by C. D. Gorri
Something big crashed in the darkness. He pulled his attention from the silence of the valley and turned toward the mountains stretching up into the sky.
Abel ran.
That same sense as before seized his heart and added extra speed to his paws. Moonlight filtered through branches and leaves over his head, dappling the ground in front of him. Something inside him had been loosed, and he shot as true as an arrow right for the place he needed to be.
“Dammit,” a voice swore in the darkness.
He slowed his run and prowled forward, keeping to the shadows.
At the bottom of a gully as deep as he was tall, was a park ranger.
She smelled like nature at its very basics. Wind and dirt and all the life in between. Dew-dappled leaves and tangy oranges. Hazelnuts and sage and mossy footsteps.
And… human.
She was human.
His mate was human.
Forbidden, despite the recent revelations. If he entered Blackthorne territory with a human on his arm, Rasmus would be sure to use it as the reason why he was the wrong choice for alpha.
Mate.
The word ran through him like a lightning bolt, sending the fur lifting down his spine. He gave a great shake to settle the beast, but the feeling returned immediately. Never left. He didn’t know.
All he wanted to do was lick that woman until she cried out for more, then bury his fangs and cock so deep inside her he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.
Bite. Mark.
Claim.
Human or not, the wolf wanted her.
Abel padded closer to the edge of the gully and drank her in. Something was wrong. Pain twisted her full lips into a grimace and brought her thick brows together in a pinched expression. Her uniform had a tear at one shoulder and the black braid hanging down her back had several strands fleeing the sticks and leaves caught in the mess.
Still, she didn’t let out more than a whimper as she braced her arms behind her and inched her way up the steep slope. Or tried to. The ground—rocks, dirt, he couldn’t make out which exactly—shifted under her hands and sent her skidding down the precious ground she’d covered.
Not a total loss, he saw. She’d snagged a long branch broken off in some storm. She planted one end into the ground and hoisted herself up a few inches to test if it’d work as a crutch. Satisfied, she sank back down and began stripping off all the smaller bits that would only get in the way.
Not that he’d leave her alone. Or in pain. Her scent settled around him and lit a fire under his ass to pick her up and tend to her every need. Starting with whatever injury kept her from scaling the side.
A branch cracked under his paw, and her head whipped in his direction. “Who’s there?” she demanded.
Busted.
Abel slowly stepped out of the treeline. He lowered his head, then sank down to his belly.
“Shit,” she muttered. Eyes as dark as night never leaving his face, she lowered the branch to her lap. Her fingers closed around one end, but she didn’t lift it immediately.
“I don’t want to have to use this,” she warned in a firm voice, “but I’m not going to die tonight. You want something tasty, you can try the elk further up the path, but I’m sure she’ll give you a run for your money.”
Abel chuffed a laugh. Resourceful and brave. Not many would stare down a wolf in the night without a bit of a tremble.
He wasn’t just a wolf, though.
Abel took another step closer and noticed the tightening of her hands around the branch.
His frame shimmered as his wolf stepped back without a fight. Fur receded and bones reformed, and in a flash, his human form knelt on the edge of the gully.
“Elk burgers are fine, but I’d rather have a thick steak.”
Chapter Five
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
The wolf had turned into a man.
“This isn’t happening,” Dakota muttered.
She squeezed her eyes closed. Maybe she’d taken a harder fall than she suspected. Maybe more than her ankle had taken damage.
One didn’t simply meet naked strangers in the woods.
But no, he was still there when she cracked her lids wide. Still crouched, still watching her.
Bright, near-glowing green eyes latched on her face. His strong jaw was covered in a day or two’s worth of dark stubble, which made her want to pry as to whether he wore it like that on purpose or had simply lost any sense of time as he prowled around on four feet. Dark hair cropped short and left messy on top added to the stylishly unkempt mystery.
Even kneeling, she could tell he was packed with an ungodly amount of muscles. His arms flexed with every shift and adjustment of his crouch. Powerful thighs concealed sensitive areas, but left nothing to the imagination where his hips and abs were concerned.
Run with the wolves, her grandmother said.
More like be eaten by one.
And from the way he stared, she wasn’t sure there would be teeth and ripping flesh involved.
Dakota doused those thoughts with every ounce of cold she could muster. “You’re a werewolf,” she breathed.
He canted his head, eyes catching a shine in the moonlight. A tiny hint of satisfied dimple appeared in one cheek. “Wolf shifter. Werewolves are mostly lies from the movies.”
Shifter. Okay. She could use that. A more accurate term, anyway. Wolves weren’t the only ones around. Bears were the majority population from that town up north if she remembered correctly. Big cats existed, too.
If all the apex predators had equivalents in the shifter species, she wouldn’t be shocked to hear about some colony of seal shifters trying to outrun shark shifters.
Shark shifters weren’t her primary concern. She didn’t even like swimming in the ocean. Wide, open spaces and mountains full of trees were more her speed.
And wolves. Some that happened to turn into very naked men.
He opened his mouth to say something, then gave a small shake of his head. “What the hell are you doing down there, anyway?”
“The moon made me do it,” Dakota mumbled. His eyebrows crawled high up his forehead, and she offered a better explanation. “The full moon tends to bring out the crazies. We always up patrols this time of the month to make sure everyone stays safe. I was doing a sweep when an elk cow got pissed at some campers getting too close to her calf.”
“So you tagged yourself in, and had to jump out of the way?”
“I’d prefer to call it an evasive maneuver.”
He nodded in a very agreeable sort of way, but the eyes he kept focused on her brightened with amusement. “I’m Abel. What do you say we get you out of there...?”
“That’s not necessary. And you’re—” She cut herself off with a wave in his general, unclothed direction.
“What?” he challenged, voice suddenly tight. “A shifter? You’re not one of those anti-supernatural people, are you?”
“What? No. Obviously, shifters exist. You have every right to exist.” Assholes who said otherwise were just that—assholes. “I just haven’t come face to face with one. With anyone outside of work lately, but that’s beside the point.”
Fucking hell. It was those damn lines at his hips. Flash a few muscles, and her brain suddenly forgot about any sort of filter.
“You’re just very naked,” she said, far too loud. Before he could do more than grin, she latched onto the nearest excuse to cut the whole awkward meeting short. “I need to get to my radio and call back to the station. The others there will need to know where I’ve been.”
Not a lie. She’d parked her truck at the station and said she’d do a sweep of the campground before hitting the trails. The path around the fancy cabins and smaller plots didn’t take very long to walk.
Hell, maybe they were already looking. She hoped that mother called for help as soon as the door slammed shut behind her. Not very polite to leave a child’s rescuer at the business end of angry elk hooves without phoning for backup.
Abel uncoiled even before she finished her objection and dropped down the side of the gully with hardly a grunt. All those muscles she’d spied before were on full display as he closed the distance.
“No,” she warned, holding out her hand. Not that it stopped him. She jerked her face skyward to avoid an eyeful of dangling bits. “No, not a step closer. Don’t you—”
But he bypassed her and crossed through the beam from the flashlight. That, too, he ignored. His head swiveled as he searched the ground, then knelt to retrieve the radio wedged between some rocks halfway up the slope.
Right. Shifter. He could probably see in the dark as easily as the day.
“Don’t what?” he asked innocently. He held out the radio, politely shielding himself with his other hand. “Help someone in need?”
“I was doing just fine on my own.”
“Oh yes, I’m certain you’d have fought off anything with that branch.” He held out his hand. “I can get you back.”
She pursed her lips. Really, she should give the emergency signal. She had the radio now. She’d been injured.
The extra time involved made her want to wince. Dispatch would need to be called, someone with medical credentials would be sent, and she’d be sitting in the dirt until someone fished her out. Or she could ask Lucy or Eugene to come out, leaving the other to wrangle those campers alone.
Better to make use of the strapping muscles in front of her than put an unnecessary strain on the others.
“You really don’t need to do this,” she insisted.
“I… Let me help you. I need to. My wolf needs to.”
Slowly, almost expecting said wolf to lunge at her, Dakota slid her palm into Abel’s awaiting hand.
He waited for her nod before hauling her upright. A steadying hand caught her elbow and stayed there as she took a testing step on her injured foot.
“Motherf—” Pain swelled so thoroughly that it cut off her words. She grit her teeth and tried another step, but wobbled and tipped forward, the ground rushing up to greet her face.
Abel caught her before she went down.
Warmth flared to life where his palms met her skin, and zipped through her nerves, sparking little explosions up and down her spine. Her stomach dipped and twisted like she stood on the edge of a cliff, dreading and wanting to take the plunge into the water that waited below.
She lifted her eyes from his hands on her arms, then scowled at the cocky smirk hitching the corner of his mouth in a perfectly silent and absolutely ringing, ‘I told you so’.
“Come on,” he said softly. His fingers trailed a path of fire from her arm, down her waist, and around the small of her back as he adjusted his grip. “Let’s get you where you need to go.”
Her words died with an indignant squawk as he scooped her into his arms. Strong arms. All warm and muscled and delightfully wrapped around her.
“Put me down,” she ground out.
“If I do that, I’m fairly certain you aren’t getting back up again.” He turned his head to the edge of the gully, then slowly trailed his gaze down the sharp slope and all the rocks between her and the top. “I didn’t catch your name.”
So smooth, as if he hadn’t scooped her bedraggled self out of the dirt. “Dakota.”
“Dakota,” he repeated. He savored the syllables, drawing them out. A slow smile spread over his face at the end. “Dakota in Yellowstone.”
The last was said almost too low to catch. If she hadn’t been watching his mouth move or felt the rumble of his words in his chest as he bounded to the top, she might have missed them.
Equal parts awe and confusion coated the words.
Which matched the thoughts swirling in her own head. Strong man, even if his entire melting out of the darkness routine was a cause for concern. Caring, even if there was more casual skin contact than she’d had in months.
She felt… safe in his arms. Warm and snug and protected. She didn’t know him from Adam, yet he’d hoisted her up as if helping her was his entire reason for being.
Probably damage from her ankle. A blood clot cutting off all reasoned thought or something similar. That happened sometimes after a limb crushed in an accident was freed. It was one reason why regular rangers like herself were supposed to wait for medical assistance if they found a hiker in serious distress. The sudden renewed circulation threw all the infectious, deadly junk back into the system.
She let him scoop her because her very uncrushed, probably sprained ankle messed with her brain. That was all there was to it.
“I’m not from here,” she said, unable to look anywhere but his face. “I wasn’t born at a ranger station or spat out of Old Faithful.”
“That’s too bad,” he chuckled. “I happen to have a thing for hot-tempered earth sprites.”
Dakota groaned. “Just put me down. Send the elk back to finish me off. Or one of your wild brethren.”
“I would never put an innocent creature through that torture.”
She rolled her eyes at his deadpan tone, then stiffened with a look over his shoulder. The lights of the nearby cabins were bouncing further and further away with every step, but Abel swung down a different path than the one they needed to take.
Worry dragged a finger down her spine. “This isn’t the way back to the station.”
“You can’t expect me to walk in there without clothes,” he answered as if this whole thing was his typical day. “Besides, I’m not far off.”
“Perfect,” she smiled with too many teeth. “You can leave me here. Come back when you’re not trying for an indecent exposure charge.”
Her cheeks warmed at the thought of how close all those truly indecent parts were to her own.
Abel smirked down at her like he knew exactly where her mind had gone. That damn dimple deepened. “And let you hurt yourself more the moment my back is turned?”
Dakota scowled, but didn’t say a word. So what if he was right? That branch at the bottom of the gully he effortlessly carried her from wasn’t the only one on the ground. She could make another temporary crutch and hobble back to the station, no stranger involved.
Possibly hurting herself in the process, too. A risk she’d take if he put her down.
“So the plan is an attempted kidnapping. Got it.”
“More of an abduction, I’d say.” He made a show of looking left and right, then grinned down at her. “I see no kid here.”
“I’m not arguing the semantics of my own abduction,” Dakota huffed.
“That’s good, as the attempt is going quite well.”
She shouldn’t laugh. Really. But damn if he wasn’t right. Again. And quick. Inappropriate. Easy on the eyes. All things she shouldn’t be thinking about her possible-abductor.
He wasn’t really an abductor, though. Or if he was, a really shitty one. He’d found her radio and handed it over immediately.
Run with the wolves.
There wasn’t a whole lot of running happening. From, to, or with.
But a stubborn acceptance? She could manage that. Especially when the alternative was to be dumped on the side of the trail in the darkness.
True to his word, he wasn’t far off. He’d landed a site on the edge of the tent camping area, though he hadn’t set anything up after parking an ancient Jeep in the spot.
Abel reached for the handle to pop open the door, then carefully helped her down into the seat. Dakota kept her eyes lifted high when he stepped back and rounded the Jeep.
The back door opened with a creak, followed by a rustling of clothes. “So,” Abel drew out the word, “you don’t do a lot of dating?”
She bristled. “That’s not really any of your business.”
“Just trying to make conversation,” came the muffled response. “You’re the one that said you don’t really get face-to-face with anyone.”
Dakota glared into the night. “I’m a professional tomboy. Most guys are looking for someone a little more domesticated, which leaves coworkers—big
not happening—or tourists, and casual itch-scratching doesn’t really appeal.”
At least not until he came sniffing around with that perfect jawline and arms that effortlessly snapped her up.
She glanced behind her and her eyebrows rose. Two duffel bags had been tossed into the back, and a shirt draped over a seat. A small pillow topped a messily folded blanket shoved into one corner.
“Are you living out of here?” she blurted.
“Why? Are you going to report me?”
The words were light and teasing, but for the first time in their brief acquaintance, his expression darkened. Or rather, his features tightened into a scowl. His eyes? They lit up like a firework. Green glared down at the jeans he grabbed off the seat and shook out.
“It’s temporary,” he said, voice dropping into a raspy growl. “Some family trouble.”
Oh, there were secrets in his eyes. Secrets that made her curious.
Secrets that she had no right to know.
She didn’t know why that bothered her. The scratching need went beyond normal, nosy curiosity. But she couldn’t deny reality. He was a stranger. A park guest. There and gone in the blink of an eye, or as soon as they drove the short distance to the station.
Dakota twisted back around in her seat. “Got it.”
Chapter Six
One quick trip to the ranger station was enough to clear Dakota of duty. The campers inside were enough of a handful that relief flashed over the other rangers’ faces when Abel offered to give Dakota a ride wherever she needed to go.
The moon made me do it.
Yeah, she hadn’t been joking. He was no stranger to the lunar call, but he hadn’t needed a babysitter to guard him against reckless actions for many, many years.
Through it all, Dakota was quiet. Not even the quiet that came from holding back winces of pain. Her quiet was distant and cold.
He’d done that. All those hints and glimpses of who she was—gone. He’d silenced her quips and put a wall between them with just a few words.
He had to tear it back down.
Abel pulled to a stop in front of a small trailer at the end of a hidden service road. Half a dozen others were nestled between trees. A few occupants had spruced up the fronts with some potted plants on either side of the steps leading to their doors or tiny gardens flanking either side, all with a healthy amount of late spring growth bursting to life.