father's hand, and there was no coming back. Dimitri would never be the male he once was. Neither would Roland.

  Natasha shivered under Roland's penetrating gaze. He let her see it then, the animal lurking just beneath the surface. He made sure she had no delusions, and offered no reassurance. Feral werewolves were feared, hunted down and killed without question. It was her father's fate, it should have been Roland's as well.

  Natasha made the connection. "Nafarius found you, didn't he?"

  Roland fixed her with a stare.

  It explained a lot. Not the scars, and not the details of what had happened, those were still missing, but what he shared shed some light on Roland's past. She thought over what little she knew of him, mostly rumors and stories that passed between packs, and compared that to what she had seen.

  Roland had rescued her, taking a lone werewolf into his den and tending to her injuries. She'd seen him laugh and watched the way he cared for his pack. She had no doubt he could be ruthless, lethal to any and all that threatened what he considered his, but it was a far cry from the feral lack of recognition she had witnessed in her father.

  Natasha knew Roland was waiting on her, no doubt expecting some form of rejection. Taking a deep breath, she looked him straight in those wild eyes and turned her back.

  Roland blinked. You never, ever turned your back on a werewolf, not unless...She trusts me. Roland's brain wound down, his thoughts suddenly stuck in neutral.

  Humph, his wolf snorted still pacing along Roland's barriers.

  Natasha could feel Roland's surprise, the space between her shoulder blades itching under his stare. Ignoring him for the moment, she scanned the surrounding territory, everything she saw belonging to Nafarius.

  It could have been hers. Not that she really wanted it, or the male that came with it, but her life was to have started here. Instead, a part of her had died in this territory, something
inside of her simply ceasing to exist.

  Natasha wanted it back.

  Taking a deep breath, she tipped her face to the sky and screamed. The sound echoed long and loud across the valley. Startled, nearby birds took flight, bursting from the trees amidst her howl of pain.

  Natasha kept screaming as the weight of her grief bent her body forward, slowly curling in on itself. She kept screaming as her vision dimmed, and spots danced before her eyes, until her scream became a plaintive wail, her legs finally buckling as she fell to her knees, sobbing.

  Roland watched as pain drove Natasha to her knees. He didn't know her well, but everything he did know told him she wasn't easily bowed.

  Slowly, knowing that he approached a wounded animal, Roland knelt behind her. Enfolding her in his embrace, he held her while she cried, gut wrenching sobs that wracked her body and threatened to dislodge him.

  Slowly, her sobs subsided, her body growing heavy in his arms as she rested her head against his chest.

  "I tried to kill my father," she told him quietly.

  "I know," Roland said, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. He couldn't remember the last time he'd held a female simply to offer her comfort.

  "I failed and he nearly killed me for it." She spoke softly, the horror of it eased a bit with the sharing. "He broke..."

  She stumbled over the memory of her arm breaking, the bone snapping like kindling. Her father's face had been a twisted mix of wolf and man as he stood over her. Rage had turned his eyes yellow and spittle had dripped from his chin, landing on her face.

  "That wasn't your father," Roland said. "Not anymore."

  "I know," Natasha said, quietly. "But..."

  "But what?" Roland asked, when she grew quiet.

  "That just makes it more tragic," she said. "And so much harder to hate him."

  "No one expects you to hate him," Roland said. "What's happening to your father is tragic. No male should be left to suffer like that."

  "It has to be quick and painless," she demanded, thinking of Nafarius' offer to put her father down. "I know I have no right to ask, but he's still my father...even if I'm no longer pack," Natasha whispered, saying the words, trying them out for the first time.