paneling on the walls and lack of
windows made the room even more
confining. Maralee glanced around. She
could
smell
food—bacon
and
griddlecakes if she wasn’t mistaken—but
didn’t see any signs of it.
“Ah, there you be, miss,” the
innkeeper said. “I was about to come after
you again.”
“I’m sorry I’m so late. I couldn’t
figure out how to drain the bathtub.”
“Don’t worry about that none. The
maid will tend to it. Have a seat, the wife
will bring your breakfast.”
Maralee smiled and sat down in one of
the worn, wooden chairs. “Thank you.”
True to the innkeeper’s word, his wife
bustled out of a swinging door at the far
end of the dining closet, carrying a pitcher
of milk and plates overflowing with food.
She was a woman of ample hips and
ample cheer. She squeezed between the
pair of tables and set the food down
before Maralee. The woman brushed stray
strands of graying hair from her flushed
cheeks and gazed down at Maralee with a
warm and inviting smile.
“It’s nice to have a guest for a
change,” she said, blue eyes twinkling.
“Ever since those rumors about the
Wolves spread, we haven’t had many
travelers through these parts. Doesn’t
seem to matter to folks that we’ve never
had a death from a Wolf attack in these
parts.”
“And I’m here to make sure that’s
always the case,” Maralee said, her
stomach growling now that food was
within reach.
“We are happy you agreed to come,”
she said. “There be a Wolf out there
howling right now. Been carrying on all
morning.”
“Wolves howling during the day?” In
her experience, the Wolves disappeared
between full moons. Perhaps the howling
wolf was a common variety, but those did
not typically howl in the morning hours
either.
“I’ve never heard anything like it.”
“Thank you for the fine breakfast,”
Maralee said, hoping to dissuade the
woman from further conversation. Maybe
if the howling Wolf turned out to be one
she ceaselessly hunted, she could increase
her death tally to two, instead of wasting
four weeks waiting for the pack to return.
“If you be needing second helpin’s,
give a holler.” The innkeeper’s wife
bustled back into the kitchen.
Like a starving beggar, Maralee
polished off a plate of griddlecakes and
several pieces of bacon. She slurped
down half a glass of milk and hurried back
up to her room to collect her boots, cloak,
and most importantly, her sword. Not
bothering to fashion her waist-length hair
in its usual knot, she exited the inn, paused
in the lane just outside, and listened for
the Wolf. Sure enough, a mournful howl
echoed from deep within the forest. The
sound of it stole her breath. Haunting.
Almost anguished. She followed its echo,
traveling the narrow streets to the place
where she had slain the Wolf the night
before.
On the edge of the road, she noticed a
pair of men examining the door of a
familiar shed.
“It’s strange, Stan. The door’s all
busted up, but nothing’s missing.”
“Probably some bored kids looking
for trouble,” Stan commented.
“There are Wolf prints everywhere.
Do you think they could have done this?”
Stan chuckled. “Only if one can lift an
ax.” He lifted the ax in question and
examined it for... What? Claw marks?
The other man sighed. “Well, this door
won’t fix itself. I’ll give you a hand.”
When they noticed Maralee watching
them, the heat of a guilty blush crept up
her cheeks. They grinned, offering her a
friendly wave. She nodded at them and
hurried into the woods.
Once inside the forest, she paused,
listening for the cry of the Wolf in the
distance. It howled again, the sound
somber and chilling. Maralee rushed
forward, her hand on the hilt of her sword
as she hunted the monsters that haunted her
dreams.
The Wolf howled again and she
continued to follow the sound until she
was
deep
within
the
woods.
Unexpectedly, the Wolf’s baying ceased
and Maralee stopped, glancing around.
She had been so preoccupied with
following the Wolf’s voice, she hadn’t
paid attention to her course. Her heart
thrummed with panic, but then she
shrugged. Lost was lost. Might as well
continue her search. She could use the
angle of the sun to find her way back to the
village later. She hoped. As desolate as
the place was, it would be easy to miss it.
Maralee decided to continue on her
path, optimistic that she’d stumble across
the Wolf eventually. It was almost half an
hour later, when she did come across
someone. Not a Wolf.
Nash.
He was curled up on a mound of soft
dirt beneath an enormous tree fast asleep.
Despite the traces of snow on the forest
floor, he was naked.
Maralee forgot how to blink. Frozen in
place, she was unable force her eyes from
Nash’s sculpted body. She drank in the
sight of his lean, muscular form,
appreciating her unobstructed view of his
long limbs, firm buttocks, and smooth
back. As if aware of his captive audience,
he changed positions in his sleep. She
gasped as her glorious view of his naked
backside
transformed
into
a
more
shocking sight. Her hand flew up to cover
her mouth, but still she stared. No question
—men were definitely different in that
area. He didn’t look anything like she’d
imagined. She expected human male parts
to be like those of an animal—concealed.
He was so, well…so, out there. Not just
those things, but also the other thing. The
elongated part was, um, exposed. All of it
—exposed. And riveting. Maralee forgot
how to exhale.
Nash shivered and curled his legs
closer to his chest.
Releasing her breath, she tore her gaze
from his body and noticed his heap of
clothing beneath the tree. What was he
doing here anyway? She had already
decided he was strange, but why would
anyone sleep naked, on the ground, in the
middle of winter?
Maralee approached his discarded
clothes. Wouldn
’t want him to freeze to
death. Though as hot as she was all of a
sudden, there was no chance of her ever
freezing.
Maralee
retrieved
Nash’s
brown, leather trench coat and oh so
carefully spread it over his naked body.
His eyes flipped open.
Heart in her throat, Maralee stumbled
backwards.
His eyes widened when they focused
on her. He sat up abruptly. “What in the
hell are you doing here?”
“I…I…” Her face burst into flames of
embarrassment. Avoiding his stare, her
gaze dropped to his bare chest, then flat
stomach, and lap. His coat hindered her
view, but she knew what was beneath the
garment. The sight was permanently
etched in her memory.
He pulled his coat into a more secure
position. She glanced up and met his eyes.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t see anything.”
No, sir. I saw every thing.
“How did you find this place?” His
attention shifted to the rest of his clothes
well out of reach.
“I followed the sound of a howling
Wolf.”
Nash lowered his eyes. “I really am
messing things up,” he said under his
breath.
“Why are you naked?” she blurted.
He looked up at her again, and locked
gazes with her. “Why wouldn’t I be
naked? It’s my natural state, is it not?”
The heat of embarrassment spread
across Maralee’s face once more. She
was certain her eyebrows were singed.
“It’s…it’s cold.” She waved a hand
around to call his attention to their frigid
surroundings.
“I am well aware of that.” He stood
and reached for his clothes.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him as
he bent to retrieve his undergarment,
brown leather pants, thick, cream-colored
sweater and woolen socks. A slow smile
spread across her face. Nice. Who knew
men could be beautiful? This one was
probably the most beautiful thing she’d
ever laid eyes on. Or was handsome a
better descriptor? Virile? Lithe? Perfect...
Nash waited for her eyes to stray from
his body to his face before he spoke. “Are
you going to stand there and watch me
dress?”
“I…uh…no, of course not!”
In an exaggerated whirl, she turned her
back, crossed her arms over her chest, and
waited for him to return to decency. She
closed her eyes, ears straining for the
sounds of him dressing. She wondered if
his skin felt different from hers. It looked
different. More coarse. Maybe she should
have touched him when she’d had the
chance. To see what his body felt like.
Whoa, Maralee! Why did this man make
her think such naughty things? She patted
her cheeks, willing them to cool, so she
could face him without looking like a fool.
His deep voice startled her. “You’ve
seen me naked, and yet, I still don’t know
your name.”
“My
name…My
name…” Name?
What’s my name? “It’s…it’s Maralee.”
“Mary Lee.”
“No, Mara lee,” she corrected. “One
word. The M- A- R rhymes with bar or tar
or star or…” She realized she was
blabbering.
“You can look now, Maralee.” The
way he said her name was like a gentle
caress to the back of her neck. She stifled
a shudder.
Maralee didn’t really want to turn
around, but decided he would think she
was a coward if she did not. And no one
thought of her as a coward. She refused to
allow it. She faced him and found him
much closer than expected. She forced
herself not to take a step backward and
craned her neck to stare up at him. He was
definitely gorgeous. His jaw was strong
and chin slightly squared. His lips were
narrow; nose slender and straight. Thick
lashes framed wide, intelligent eyes. The
lock of pristine white hair that draped
across his left eye gave him a mysterious
look, and his aura—all danger and power
—made her heart pound, not with fear, but
something she could not define. She
wanted something when she looked at him.
Wanted… She didn’t know what she
wanted. Something. There was sadness
behind his golden gaze and she wondered
about its cause. Was he still mourning the
death of that vile Wolf? She suddenly
remembered she wanted to give him a
tongue-lashing.
“How dare you lock me in a shed like
some sort of criminal!” The abrupt change
in her demeanor made him flinch. “I told
you I didn’t need your assistance, I had a
job to do, and you purposely intruded
upon my work. What made you think you
could take charge of me? Is it because I’m
female? If that’s the case then let me
assure you I can take care of myself as
well as, if not better than, any man.”
“I still haven’t decided what I’m going
to do with you,” he said quietly.
“And what, exactly, is that supposed to
mean?”
“I’m trying really hard to hate you,” he
said, “but I find I want to kiss you
instead.”
Her expression must have given away
her astonishment, because Nash laughed—
a gentle sound that did strange things to the
tips of her breasts.
“I know it’s shocking,” he said. A
brief smile graced his lips, which made
Maralee’s heart thunder in her chest. “I
think I’ll take you to my village. It’s best if
I keep an eye on you. Keep your friends
close, and your enem—”
“Why would you need to keep an eye
on me?”
He looked down at her and their eyes
met. Her mind went completely blank for
a moment as he held her gaze with his. It
was as if he had some strange power to
make her lose her train of thought. He
broke eye contact and, after a moment, she
remembered what she had wanted to say.
“I don’t want to go back to the
village,” she said. “I’m trying to find the
Wolf I heard.”
“You won’t find what you’re looking
for here.” He took her elbow and led her
forward.
She found it difficult to concentrate on
his words. He kept saying things that
hinted he knew something about the
Wolves that he wasn’t telling her. Did he
know where they lived? In all her years of
hunting, she’d never come across a Wolf
in its natural habitat. She only encountered
them when they arrived at a human
settlement on
the night of a full moon.
Maralee was very conscious of Nash’s
strong hand, which rested lightly on her
elbow, and only mildly aware that they
were moving away from Sarbough, not
towards it.
“That Wolf must be nearby. I heard it
howling all the way from the village.”
“Probably not the smartest thing that
Wolf has ever done.”
He talked about the Wolves as if he
knew them personally. “You are the most
confusing man I have ever met.”
“Understandable,” he said. “The
Wolf’s long gone. Maybe I could help you
find him later.” As they walked side by
side to wherever he’d decided to go, he
took a long strand of her hair and held it
up to his nose to inhale its scent. “Did you
wash your hair?” he asked.
She gaped at him. “What kind of a
question is that?”
He glanced down at her. “You smell
different today.”
S h e smelled different? Would this
man’s list of oddities ever cease to
lengthen? Before she could say another
word, a cabin appeared between the trees.
She stared at it as they passed, wondering
if Nash was a woodsman, but when she
turned her head, she noticed more cabins
scattered throughout the forest. From
between the cabins, in the shadows of the
crowding trees, dozens of pairs of amber-
colored eyes stared out at her. They
belonged to the most beautiful children
Maralee had ever seen. The children
seemed too afraid to approach, but one
small girl, with hair an unusual dark gray
color, separated from the shadows. Her
small rabbit-fur boots crunched through
the snow as she came closer.
“Who is this, Uncle Nash?” she asked,
staring up at Maralee curiously. Her
golden eyes were sad and rimmed with
red as if she’d been crying.
Nash released Maralee’s elbow and
bent to scoop up the girl. He stood,
holding her up to adult level. The child sat
in the crook of his arm as he introduced
her. “This is Maralee. She’s here for a
short visit.”
“What is your name?” Maralee asked.
The girl cuddled closer to her uncle,
clinging to his sweater. “She smells
funny.”
Nash smiled and took a strand of
Maralee’s long hair between his fingers.
“It’s a fragrance in her hair.” The girl
gave a hesitant sniff before turning her
face against Nash’s shoulder. Nash
stroked her narrow back and looked at
Maralee. “Her name is Carsha,” Nash
said, and then set the girl to her feet.
“That’s a pretty name,” Maralee said,
Defying Destiny Page 3