Defying Destiny

by Olivia Downing

to ensure no one was watching and untied

  the laces at the fly of her pants. Shivering

  with cold, she wished she’d remembered

  to put on her cloak before venturing

  outside. Once she had finished relieving

  herself, she readjusted her clothing and

  headed back for the cabin, looking

  forward to the warmth of the fire. She

  found her progress hindered, however, by

  three enormous, snarling Wolves.

  CHAPTER 5

  Maralee’s hand moved automatically to

  the sword hilt at her belt and found

  nothing but empty space. The center Wolf

  —a

  large,

  dark

  brown

  creature—

  advanced

  on

  her,

  baring

  sharp,

  carnivorous fangs. He growled and barked

  at her until she backed away. The cabin

  appeared against her back. Trapped and

  unarmed, she had no chance of survival.

  Her heart seized in her chest.

  “Go away,” she tried, waving her

  hands at the Wolf. “Shoo!”

  The Wolf seemed to smile at her as if

  it knew she was defenseless. It took

  another step closer and Maralee began to

  inch sideways along the wall. Another of

  the Wolves appeared next to her. It

  snapped at her ankle to stop her from

  proceeding. She emitted a squeak of

  terror. The third Wolf circled around to

  her opposite side and sank down low to

  the

  ground,

  growling

  a

  warning.

  Surrounded with no sword at her hip,

  she’d never felt more naked. The center

  Wolf, who seemed to be in charge of the

  small band, leapt forward. It hit her

  shoulders with its massive paws and

  slammed her back against the cabin.

  Holding her pinned to the wall, the Wolf

  growled in her face, its lips curled, nose

  wrinkled, breath hot and moist against her

  cheek. She was too terrified to scream or

  even draw breath.

  “Maralee, are you all right out there?

  What’s taking so long?” Nash’s heavenly

  voice sounded from the side of the house.

  “Nash!” she managed to scream.

  As Nash rounded the building, the

  three Wolves swiveled their heads in his

  direction. He didn’t even raise his voice

  and they scattered with their tails between

  their legs. A sharp pain pierced her

  shoulder as the Wolf pinning her to the

  wall scratched her in its haste to flee.

  “What in the hell?” Nash muttered,

  watching the three Wolves disappear into

  the darkness with narrowed eyes. He

  rushed over to Maralee who staring up at

  the waning gibbous moon rising above the

  trees. Not full. Where had they come

  from? And why had they attacked

  unprovoked?

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, touching her

  face.

  “I think so,” she said shakily. “My

  shoulder.”

  He glanced down at the red stain

  spreading across her white shirt above her

  collarbone. “You’re bleeding,” he said,

  touching the wound with trembling fingers.

  “What were they thinking?”

  By ‘they’, Maralee assumed he meant

  the three hungry Wolves that had tried to

  eat her.

  “That I look tasty?” She laughed

  nervously.

  “I’m sure that’s not it,” he murmured.

  “I’ll have to go after them, but first we

  need to get you inside and treat your

  wound.”

  Go after them? What did he think he

  could do against three malicious Wolves?

  He wrapped an arm around her back

  and urged her forward. She stumbled on

  wobbly knees. Without a shred of

  hesitation, Nash scooped her up into his

  arms and carried her towards the front

  door.

  “This isn’t necessary,” she said,

  though she clung to him and snuggled into

  his warmth. “If I’d had my sword—”

  “You would have killed those boys,”

  Nash said. “Do you really think that’s the

  answer?”

  “If you hadn’t shown up, they would

  have killed me. I have a right to defend

  myself!”

  “If they wanted to kill you, you’d

  already be dead,” he said. “Still, I can’t

  let them get away with this.”

  He carried her into the house and set

  her down near the fire on the bearskin rug.

  His fingers found the buttons of her shirt

  and began unfastening them. She caught his

  hand.

  “What do you think you are doing?”

  she sputtered.

  “Treating your wound.”

  He stared at her for a moment and her

  hand dropped. He finished unbuttoning her

  shirt, pushed the fabric from her shoulder,

  and looked at the wound. Blood leaked

  from three parallel gashes. Maralee was

  more concerned that her bustier was in

  plain view, but his eyes did not stray to

  the curve of her breasts swelling above

  her underclothes. She squelched her

  disappointment. Proper young ladies

  didn’t want men to ogle their partial

  nakedness. Did they?

  “This is pretty deep,” he said, touching

  the area just beside the three long

  scratches that marred her skin.

  “It’s not bad,” she said breathlessly.

  He didn’t respond, but instead

  lowered his head and drew his tongue

  over the wound.

  Maralee stiffened. “What are you

  doing?”

  “This needs to be cleaned.” He

  glanced up at her with concern.

  He can’t be serious.

  She stared at him, too shocked to

  voice a complaint. He lowered his head

  again, lapped up the excess blood, and

  then licked the wound with slow, gentle,

  methodical strokes. He continued until the

  painful sting had lessened to nothing and

  the bleeding had stopped. Maralee was

  lost in the feel of his tongue against her

  flesh. Her breasts felt oddly heavy, their

  tips taut with need. She wondered what

  his tongue would feel like against her

  nipples and shuddered.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, looking up

  at her again.

  Couldn’t he tell she was on fire? She

  moved away from him, flushing with

  embarrassment. “I’m all right,” she said,

  turning her back to him. She gripped the

  sides of her shirt before her, hiding the

  evidence of her arousal.

  “I’ll be gone for a little while,” he

  said and climbed to his feet.

  She looked up at him, her eyes on his

  mouth, which was capable of so many

  wondrous things.

  “Don’t leave me alone.” She wanted

  him to stay. To give her more pleasure

 
; with his tongue.

  He knelt down beside her and cupped

  her cheek. “You’re safe in the house,” he

  assured her, obviously misunderstanding

  her plea. “I won’t be gone long.”

  He kissed her forehead with the same

  type of affection he bestowed on his young

  niece and then stood to go to the door.

  “Nash?”

  “Stay in the house, Maralee,” he

  demanded.

  He left. Maralee sighed forlornly and

  stared at the fire unseeingly. He could

  have stayed with her and kissed her like

  before. She wouldn’t have minded.

  Instead, he’d gone to search for three

  ferocious Wolves. What exactly did he

  think he could do about them anyway? Did

  he think they were his pets? These weren’t

  docile, domesticated dogs. They were

  beasts. Vicious monsters.

  “Fool,” she whispered, “he’ll end up

  getting himself killed.” Maybe she should

  have gone with him. But what good could

  she do without her sword? He’ll regret

  taking it from me. And she would get it

  back. Soon. She wasn’t sure what it was

  about Nash that made her so complacent.

  CHAPTER 6

  Nash moved to the corner of the porch and

  removed his clothing, glancing back at his

  front door to make sure Maralee wasn’t

  watching.

  Once

  naked,

  he

  shifted

  effortlessly into his other form and jumped

  from the porch. The blackness of his pelt

  blended in perfectly with the darkened

  forest. If not for the white crescent on his

  forehead, he would have been practically

  invisible. He went to the corner post and

  lifted his leg, not knowing why he had the

  sudden urge to mark his territory, but

  succumbing to the need regardless. He

  repeated the action on the other end of the

  porch and then trotted towards the stream

  where he guessed he’d find Maralee’s

  attackers.

  As expected, the three young Wolves

  were sitting beside the stream with

  several adolescent females. Apparently,

  they thought they’d displayed their

  budding masculinity by cornering the

  enemy and frightening her. Zorn, the

  largest and oldest of the three Wolves and

  the one who had scratched Maralee’s

  shoulder, was having his ears licked by

  the female beside him. Nash’s eyes

  narrowed. So, they thought they’d done

  something deserving of praise. If they

  wanted adult treatment, they’d best be

  willing to take responsibility for their

  misdeeds.

  Nash jumped from between the trees.

  He landed on one of the smaller Wolves,

  flattening him with his huge front paws.

  The young Wolf yelped, more surprised

  than hurt, and tried to scramble from

  beneath Nash’s feet. Nash barked at him

  ferociously and the Wolf laid still, in a

  pose of complete submission—head

  between his paws, ears flat against his

  head, tail limp with defeat.

  The three females trotted off to the

  sidelines to watch. This wasn’t their fight,

  but they were obviously curious to see if

  Zorn would challenge the alpha-male.

  The younger of the two remaining

  males, a buff colored Wolf, sprang

  towards Nash, growling and snarling. His

  spunk impressed Nash. It wasn’t often a

  scrawny thirty-five-year-old adolescent

  challenged a full-grown adult. Still, he

  couldn’t be allowed to succeed. Nash rose

  onto his hind legs and hit him in the chest

  with both forepaws. The young Wolf flew

  backwards and landed in the frigid stream

  with a splash.

  Nash watched to make sure he was

  able to drag himself out of the water. Nash

  hadn’t instigated this fight to cause injury,

  but rather to demonstrate dominance.

  While Nash was distracted, Zorn

  jumped on his back, teeth sinking into the

  back of his neck. Nash threw him off and

  turned to face him. Nash’s hackles rose,

  increasing his apparent size, as he

  growled a warning. Snarling, Zorn took a

  step forward, and then, seeming to realize

  he couldn’t win, backed off. To ensure his

  message was perfectly clear, Nash jumped

  on Zorn, pinning him to the ground with

  his body weight. The teen whimpered, but

  didn’t move. After a moment, Nash moved

  away, but Zorn didn’t get up. He was

  expected to retain his pose of submission

  until the victor of the battle left.

  The three females approached Nash at

  once, licking his face, presenting their

  hind ends to him for the customary sniff.

  He didn’t humiliate them by refusing to

  show interest, though he felt none. The

  females were too young. They were not in

  estrous, and though fighting always

  aroused him and any one of the girls

  would have stood still while he sated his

  lust, he wouldn’t take advantage of his

  position in the pack. He sniffed each

  female in turn, exciting them with his

  attention, and then trotted in the direction

  of his cabin.

  Zorn’s voice stopped him. “Why,

  Nash?” he asked, his voice cracking with

  emotion. The boy had reverted to his

  human form and sat, naked, in the traces of

  snow on the stream bank. “Why do you

  care so much about that horrible human?

  She murdered your brother. She killed

  Cort. You should kill her and be done

  with it. If you’re not Wolf enough to do it,

  I will.”

  Nash took his human form as well. He

  wasn’t sure how to make this boy

  understand. “She killed Cort because she

  doesn’t understand us. She is the last of

  the Wolf Hunters. I think if she comes to

  know us, then she will no longer try to

  bring harm to our pack. Maybe she can

  even help with our curse.” Nash’s

  research on the curse hinted at such, but

  wasn’t exactly clear on the how or why.

  For years, he’d try to convince the pack

  that the Hunters were the key to their

  salvation, but had given up on that avenue

  when he’d believed that they’d died out.

  Maralee had rekindled his hope for peace

  after five hundred years of strife.

  Zorn made a sound of disbelief. “You

  place a lot of faith in a killer.”

  Nash nodded. “Perhaps. She has

  twenty-six days to prove it’s deserved. If,

  by the next full moon, she still clings to

  her murderous ways, I will not prevent the

  pack from slaying her.”

  Zorn’s face cracked with a delighted

  smiled.

  “Until then, you will bring no harm to

  her,” Nash continued. “If you try to

  frighte
n her again, or hurt her in any way,

  you won’t get off with a warning.

  Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Zorn said, ducking his

  head. Nash never handed out empty

  threats.

  Nash gave him one long look and then

  took his Wolf form again, thankful for the

  warmth his thick fur provided. How was

  he supposed to convince Maralee they

  weren’t animals if members of his pack

  behaved as such? He quietly padded

  through the forest back to his cabin and

  found his clothes on the porch. Taking his

  human form, he redressed quietly and then

  let himself back into the house. His heart

  thudded with panic when he found the rug

  near the fire vacant. The rest of the house

  was dark, but flickering came from the

  kitchen. He took a step in that direction.

  “Is that you, Nash?” Maralee called

  and peeked out of the kitchen at him.

  He didn’t understand why relief

  lightened his chest at seeing her. He

  smiled and moved towards her in several

  long strides. She gasped in surprise when

  he pulled her against him and claimed her

  mouth with a hungry kiss. Fighting always

  ignited his instinctual need to mate. He

  was not likely to be safe company for an

  innocent young human this evening. One

  who always smelled ready to mate.

  Maralee didn’t dissuade his advances.

  She buried her fingers in his hair and

  drew him closer, making little sounds of

  pleasure in the back of her throat. He tore

  his mouth away from hers and looked

  down at her. He had never mated in his

  human form before, and wasn’t sure how

  to proceed. He knew what a Wolf would

  do in such a situation.

  He backed her into the round, kitchen

  table. She couldn’t seem to look away

  from his eyes. Hers were wide and silver

  in the dim candlelight of the kitchen. He

  knew he must seem feral to her, but rather

  than looking afraid, she seemed intrigued

  by his dominating behavior. He turned her

  around and bent her over the table,

  pressing her face and torso against the

  unyielding wood with one large hand. He

  dropped to his knees behind her and

  pressed his face between her legs,

  inhaling the intoxicating scent of her

  woman’s flesh. Sweet heaven, her scent

  awakened his lust.

  “Nash?” she squeaked.

  His fingers dug into her hips and he

  held her still to nuzzle her through the

  fabric of her pants. She shuddered but

  didn’t try to stop his invasion. He hoped it

  wasn’t because she was afraid of him. He