by Bonnie Vanak
“The cabin is about quarter of a mile north. Follow me!” She dug her heels into her mare’s flanks.
She took off at a gallop, hearing him close the distance behind her. Nia gulped down fear as they rode. The winds seemed far away, kicking up fallen leaves and dust on the horizon. Miniature tornadoes swirled and bounced in the distance.
Now the sounds echoed over the sweeping pasture, and she could see the wind.
Swirling colors of purple, magenta, and deep indigo smoke swept through the dry grasses. Beyond the pasture, she heard an eerie, distant cry, haunting as a train whistle echoing through the mountain. Terrifying as the approach of a tornado.
And much deadlier.
The second joy of the curse. The Banshee Winds, magick winds that carried the strains of the disease and spread it like dandelion wisps floating through the air.
Nia spotted the cabin with its adjacent stable large enough to accommodate four horses. She’d ensured it would withstand the weather when she’d had the cabin wired for electricity and built the stable.
After losing her male cousin to the Banshee Winds, she never wanted anyone to be caught out here without protection.
“Hurry,” she cried out, pulling Windstorm to a halt and jumping off.
But Rickie had already slid off Chance and grabbed the stallion’s reins. “We have to take care of the horses!” he screamed.
Aiden slid off his mount and let Rickie run toward the barn as Nia followed, her heart pounding hard. She could taste the metallic stench of blood in the air that heralded the magick winds arrival, sense the whirling, sharpened pieces of obsidian rock embedded into the winds eager to scrape and cut and hurt. If they were caught outside, she would bleed.
But Aiden would die and Rickie would sicken and eventually die as well.
Aiden opened the barn door as Rickie led his stallion inside and Nia followed. They stabled the horses and ran outside. Nia closed the door firmly. The Banshee Winds hadn’t affected the livestock, but with the new mutation affecting the wildlife, she wasn’t taking chances.
A low howl cut the air, making them both wince.
“What the hell is it?” Aiden demanded.
Nia grabbed Rickie’s hand. The boy practically tugged her toward the cabin.
“Come on, come on, let’s go!” he screamed.
Aiden didn’t ask another question. Instead, he herded them toward the cabin. The eerie howling grew closer, stabbing her sensitive Lupine eardrums like knives. Warmth trickled down her cheeks. Her ears bled from the horrible wind’s high-pitched squeals.
They reached the cabin, but she could feel the wind at her back, know it had come for her, would make her hurt.
Rickie tripped and fell. The wind was nearly upon him, and it would cut him until he died.
Terror lodged in her throat and for a moment she could not breathe. If she died, so be it, but Rickie was young and he needed to live. Deserved to live.
“Aiden,” she screamed, her voice high and reedy. “Help him!”
Aiden picked the boy up, flung open the door and threw Rickie inside. Mitchell understood. The welfare of the children always came first. Always.
Then he turned, grabbed her by the waist and pushed her inside as the wind battered him. Aiden raced into the cabin, slammed the door as the wind hit it with a furious howl. He leaned against it, struggling to keep it closed.
Nia pressed her weight against it as well, and slammed the thick oak bar down in place. Aiden straightened, narrowing his eyes as he quickly scanned the cabin, as if assessing it for danger.
“The windows,” he began. “We should shutter them.”
“We’re safe now.” She braced her hands on her knees, panting. “The winds can’t touch us here because they can’t sense us. The windows are strong.”
The cabin had a living room with a fireplace and a faded sofa set before it. Rickie perched on the sofa, shaking, his hands wrapped around his middle.
He was crying, and trying hard to hide it.
The children came first. She went over to join him as the sky darkened to indigo and the winds pushed with shrieking force at the cabin.
“You’re okay, sweetie. You’re safe.”
Rickie pulled away, his lower lip jutting out as he hung his head. She understood, could feel the shame radiating from him. Dear gods, the kid was only 12 and he was ashamed of being afraid of losing his life.
No child should have to harbor fear like that.
She pointed to Rickie. Aiden sat next to him, giving him a solemn look. “You okay, big guy?”
Rickie managed a nod.
Aiden released a deep breath. “Glad you’re holding it together, because I was damn scared.”
The boy glanced up, his dark eyes wet. “You were? But you’re alpha.”
“Being an alpha doesn’t mean I don’t get scared, especially of magick I can’t control. It means I have to work harder at overcoming my fear, and at doing the right thing.” Aiden gave him a solemn look and scrubbed a hand over the dark stubble on his face. “You’d make a good alpha.”
Rickie narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, right.”
But Aiden nodded.
“Alphas have to look after pack, and on a ranch, it means looking after the livestock. That was some quick thinking, telling us to stable the horses first. You’re a good cowhand.”
Rickie beamed at the praise. He’d stopped shaking. “Really?”
“Really. First rule of the ranch is see to the livestock. You did well.”
“You guys want to make a fire?” Nia suggested. She left them doing so and talking as she went into the tiny kitchen and opened a cupboard door. There was only canned food, but all of it safe to eat. She’d warm stew for dinner and they’d bunk down here.
They would not take chances outside, and risk exposing Aiden and Rickie to the punishing force of the winds.
She poked her head out the kitchen. “There are several cans of stew in the pantry. I’m starting dinner.”
Aiden glanced at the window. “We’ll stay here for the night. When the winds die down, I’ll call Garth and let him know we’re safe.”
“Not necessary. I already told Roxanne we’re here for the night.”
Aiden smiled at Rickie. “Stay by the fire a minute, son. I’ll be right back. Have to have a little chat with your aunt Niki.”
Nia’s heart raced as Aiden joined her in the kitchen, his massive body taking up all the space in the tiny room. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms.
“Level with me, Niki. I want to know what the hell is going on around here. Now.”
Chapter 11
She had survived so much in her 25 years. Nia wondered how she would survive this interrogation by Aiden Mitchell, one of the most feared and ruthless alphas in the west.
She decided to tell a partial truth.
“The Banshee Winds are one reason this ranch has suffered financial ruin. They started about a year ago, and have grown progressively worse.”
Aiden didn’t even blink. “I’ve never heard of such winds. Not in Montana or anywhere else.”
“That’s because they’re confined to a specific geographic area.” She fished in the refrigerator for a bottle of water and uncapped it, drinking deeply. Sighing, she set down the bottle. “My ranch.”
Aiden picked up the bottle, put his lips over it. Such a firm, warm mouth. She watched as he drank, his strong throat muscles working. Aiden finished the bottle and then he wiped his mouth with the back of one hand and tossed the empty into the trash. “Go on.”
“The winds are attracted to places filled with magick and are like a weather system. In the right atmospheric conditions, in this case, the right conditions filled with magick, they converge.”
Nia bit her lip to prevent it from wobbling. “They appear when male Lupines have just experienced their first shift, for those males have the new, powerful magick of their wolves. The winds killed my cousin Ivan shortly after his first change.”
His expression softened. “I’m sorry, pixie.”
Nia stared at the darkened window, willing herself to remain strong. Gods, how many times had she refrained from grieving because she had to be strong for her people, for the pack’s children, and be the leader everyone thought she was?
“He was a good kid. Ivan had just turned 13. He was such an optimist, so upbeat we nicknamed him Happy. He was running as wolf near here when the winds came down the mountain, and he was caught in the open.”
Ivan had been reckless, and refused to listen to reason. Filled with confidence, he’d gone riding, and planned to run over the fields as wolf.
Nia squeezed her hands, her nails biting into the tender skin of her palms. “We found his body a day later. Ivan was dead, cut to ribbons. His face…”
She closed her eyes, trying to recall the smiling boy who had placed his trust in her, that she would find a cure for this damn disease.
Aiden stepped close, pulled her into his arms. He said nothing, only stroked a hand down the curve of her spine. It felt so good to be held. But her composure hung by a thin thread. Nia scrubbed her faced with her hands and stepped away from her mate.
“I had the cabin reinforced and wired for electricity for those riding on the range in winter, and for anyone caught by the Banshee Winds. The winds, as far as we can tell, only target adult males or males approaching puberty. The Lupines killed by the winds were all adult males. Females aren’t killed, but you can get hurt, sliced by tornadic activity. The winds kill the males by settling on him until he dies.”
Aiden didn’t let her put distance between them. He stepped close, stroking a thumb over the scar on her face. “Is that where you got this?”
Startled, she nodded. “The winds have attacked here twice before. I got caught in the first storm, looking for Ivan. I didn’t get too badly hurt because I got to this cabin in time. I did get cut, and it took a long time to heal, and then it scarred.”
Lupines seldom bore scars. They had amazing healing powers. But not when faced with a terrible wind that destroyed with such brutal force.
Nia flipped on the wall switch. Warm, welcoming light flooded the cabin, the glow settling her raw nerves. A small table and chairs took up most of the space beneath a bank of windows next to the postage-sized kitchen.
Aiden turned and began to investigate the contents of the kitchen. Nia’s jaw dropped.
“You’re bleeding!”
She raced over to him, and looked at the three slashes on his shirt. “Take off your shirt.”
“As the lady commands,” he murmured, but shrugged out of it.
On the thick muscles of his back were three distinct lines caused by the winds, all oozing blood. Fear surged in her throat. Nia found a dishtowel and wet it. “I have to disinfect these.”
“I’m fine. They’ve already stopped bleeding.”
Sure enough, he was right and the cut had begun to close, testifying to the enormous healing power of a natural born alpha. Nia reached up and kissed the scabs, her mouth trembling.
If Aiden hadn’t thrown Rickie inside, the child might be dead by now.
Aiden turned around, his gaze solemn. “You okay, pixie?”
She nodded, managed to regain her composure. “There are a few shirts and other clothing in the bedroom. See if you can find something that fits. The magnificent sight of your naked chest threatens to bring me to my knees.”
He grinned. “Sounds like my wildest dreams, except there’s a young child in the house.”
When he left, she found a box of instant cocoa and started boiling water. Rickie would need something hot and soothing after what happened.
She poured two mugs, and set them at the kitchen table and called Rickie over as Aiden returned to the room buttoning a blue chambray work shirt. The shirt was slightly tight, and stretched over his thick shoulders and bulging biceps. He winked at her and joined Rickie at the table.
Then she began to heat up the cans of stew on the stove.
Aiden leaned back against the chair, watching Rickie drink the hot treat. He sipped his, his gaze thoughtful.
“I’ll set the table,” Aiden told her.
He began, hunting through the cabinets for bowls. His long, strong fingers brushed against her hand as she stirred the stew. The heat of sexual awareness made her shiver and she drew in a deep breath, struggling with a sudden surge of want.
A short while later, she poured the stew into the bowls Aiden had set upon the table.
Suddenly ravenous, Nia spooned up her meal. She’d been used to this kind of fare for a while, since the pack couldn’t afford fresh meat and game was scarce in the woods.
“Aiden, you’re not hungry?” she asked.
Something wild and dangerous flashed in his gaze. “Not for stew. I’ll satisfy my appetite later.”
With you, that heated glance added.
After dinner, Nia found Rickie a pair of pajamas that had belonged to Ivan. A lump in her throat, she gave them to the boy and joined Aiden in the living room.
When Rickie emerged in the hallway, they escorted him into the bedroom. Hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, Aiden watched as she tucked Rickie under the covers.
Rickie looked at Aiden with wide eyes. “Is it safe here? Will the bad thing get me here?”
“You’re safe, son. I won’t let anything happen to you,” Aiden assured him.
“But you can’t stop the disease, even though you’re an alpha. Uncle Ed tried, but it got him, too, in the end.”
The alpha sucked in a breath and glanced at her. But he went to Rickie and touched his head. “Don’t worry about that now, Rick. Get some sleep.”
Rickie gave a huge yawn. “Good night.”
Nia went into the living room, listening to the storm outside. Her stomach knotted as she thought about how they might have been caught outside. She’d been so focused on riding Windstorm and having fun she’d forgotten to remain alert. If not for Aiden’s warning…
He went behind her, slid his arms around her waist. “It’s going to be okay, pixie.”
But despite his reassurances, she could not relax. They sat near the fireplace, listening to the howling winds. Finally the keening wails slowed, and then died to a whisper. And then, blessed silence.
Raising her head, she listened.
In the distance, a bird sang, and the horses in the shed whinnied.
“It’s safe now. The storm has passed. It won’t be back.’
“How can you be sure?”
“It’s the nature of the winds. They arrive, target a Lupine, and then leave. They won’t be back for a long time.”
She looked at him. “I’ll go out and water the horses. There’s a little hay for them. I use the stables as a storage place for hay for the winter months. Can you please stay here with Rickie in case he has nightmares?”
Aiden nodded.
When Niki returned, Aiden gave his mate a long look, his temper simmering. Secrets and more secrets. And she wasn’t opening up and sharing any information with him.
Now was the perfect time to talk with her, make her confess.
But seeing the smudges of exhaustion and her slumped shoulders, his anger faded. He didn’t have the heart to pry her with questions now. She needed a real meal. She’d been so busy caring for everyone else, she didn’t care for herself.
That was his job.
When they returned to the lodge, he’d demand answers.
“Are you sure the winds are gone?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Okay. Stay here, bolt the door after me. I’m going hunting to find you fresh meat.”
As she opened her mouth, he gave her a stern look. “No arguing.”
“The wildlife could be affected by that fungus that Darius found on the deer.”
“I’ll be careful. If there’s disease, my wolf can detect it.” He frowned. “I don’t like leaving you here alone, unprotected.”
Niki went to a kitchen cabinet, and brought back
a small safe. She dialed the combination and fished out a handgun. “I’m not unprotected. I can take care of myself.”
He left her loading bullets into the gun. Aiden went outside and shifted into wolf, relishing the feel of power rushing through his body. His senses exploded, his sight sharpened as the moonlight draped the land. He raced into the woods, listening for the sounds of wildlife. A soft wind rustled in the overhead pine boughs, but other than the wind, the forest was quiet. Odd how the winds targeted Lupines, but left the forest and the cabin untouched.
Surely on this land there must be a rabbit or other game he could flush out.
He loped through the forest, scenting the ground, and caught the days old of smell of rabbit. Aiden padded through the woods, following the trail.
He headed east until reaching a small clearing in the forest, about one quarter of a mile behind the cabin. His wolf whined, not liking this glen. It smelled of dark magick and power. But the rabbit was close and he salivated for the kill.
Aiden spotted a flick of movement and prowled forward, the tasty scent of rabbit flooding his nostrils. Suddenly another glimmer of movement.
A silver wolf emerged from the forest. Aiden growled, his fur on edge, every sense surging to protect his territory and his mate and the young back in the cabin.
But then his nostrils flared as he caught the wolf’s scent. Man and wolf struggled for control as wolf wanted to charge forward and attack. Man won out, for Aiden knew this wolf.
He kept a respectful distance, but a wary eye on the intruder, knowing the wolf could shift into a wizard at any moment.
The silver wolf lowered his head sniffed a nearby tree. Then he looked at Aiden and wagged his tail. Suddenly he lifted his head and began to chase.
Rabbit. Two rabbits. Both healthy. Aiden followed, tracking the rabbit on the left, ignoring the other wolf. They chased the rabbits for a short distance. The kill was swift and merciful. Kill in his mouth, Aiden loped back to the glen and dropped the rabbit. Suddenly ravenous, he ate, keeping an eye on the silver wolf. The wolf did not eat.
Instead, as Aiden finished, the silver wolf trotted over to Aiden and dropped the rabbit at his feet. He wagged his tail.