“No.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, and walked out the door. She heard the lock turn behind him. Looking around the cabin, she checked the box for a weapon, anything she could use if he tried something tonight. Although she knew he wouldn’t. He’d saved her from exactly that just a few hours ago.
Nausea at the memory had her clutching her belly and she went to the bed. Lifting the sleeping bag, she checked for bugs then climbed in, moving to the farthest corner and turning her back to the door. She closed her eyes, suddenly incredibly tired. Her bottom burned, her wrists were sore, and her head still hurt. She just wanted to sleep.
* * *
As soon as he was outside, Elijah adjusted the crotch of his pants. He’d gotten hard spanking her, but spanking had always turned him on. It was like a kill. Whenever he shifted back to his human form, he’d have to relieve his erection. He’d read somewhere that men got hard during battle and he knew it was true. It was some basic, primal instinct and it was worse in wolves.
Chapter Three
When Kayla woke, it was to the sound of birds outside. Spring was the best time of year. She felt warm and safe and smiled as she blinked her eyes open. She stared straight ahead at the wall, three beams of light coming in through the holes that had been drilled there.
Remembering where she was, she realized where the warmth was coming from and the arm that was draped protectively over her now felt like a weight too heavy to breathe beneath.
She had her back pressed into him, the wall of his naked chest rising and falling as he breathed. His legs were tucked behind hers and he held her to him. Her eyes grew wide when she felt the stiffness between his legs. Should she move slowly, try to creep away?
She vaguely remembered the nightmare, crying, followed by him sweeping her close, telling her to go back to sleep. He’d held her and he’d been gentle; that much she remembered, more as feeling than memory.
He moved. “Good morning,” he said.
She pushed his arm off and wiggled to the other end of the bed before turning to him. She didn’t respond.
He looked at her, stretched and yawned. “You always have bad dreams?” he asked, turning to her.
“Only since I met you,” she answered, trying to act cool, detached.
“Funny,” he said, pushing the sleeping bag off.
He was naked but for a pair of tight shorts that concealed little. When he caught her looking, she flushed red and dropped her gaze.
“I usually sleep naked, but left these on as a courtesy,” he said, smiling.
“Are you waiting for me to thank you?” she asked. She sat up and combed her fingers through her hair.
He ignored her and looked at his watch. “I’d like to be on our way in the next ten minutes.”
“On our way where?” she asked, climbing out of the bed while he pulled on his jeans and t-shirt. “I need a shower, fresh clothes. Where are we going? And who are you running from? Besides the police, I mean?”
“It might serve you well to remember last night’s lesson,” he said.
She flushed red, embarrassed, even as another part of her reacted differently to his words.
He folded the sleeping bag and secured it to the duffel bag, packing bottles of water and some of the canned goods. He opened the door. “If you need to relieve yourself, now would be the time,” he said, gesturing for her to go ahead of him with a nod of his head.
Once that was finished, he locked the door and they began to walk.
“I’m not exactly wearing hiking boots,” she complained, but followed.
“I can carry you if you prefer,” he offered, glancing at her.
She glared at him. “Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“To my car,” he said.
“Which is how far, exactly?” she asked.
“Are you going to talk the entire time?”
“I’ll stop as soon as you answer my questions. I wouldn’t want to be a pain in your ass, since you’re forcing me…”
He stopped and grabbed her so fast, she was shocked into silence. Her eyes went wide as she stared into his, the gold in them suddenly clouded.
“Quiet,” he warned.
She nodded, a shiver shaking her once. Her mom used to say those shivers were the hand of the devil on your shoulder. In this case, it was the grip of the werewolf.
He let her go and she walked a pace behind him, wanting to keep distance, but knowing not to take too much, knowing not to try him. The forest smelled good; the trees, the soil, all of it, so different than the city, which she almost never left. The ground was damp and the sound of birds calmed her. She focused on that sound, trying not to jump at every broken branch or noise.
“You can tell if there’s something following us, right? I mean the animal side of you. I don’t know what animals are in these woods, but I don’t want to become something’s breakfast.”
He turned to her, smiling. His expression was almost amused. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything eat you,” he said.
“Speaking of breakfast…” she began. Her stomach growled as if to verify.
“You didn’t eat anything last night,” he said, stopping immediately. He set the bag on the ground. From inside, he withdrew a granola bar and handed it to her. “It’s all we’ve got for now, but I promise you a warm meal this evening.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking the granola bar and unwrapping it. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“No, I packed the bars for you. Would you like some water?”
“I don’t suppose you have coffee in there,” she said, taking the bottle he held out to her. She realized something. “What are you going to eat then?” she asked.
“I’ll hunt later,” he said.
“You mean you’re going to turn into the animal?”
“We don’t have to talk about that, Kayla. It’s natural for you to feel uncomfortable with that thought.”
“I might use different words to describe it,” she said. Terrified, scared to death…she could go on.
He smiled again. “Come on, we’ll go a little ways farther before we rest. I’ll carry you if your feet hurt.”
“They don’t hurt,” she lied.
He glanced at her flip-flops. “They will.”
“Who’s chasing you?” she asked. “Who are these men you mentioned and what does any of it have to do with me?”
“We’ll talk about that later,” he said. “Tell me about school. What are you studying?”
“Just business management. I don’t have a special talent or anything,” she said, feeling a little flushed again. She didn’t like talking about herself, didn’t like being the center of attention. She preferred blending into the background, disappearing.
“I don’t believe that,” he said. “What do you want to be? To do?”
“Oh, I guess I’d work in an office…”
“That’s not what I meant. What do you love, Kayla? What makes you feel?”
They’d slowed and the look in his eyes wouldn’t allow her to turn away. Hers grew wide for a moment as sweat collected under her arms. “I don’t know,” she said, feeling lame.
“You do, you just have to search for it. It’s there, but it needs your attention.”
“What about you?” she asked.
He studied her and she could see he was considering something. She wondered if he hadn’t expected her to turn his question around. “Saving pretty damsels in distress,” he said. “Let’s keep walking.”
Apparently that topic made him as uncomfortable as it did her. She walked in silence, watching his back for most of the time. He was so big and she could see the muscles working with each step. He didn’t tire of carrying the bag, didn’t even have to switch shoulders, he just seemed to be able to keep going.
“Are you sure we’re not lost?” she asked. They were so deep in the woods that daylight could barely penetrate through the thick cover of trees. She figured she’d never find her way out if she did t
ry to run or manage to escape him.
“We’re not lost. We can take a break if you need to,” he said.
“Yes, please. My feet hurt. How far are we from the car?” she asked.
“Far enough that we’ll have to camp tonight,” he said. “If you’d let me carry you, we could cover ground faster.”
She shook her head.
He decided on a spot to rest and she sat down when he set the bag on the ground. She slipped off her flip-flops and rubbed her sore feet. “Do you know what time it is?” she asked.
“Almost three in the afternoon.”
“We’ve been walking that long?” she asked. “Do you have another granola bar?”
He dug around in the bag and handed it to her, looking around as if he were searching for something.
“Kayla, I need to hunt,” he said.
“Oh.” She looked at him, realizing she didn’t want to be left alone.
“I need to make sure you’re here when I get back.” He took out a length of rope from his bag.
She stood up and backed away. “What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I’m going to tie you to that tree,” he said, pointing at one nearby.
“What if an animal comes? Or something else?” she asked, backing away. “I’ll just be here. It’s not like I know where the hell I am anyway!” She was beginning to panic.
“I won’t be gone long and there aren’t any large animals in this wood,” he said, closing the space between them. “Do you remember the promise you made last night?” he asked.
She eyed the thick rope and nodded. “And I will obey. I’ll stay where you put me. You don’t need to tie me up.”
“This can go easy or hard. You choose.”
She considered her options, of which she didn’t really have any.
“Sit down in front of that tree,” he said, gesturing to the thick one nearby.
“I hate you,” she said to him.
“I’ll bring you back something good to eat,” he said, following her as she walked to the tree.
“No, thanks.” She sat with her back to it and folded her arms across her chest.
“Put your hands together,” he said.
She obeyed and he wound the rope around and between her wrists. “Good girl,” he said.
She made some sound, but didn’t move as he wrapped the cord over her chest and around the tree several times so her hands were clasped in front of her. Once he was satisfied, he came around and stood looking down at her. “Not too tight, I hope?” he asked.
“No, it’s great, just perfect,” she spat, a sarcastic smile on her face. “How long are you going to be gone?” she asked.
“Why? Are you going to miss me?”
“No. I just want to know how long I’m going to be left here like this.”
“Not long. Be good. If you try to escape, I’ll know and I will punish you, understood?”
She nodded once, but would not meet his eyes.
* * *
Elijah wasn’t gone long. He shifted, hunted, and ate. He preferred meat from a hunt; it satisfied on a different level than store-bought, cooked meat.
Kayla’s question to him, or rather when she’d turned his question around, had surprised him. It had made him think because he no longer knew the answer to it. Eight years ago, it was easy. But now, well, the only thing he could think of as the right answer baffled him and would surely have unnerved her.
She was a sweet thing, and she was tougher than she knew. He wondered if it was her genetic makeup. He didn’t want to leave her alone for too long though. She was scared in the woods; he could sense it. She was already beginning to rely on him, even if she wasn’t aware of it herself.
When he returned to her, he carried his kill.
“A squirrel?” she asked when he stepped into the clearing.
“I didn’t want to take down a deer and didn’t come across any rabbits.”
“You’re going to eat a squirrel?” she asked, crinkling her face.
He laughed. “No, you are.” He set the animal down and began to untie her. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“I’m not hungry for that,” she said, stretching her legs and rubbing her wrists once she was free.
“Wait ‘til I roast it,” he said. “Help me gather some firewood and we’ll make camp here. Sleep early and we’ll rise early.”
“What did you eat?” she asked as she collected small sticks and leaves. “You’ve got a little…” She gestured to the corner of his mouth, making a face that told him how gross she thought it was.
He wiped away the speck of red. “Don’t worry about it,” he answered, carrying larger pieces of wood to the center of the clearing. He could only imagine what she’d think of his meal.
Once the firewood was collected, Elijah dug for matches and lit the stack. “Set up the sleeping bag over there; you might be more comfortable sitting on it,” he said.
“You don’t have any Band-Aids, do you?” she asked, looking at her feet.
“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “Sit down. I’ll do the sleeping bag.”
She did and he lay the thing out. While the fire got going, he settled himself by her feet and picked them up, setting them on his lap as he began to slowly massage them.
“What are you doing?” she asked, trying to pull away.
“Relax, it’ll feel better,” he said, not allowing her to free herself.
She was hesitant at first, but then relaxed. He even thought he heard a soft sigh as he rubbed her feet.
“Do you have any family?” she asked out of the blue, surprising him.
He looked at her, his fingers stopped working for a moment. “No,” he answered. “Not anymore.”
Her gaze was curious; he could see the questions his response had raised. Her stomach growled.
“Let me get that squirrel roasted for you,” he said.
“I’m not eating that,” she repeated.
“We’ll see,” was his only response as he set the squirrel on the spit he’d crafted. Forty-five minutes later, she’d eaten every morsel he’d handed her. He’d watched her as she took the meat from his hands and at first, placed it tentatively into her mouth. He’d smiled when she’d made a face, wrinkling her nose, but hunger had taken over and she’d eaten with gusto. He found himself wanting to place the moist meat into her mouth himself, onto her tongue. He imagined her licking his fingers clean with each bite. When she flushed red at one point, he went about working on the fire, knowing his expression had given away his thoughts.
Once dinner was over, they cleaned their hands as best they could. It was silent for a while as they both watched the dying fire, the sunlight fading fast. He noticed that she hugged her arms around herself and although the cool air didn’t bother him, he knew she’d be cold.
“Get into the sleeping bag, Kayla,” he said. “Get some sleep. We’ll rise early and hopefully make it to the car by midday.”
She nodded and did as he said without argument. He watched her settle in and left her alone until he was sure she’d fallen asleep. Throwing dirt over the remains of their fire, he crawled into the sleeping bag. It was a tight space and although she made some small sound of protest, she slept on when he gathered her into his arms, her back to his front. She fit him nicely, all small and soft and warm. It took quite some effort to keep his mind from wandering to last night’s spanking—her pretty, naked bottom, the feel of his hand on her flesh, how she’d given over and submitted, the slickness of the swollen, pink lips between her thighs.
Elijah grunted and adjusted the crotch of his pants. He was going to need release, and soon.
Chapter Four
The next morning, they rose early and walked in the cool morning air. Her feet felt better, which was a good thing because they still had a few hours’ walk to get to the car he’d hidden away by a remote dump site. It was a nondescript, four-door vehicle, black with tinted windows. The door stuck when he pulled it open and she climbed into
the passenger seat. He moved to the driver’s side and started the engine which, after a few moments, hummed to life, and they were off.
Kayla felt irritated. Not with him so much as with herself. She was beginning to trust him, or at least to depend on him. She needed to remember he was her kidnapper. And a murderer. Although she knew that part wasn’t true. He’d attacked the men who were attacking her. That was different from murder.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Mountains. I have a place there we can hide out for a while.”
“Mountains where?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Who are we hiding out from? I have a job. I have to go to school tonight and I have to finish my paper,” she said, remembering that night too clearly, knowing none of what she said was her life any longer. “Why are you doing this? I don’t want to go with you.”
He looked at her, then turned back to the path. “I’m sorry.” He sounded more authentic than she thought was possible.
“I don’t understand any of this,” she said, rubbing her face with her hands. “Was it just a dream? Am I dreaming now?”
“No, Kayla, you know this is real,” he said, pulling out onto a dirt road.
“What could have happened to me that night, what Todd…” She choked for a moment, imagining having been raped. Gang-raped. “You saved me from that,” she said, her voice small. “But I didn’t want them to die.” She still had a very clear picture of the wolf standing over the bodies. “Werewolves are make-believe, they’re not real,” she said, while at the same time remembering the stories her father would tell her. Her mom would tell him to stop scaring her. She shook her head. Although the memory was old, it wasn’t any less painful.
“I wish that were true, but we both know it isn’t.”
“Who are you running from and why can’t you let me go? It’s not just police.”
“My family originates from the Alaskan mountain range, Mount McKinley to be precise. How it all began, no one knows anymore, but the men of our family, well, most of the men, are shifters. We have the ability to take on the wolf form you saw the other night. For as long as we’ve existed, we’ve been hunted. We’ve evolved over time and so have our enemies, gaining power, growing in numbers. Eight years ago, there was a massacre of my people. They captured my father and we thought they’d killed him. But it turned out they’d been experimenting, learning how to weaken us, learning our secrets. My father would not have talked so easily and when I saw his body after they were through, I understood why he had. I killed the men who’d done that to him, but it was too late. They took a handful of us; they knew which of us were the most powerful, most useful to them, my brothers among them. All dead now, I’m sure. The rest of the men, they burned alive. My son was not quite two.” His tone was different during the last part.
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