I howled into the cold air, plumes of fog escaping my gaping mouth and the other three followed. It was a yell of triumph, a war cry to spur us on towards the fight that was coming. Do or die, there was no other choice.
The bears came barreling through the sparse underbrush and would have collided into us had we not been prepared for them. We split into packs of two: me and Jacob on one side, and Taylor and Nate on the other. This way, we could exercise a splinter attack and take down the first bear no problem. We had to be swift, or we would be caught by the others before we could recover.
Jacob and Nate quickly leapt at the bear's neck and sank their teeth in. A sick yell escaped it, and there was a look of surprise in its dark eyes as I lunged for its front leg. My teeth sank into the joints there, and it went down with ease, crashing down on top of me as we tumbled and rolled with the bear's continued momentum.
It was dead by the time it skidded into the far bushes, and we were up again, blood dripping from our maws. My back ached from the bear's weight on top of me, but its blood in my mouth spurred me on, heightened my drive to see every single one of these creatures reduced to a pile of meat and bone. No one took our cubs without expecting a fight, and I planned to give them one hell of one.
I licked it away with a feral smile, knowing that this would only anger the bears further. With one down, we had a more even chance of getting out of here alive. But we were still going to have to be careful. There was no room for mistakes.
The other four finally came into view, and they growled viciously at seeing their dead compatriot. With four left, it was going to be a struggle, seeing as it needed more than one of us to down a single bear. The death of a single one, however, was encouragement enough to continue our fight, and I released another short howl to signal the attack.
Jacob's dark form lunged at the nearest and managed to latch onto one of the bear's ears. Taylor joined him, snarling and barking at the creature to keep it distracted. With any effort, the bear would lunge this way and make it easier for Jacob to find his neck.
Nate was confronting another all by himself, determined to prove to the others that he didn't need help. He'd always been stubborn and somewhat of a loner that way. Good for taking down prey during a hunt but terrible in an outmatched fight like this one. I didn't have time to watch his back, however. Jacob needed help.
As I predicted, the bear lunged towards Taylor, and that gave me room to sink my teeth into its neck. It howled and struggled in an attempt to shake me off, but my teeth were stuck fast, and I had no intention of letting go. As it swung its large head the other way, I crashed into Jacob, the strike birthing stars behind my eyes. But I felt Jacob at my side; he'd found a soft spot in the bear's neck as well and had joined me in my efforts to take it down.
My muzzle was wet with blood and I could feel the bear starting to weaken, its fight slowly dying. I didn't have the time to see its death all the way through, as I noticed Taylor and Nate struggling with one all by themselves. They were pinned near the bushes, and a second was circling around to try and get them from the side.
A mighty swing of one paw and I watched Nate spin through the air, limp. I swallowed back the worry in my mouth and charged right at it; I couldn't give it the chance to recover and deal a second blow. I crashed right into its side and picked myself up to avoid being stepped on. My ears pinned back as I snarled at it, keeping it distracted so that Nate could get away if he was still awake. I could smell Taylor's worry in the air, and I knew he wanted to check on his brother. But there were still three of them unharmed, and we were going to lose steam soon if we didn't deal with them more quickly.
The bear lunged again at Taylor next and I threw myself into its way once more. But it saw my attack and a mighty paw struck me on the side of the head. Everything stopped in that second, and I was unable to breathe or feel anything. The whole world went black in that split second before my body hit the ground. I could feel myself rolling across the icy snow, everything around me sounding muffled. Distant. I wanted to get up. I had to help them, to keep my soldiers from dying. But I couldn't get my limbs to cooperate.
When I came to, I was watching my own breathing disappear in clouds before my face. The smell of blood was heavy in the air, and I heard the crunching of bones that turned my stomach. I couldn't see anything, and my desperation forced me to my feet. I shook off the dizziness, the ice that clung to my face, and forced myself to my feet. It was difficult as the world continued to spin beneath my feet, but I grit my teeth against the sensation and turned to where I'd last seen my men.
Dead. All three of them were dead. My best friend... the two young men... trampled on and torn apart like a deer during a feast. Only the bears had no intention of eating them. They were sending a message, one that the rest of my pack would find and learn from.
Jacob's mouth hung open, his blank eyes fixed on me as his neck hung from one of the bear's jaws. They noticed I was still alive and turned to face me. Jacob's tongue lolled out of his mouth then, hanging limp and cold, the blood still dripping from it.
I could turn and run. Live another day. Or fight to the death and join my friends, give my last breath to try and avenge them.
The bears raised their heads in a trio of mighty roars, Jacob falling from the one's mouth, and it pawed at the ground, preparing for another attack.
Out of nowhere, three more wolves appeared and charged them. Taken by surprise, the bears had no means of defending themselves. One was instantly blinded, the teeth of a dark wolf sunk down into its eye. It howled in fear and pawed the wolf off. The wolf took the hit in stride and rolled with it, instantly back on its feet within seconds. Once it shook itself off, it spat the crushed eyeball at the bear's feet.
The other two were taken down in a second, their bites and nips at the bear's side confusing it and sending it spinning in the wrong direction. That was the only opening I needed, and I dug my feet in, ignoring the ringing and cloudiness that continued to dull my senses. My teeth latched onto fur and meat, and as I continued my run, I heard the sound of rippling flesh. I shook what felt dead between my teeth and spat it out. A single ear ripped clean off. I glanced up at the wounded bear with pride and exhaustion, an open bleeding hole on the side of its head.
The third, still uninjured, backed up until there was nothing but claws and teeth within our reach. Its body was littered with scars; meaning it had survived many a fight. This one was definitely going to be a challenge. It barreled over its brethren, knocking their dead or prone bodies out of the way to get to us. A lunge dragged its enormous claws across my side, and I yelped in pain. I stumbled to get away, but I was much too slow. Another swipe knocked my back leg from under me, and I was down for the count. The only thing I could do was wait and hope that this pack was on my side, and not just eager to fill their hungry bellies.
The edges of my vision started to grow dark as I watched them work. One after another, they leapt upon the bear, delivering bites wherever they could and darting away before it could retaliate. It was starting to slow after each attack, saliva dripping from its massive maw.
My vision drifted once more to my dead friends. So much life within them, snuffed out in an instant. I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes, and I whimpered quietly to myself in mourning. How was I going to report their deaths to the rest of the pack? How could I have been so careless?
Everything went silent, and I turned my head enough to see that the large scarred bear was no longer moving. A nudge from the head of the darkest wolf verified its fate. Before my eyes, the fur fell away as dark skin became lighter, pricked pink with the cold air, and three men stood before me, naked as the day they were born.
Shifters. But not from my pack. I bared my teeth in one final attempt to scare them off before I succumbed to weakness from the multiple hits, and passed out.
3
She's drifting again, isn't she?
You want to head into bear territory?
Run!
T
he words echoed in my mind. I needed to get away as fast as I tried to move my legs, it felt like I was walking through mud. I could feel hot breath on the back of my neck. It stank of meat, and I turned to see the gaping maw of a bear inches from my face. Within its throat, I spied the faces of my dead friends, beckoning to me with pleading looks, asking me to join them. It would be so easy to surrender and allow myself to be taken along with them. At least then we would be together again.
But that would leave no one looking for the cub, and someone needed to bring him home.
I turned, mourning, and continued my attempts to get away. The bear leered over me with a pitiful grin, huffing and snorting at my continued failure. It was getting hotter by the second, and I wasn't sure why it was taunting me so. But the more I struggled, the more I began to sink. No, not sink. My legs themselves were melting off my body, making it harder and harder for me to get away. I clutched at the wispy blades of grass and pulled, digging into the ground to gain grip. To no avail. I was going to die here, and it would have been for nothing.
Just as the jaws sank down into the meat of my neck, I jolted awake with a scream, my hand pressed to the illusory ache in my neck that I slowly came to realize wasn't really there. I was covered in sweat, and my feet were tangled up in some fabric. Bed sheets, from the looks of them. My first instinct was fear, that the bears had captured me and tied me up to keep me as a hostage.
Then I remembered the bears' dead faces... and the three wolves who had slain them before me. Had they rescued me and brought me to this place? I could only hope it was a rescue; taking females from other packs wasn't unheard of, especially if their population numbers were getting low and they needed some way to build them back up again. Not the best situation, but it was better than being dead.
A quick glance around the room revealed wooden beams over my head and a scant room with barely anything in it. The closet door hung open and there were several shirts hanging up, with even more piled on the floor. Whoever lived here definitely wasn't neat.
I didn't get to inspect much more of the room as I was suddenly distracted by a pleasant smell in the air. Cooking meat. My stomach turned with hunger, though I wasn't sure I was ready to invite myself down for a meal. I barely knew this pack, and they hadn't made their intentions clear just yet.
As I tried to roll out of bed, I was halted by a dull ache in my side. I hissed in pain and turned on the nearby lamp. Three long scars ran down the side of my body, the wounds already stitching themselves closed. Blood still stained my skin, as if someone had done a hurried job to clean me up. The ache remained as my muscles and bones tried to deal with the trauma, but at this rate, it was going to be another day or two before the scars would be gone as well.
My leg ached too when I stood up; thankfully, it wasn't broken, but it would make things difficult if I needed to escape this place. I padded my way across the wooden floor to the small attached bathroom and turned on the light. It smelled clean.
I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror as I turned the water on. I looked beyond exhausted, and a little ashen from blood loss. There were dark mottled bruises on my cheek and shoulders, and several smaller ones covering the rest of my body.
Oh, right. My clothes. It would be short of a miracle if my "rescuers" had exercised care in gathering my clothes and carrying them back with them. I got the feeling that that was the least of their concerns.
A burst of laughter downstairs reminded me that I wasn't alone.
I subconsciously covered myself with my arms—these were strangers after all—and glanced back into the room. None of my clothes were in sight. There was a small window on the left wall that would be big enough for me to squeeze through, but barely. I toyed with the idea of sneaking out and making the change to get back to my pack, forget about my clothes and these wolves' hospitality. But in my condition, I wouldn't be able to get very far on my own, nor did I know what direction we'd traveled in. It would be a while before I would be able to get my bearings, and it was likely I would have grown too tired by then to make it all the way back. Staying here until I had recovered a little more seemed like the smarter choice and, with any luck, maybe this small pack would be able to offer some assistance with my problem.
I sighed and splashed some cold water on my face. It felt heavenly against my heated skin and washed away the lingering sweat and grime from my fight. Unfortunately, there was no shower in here to take care of the rest, so I was either going to have to wash myself using the sink or wait for someone to show me to a bathroom.
Not wanting to impose or to dirty any of the clothes strewn about the room, I unraveled the knotted bedsheets and hugged them around myself before heading downstairs. I gathered the edges to keep from tripping on them and tried to be as quiet as possible. The wooden staircase, however, groaned beneath my weight and gave me away. The ensuing animated conversation went instantly dead, and as I rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, I found three pairs of eyes looking right at me.
A warm blush covered my entire body as I stepped into the room, not knowing where to look. The place was cozy, big enough for the three strapping men—with room for more—sitting on a long couch. Behind them was an open kitchen, and I could see steam rising from a deep pot on the stove. That was where the wonderful smell was coming from.
They were sitting on a large couch in a luxurious but scant living room, across from a fireplace with a slowly dying fire. To the left of it was a shelf covered in books and various decorations that I could only assume were trophies of some kind. To the right was a lower table, covered in crystal tumblers and decanters of various liquids. So, they liked to drink. That put me a little on edge since I didn't know if they were currently in a state of inebriation or sober.
The first that stood was a tall man with dark brown hair and furrowed brows. He held out a hand to me to help me down the stairs the rest of the way, but I remained where I was, hesitant of his intentions. He must have seen the fear in my eyes because he stepped back to give me room and folded his hands behind his back.
"Glad to see you're in good health. Are you feeling okay?" he asked in a stern tone. His face was smooth, despite looking a little older than me, and his lips were drawn into a thin, serious line. He didn't look like the kind of person who laughed very often.
His concern was touching, and I nodded in response. I was feeling a little weak, but I was strong enough to stand and walk on my own. He gestured to the other two men, who vacated the couch so that I could sit. I found the soft leather heavenly and warm against my skin, and the stuffing was so plush that I practically sank into it. I curled my feet up beneath me to keep them from getting cold and to make myself as small as possible should any of them want to sit.
"Can I get you anything? Some water, maybe?" The black-haired one leaned over the back of the couch, with a twinkle in his eye that spelled mischief. The third sported blonde hair and stood by himself, looking a little nervous. I don't know what he had to be nervous about since I was no longer at death's door, nor did I look threatening in any way, I was sure.
"Would it... be too much to ask for coffee?" I asked politely, and the man with dark hair chortled behind his hand.
"You're a guest of our house. We'd be terrible hosts if we couldn't provide you with simple coffee," Brown hair said, and waved a hand towards Blondie. He hurried off quickly, looking a little relieved that he was being given something to do. "My name is Jack, by the way. These are my brothers, Henry and Zack." He gestured to each of them in turn, though the blonde one was already gone.
"Yo." Henry saluted with two fingers and flipped himself over the couch to sit next to me. He landed with a grunt and pulled the edges of my blanket over the top of my head with a grin. "Never seen a shifter like you before. You born with all those sparkles in your fur, or...?"
His head jerked from the slap he received to the back of the head from Jack, who looked quite put-off at his brother's behavior.
"Would you leave her a
lone and give her some space, please? She's still recovering." He shooed Henry away, who begrudgingly complied... to the other end of the couch.
"You'll have to forgive my brother. He was born with a stick up his ass, and he hasn't let anyone close enough to get it out. It stunted his sense of humor." Henry stuck out his tongue out at his brother and stared at his brother in a pout. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself, but a look from Jack stifled it. I guess he didn't want me encouraging his brother's antics.
Zack, the blonde one, soon returned with a mug of coffee, carefully blowing at the wisps of steam to help cool it off. Slow was his journey across the room, careful not to spill one drop of it, and gently placed the mug on the small table to my left.
"One m-mug of coffee. I wasn't sure if you like sugar or cream, so I left them out. But... but if you like, I c-can go get some for you. And I figured you must be starving, so I brought you some stew as well."
"Oh, black is fine, thank you." It was a little white lie; I just didn't want to turn him into even more of a nervous wreck. "So... brothers. All the way out here by yourselves?" I took a tentative sip of my coffee and relished in the warmth that washed over me. The small kick of caffeine helped too and chased away the lingering drowsiness. Hm. Not a bad brew. The bowl of stew I left on the table to cool, despite my stomach yearning for something to eat.
"Honestly?" The three of them looked at each other before Jack continued. "We left our pack behind. Our parents were high-ranking lieutenants in the pack, so they were responsible for the entire group. We learned about the war with the bear shifters growing up, and we wanted no part of it anymore. So, we left. They didn't really take too kindly to that." He sat across from me on another chair, his hands templed under his chin. "And you're familiar with how outsiders are treated in packs that aren't their own."
Mated to the Alpha Wolves Page 2