by Cathryn Fox
Logan rolls onto his side and his voice turns serious. “About tomorrow night.”
“What about it?” I ask.
He moves closer. “You’re going to have to listen to me. To do exactly what I say.”
My hand stills over my paper and as his touch seeps into my skin it elicits a shiver from deep within.
“I can’t guarantee it,” I answer honestly. “I wish I could but I can’t.”
A growl rips from his lungs and pewter flares in his eyes. “If we’re going to make it through this, I need you to listen to me.”
As I feel his tension, my blood pounds hard and I glare at him, wondering exactly what it is he’s planning. My mind shifts through all the situations he might think it’s going to take to keep my wolf from attacking.
“I’ll try.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that.”
My stomach quivers. “Okay, then yes,” I say, only because that’s what he wants to hear, not because I believe it. Deep down I don’t know if I can do what he asks of me.
He rolls onto his back. “Good.” He goes quiet for a moment then takes me by surprise when he asks, “Are there any other wolves you can communicate with in human form?”
“No,” I answer.
Darkness moves over his face. “Why do you think you have that connection with Stone?”
“I don’t know.” I look at him carefully, and there is something in his expression that has the hairs on my nape tingling. “Do you?”
Instead of answering he asks, “You both grew up in the compound together?”
“Yes.”
“And he wants you to be his mate?”
“Yes.”
“And you never wanted to be his?”
“No. He was cruel and aggressive.”
Before I can ask him what he’s getting at a twig crunches in the distance and we both still. Logan looks at me, a silent exchange as we both take a second to assess the danger. Logan goes up on his feet and crouches low, bracing his hands on the ground as he sniffs the cool air. I drop my pen and paper and pull the forest into my lungs, but when I catch a very familiar scent, one that has my hackles rising, my heart goes to my throat.
Stone!
I jump to my feet and spin around, trying to pinpoint his location. I know I should be afraid that he’s tracking us, and I know I should probably flee, but my instincts dictate that I go on the offense, not the defense, and run after him. I need to get to the bottom of matters with him once and for all.
As I prepare for a face off, my canines push through my gums. I begin to walk toward his scent but Logan grabs my arm to stop me.
“I’ll go.”
“No. This is my fight.”
His expression changes, darkens, and I can tell by the look he’s aiming my way that he’s not about to let me out of his sight. His turbulent gaze brushes over the menacing forest then turns back to me.
“What if I’m wrong, Pride? What if he wasn’t protecting you?”
“What if you’re not? What if he can help us?”
“What if it’s a trap?”
“I have to know.”
I pull away from him and dash into the woods, but Logan is right on my tail and following close behind me. I sniff the foliage until I come to a spot where Stone’s scent is the strongest. I stop, spin around, and peer into the darkness, but Stone is nowhere to be found.
“He was here.” I point to my feet. “He was right here.” I try to calm myself because my voice is bordering on hysteria and under the circumstances I can’t afford to let my emotions get the better of me. I shuffle around, confused. “He was watching us.”
“And now he’s gone.”
A shiver runs through me to think Stone had been so close, watching. Listening. So why didn’t he attack?
“What could that mean?” I ask.
Logan’s look is dark, piercing. Deadly. “One of two things, I guess. He either felt outnumbered and left to get help, or he’s letting you go.”
I try to wrap my brain around those two possibilities. “The Stone I know would never let me go.” I think of the dress, his years of aggression toward me, and Logan’s theory behind Stone’s actions. Is it possible that I could have been so wrong about him?
“Then if he shows up again, I’ll kill him.”
I swallow at the calmness I hear in Logan’s voice and it simply reminds me that he’s a dangerous alpha, a skilled hunter. A predator, who, when threatened, would kill in seconds flat, without an ounce of hesitation.
“Either way, we can’t stay here,” he says.
“It doesn’t matter where I go, he’ll track me by scent.”
“Then we’ll keep moving, and stay one step ahead of him.”
I nod, and because I’ve never trusted Stone, and decide I’m not about to now, I think it’s a good plan.
With that we pack our bag, hastily shoving our supplies into the various compartments before we take off on foot. We can cover more ground if we travel on all fours, but we don’t want to leave our supplies behind. That, and the PTF will most likely be looking for two wolves.
As we push through the thick foliage and lose ourselves in the night the moon filters through the heavy leaves overhead. My joints ache like mad and it reminds me that come tomorrow night, I’ll no longer be the only undisciplined wolf out here, running free for the first time on shift night.
Will the handlers reel Stone in before he morphs, or will they send him after me when his wolf is at its strongest? Even if Stone isn’t out to harm me—and the jury is still out on that—will his bloodlust take over or will his wolf have what it takes to back away a second time?
14
August 29th night of full moon
* * *
When the sun begins its early morning ascent, Logan and I stop running and collapse beneath a towering oak tree. As I steal a glance around to assess the area for signs of danger, I feel like a taut bow ready to snap at any second. Every muscle in my body is tight and as the waxing moon pulls harder and harder at my wolf, I can feel my patience wearing thin.
“Let’s get a drink and go hunting,” Logan suggests when he sees the troubled state I’m in.
I nod, and wipe the moisture from my forehead, but know hunting is only a temporary distraction. At the end of the day, it’s going to take a lot more than a simple diversion like hunting to keep me from going against my nature.
We spend the day stalking prey, running and working hard to fill our stomachs. As we fully exhaust our bodies I wonder if this is all Logan has up his sleeve. If so, then I believe we’re going to be in a heap of trouble.
When I tire of his tactics I decide to draw, but can’t seem to keep my concentration for any length of time. Restless and edgy, I toss the pen and paper aside, and track along the edge of the snow-packed summit.
The hours slowly slip by and throughout the long day Logan doesn’t trail too far from me, and I note the way he keeps me under his watchful eye.
I pace impatiently as he assembles the tent deep in the thick of trees, hidden from view, and can feel the worry in his gaze when he looks at me. And I can’t help but think he should be worried. Not only for those hikers, but for himself.
Looking for a distraction, I climb to the peak of the mountain and stare at the rough terrain still ahead of us. My breath turns to fog in front of my face as my eyes search the landscape. Not too far off in the distance I can see a hint of civilization. As I zero in on the buildings, my pulse leaps with hope, understanding we’ve almost made it to the other side of the park.
Tomorrow if we rise early and hit the trails, I’m sure we can reach the Canadian border before dark. We’re so close I can almost taste the freedom. But then another thought strikes. A darker one. Does Logan have what it takes to tame me so we can both make it out of here alive?
I guess I won’t know that answer until tonight, when we’re both under the power of the full moon.
I pull my coat tighter around me to w
ard off a chill as I jump from the peak and watch Logan walk around our makeshift camp. As he moves like a predator, with one eye on me at all times my heart misses a beat.
We’ve grown close over the last few days, closer than I should have allowed, and I really don’t want to turn on him. I also can’t risk him turning on me. After all, at our core we’re animals ruled by instinct and survival of the fittest. Then again after everything we’ve been through, my gut tells me this boy would never do anything to harm me.
I wish I could say the same about myself.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. Maybe I should go, run, flee the safe haven of his arms and get as far away from him as possible. And I can’t forget about Stone. I dart a nervous glance around the woods. If he’s out here stalking me, aren’t I simply putting Logan in more danger by staying close?
“Don’t even think about it.”
I spin around and gasp when I find Logan invading my personal space. His overwhelming presence throws me off balance and practically steals the air from my lungs.
“What are you talking about?” I question.
“You’re not going anywhere, so don’t even try.”
My joints take that moment to ache and when the moon pulls harder, awakening my hunger, I realize how dire the situation is.
“How did you know?”
“I might not be Stone but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what you’re thinking.”
There is something in his voice when he says Stone’s name. Something that makes me think he’s envious of my ability to communicate with Stone.
“You’re not safe with me around,” I say.
“I’ll take my chances.”
“What if I—”
He offers me a reassuring smile and it doesn’t only mess with my body, it messes with my brain. “You won’t. I can help you, little one.”
Having grown fond of his nickname for me, I can’t help but smile. “You’re pretty sure of yourself.”
He drags me to him and his face softens when he presses his lips to my forehead. “I’m also sure of you.”
“Don’t be,” I say and note the sudden urgency in my voice, one I’ve never heard before. Frustrated, I lightly pound on his chest and add, “Unless you have some tricks up your sleeve that I don’t know about.”
He rolls one broad shoulder and I note a hint of nervousness in his voice when he says, “Maybe I do.”
As I watch him, I realize I’ve only heard uncertainty in his voice one time before, and that was when we were alone in the tent. “I sure hope so.”
He grips my arms and inches me back. The warmth in his eyes ignites a fire in my stomach when he says, “Make sure you concentrate on my voice only, okay?”
I open my mouth to speak, but slam it shut again when I hear a noise in the underbrush. Logan and I turn to catch sight of a rabbit as it darts past our tent.
When my wolf yelps, wanting to be unleashed, to take chase at the first warm-blooded thing she sees, I know in a few short hours we’re all going to be in serious trouble.
I step away from Logan and continue to pace. When I come across the backpack I root around inside and find the last of our provisions. A cinnamon-coated granola bar. I tear it open and split it in half. I hand Logan his share and chew slowly on mine as I once again lose myself in my own thoughts.
As the daylight disappears and douses the woods in darkness, I can feel the full moon taunting me.
I shy away from it and stare at the snow-dusted ground beneath my feet, trying to focus on anything and everything except that old familiar call of the wild and what it’s about to do to me.
At the glacier-capped peak of the mountain, ice shards crunch beneath my boots, the sound cutting through the silence of the night. I peer over the jagged cliff and my glance instantly darts to some campers hiking through the lush green valley some eight hundred feet below.
Deep inside my wolf stirs, letting me know what she wants. What she’s been trained to do. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle and a shiver moves through me. I carefully back away from the embankment, away from temptation.
My eyes slip shut as I diligently fight an internal battle to defy nature. I realize it’s impossible, but it still doesn’t stop me from trying to resist the power the moon has over my kind.
When a rough, callused palm touches my cheek, the gentle caress a clear attempt to settle my unease, my lids spring open, and I suck in a sharp breath.
“It’s okay, Pride. I’m here.”
The softness in Logan’s voice draws me in and trickles down my spine like warm summer rain. I can feel him—too close. I try to inch away, but he doesn’t let me. He grips my arms and pulls me to him. When our bodies collide, my head jerks up with a start and my gaze clashes with his. The silver glow from the full moon highlights the pewter in his eyes and just below the surface I can see his wolf pacing.
Strong fingers rake through my long, tangled hair and draw my head against his chest. He dips his chin and buries his face in my knotted curls. With the softest voice, he murmurs, “You have to trust me.”
Trust?
I eye him with uncertainty. After everything we’ve been through, I want to trust him, but I know what my wolf wants.
What she’s capable of.
I shake my head and struggle to pull away, but he grasps me tight and splays one large palm over the small of my back, his warm, powerful hand attempting to chase away my unease.
“I can get you through this,” he assures me. A gentle tug on my hair forces me to look at him. “I promise I won’t let you hurt anyone.”
His soothing words do little to calm me. Not when I know what my wolf is capable of.
“What if you can’t? What if I—”
“You won’t.” He pulls me in tighter to offer reassurance and presses his mouth against my temple. His soft lips brush over my skin and in a moment of weakness I accept his warmth, my wolf taking comfort in his quiet strength and allowing it to help me forget what I am and the danger I pose to those innocent people below.
Logan makes a strange noise, a half-laugh, half-growl and dips his head. With our lips only inches apart, his hair brushes over my cheek and he pulls me closer, anchoring me to him. As he packages me in his arms, my throat constricts and heat explodes inside me.
“Logan,” I begin and wet my lips. When I see turbulence in his eyes, I wonder if he’s going to pull away from me again, or is this the moment when he’s finally going to kiss me.
“Yes?”
Before I can answer his lips find mine and I gasp as a shiver wracks my body. But Logan doesn’t pull back, doesn’t address my shock. Instead, as foreign sensations explode inside me, he deepens the kiss and takes full possession of my mouth.
When he growls, need unfurls inside me and a fine shudder licks up my spine, catching me off guard. As intense pleasure courses through my veins, it instantly distracts me from the temptation below. For a moment I forget about those campers, the full moon, and the hunger gnawing in my stomach. I concentrate only on the sensations slamming into me as I let them pull me under like a tsunami wave. Never in my life have I felt such heat in my blood, such excitement bubbling up inside me.
His hands settle on my hips and when he draws me closer, I can’t seem to think with any clarity. When his fingers bite into my skin hard enough to leave a bruise, I begin to unravel like an old woolen scarf.
His heat reaches out to me and a split second later my world tilts on its axis. Feeling dizzy, I focus on the sweet cinnamon flavor of his mouth, knowing I’m about to melt like a summertime Popsicle. Good God, I’ve never been kissed like this before.
Never like this.
“Kiss me back, Pride,” he murmurs into my mouth. I part my lips and as his scent swirls around me sweat breaks out on my body.
Caught up in the moment I let myself get lost in his touch. His hands slide to my back and he holds me tighter. Despite the urgency of the situation, he doesn’t rush t
hings. Instead, we exchange kisses for a long time, until heat spreads through my entire body and my blood fires from simmer to inferno.
A raging fever builds inside me, but this time it’s not from his touch, or from the brush of his lips over mine. Powerless to resist the pull of the moon, I break free from his hold and step back. Logan’s silver eyes rake over me and it’s all I can do to catch my breath as my primal side wrestles for dominance.
My clothes rip and I realize that I’ve left no time to remove them. But I can’t think about such things right now, not with the way my wolf is clawing its way out of my body. As always, blinding pain sears my insides and I clutch my stomach. Heat boils my blood and I arch my back and let loose a deep, guttural moan.
“Stay with me, Pride. Listen to my voice.”
My legs wobble and I drop to the ground next to my shredded clothes. The groaning of my joints, sliding and shifting into place, cuts through the quiet around us. Tawny colored fur sprouts from my skin and shelters my exposed flesh from the harsh mountain elements.
Logan drops to the snow-packed ground beside me, waiting for me to complete my transformation before he begins his own. His age and strength make him much more adept at prolonging the change.
My muzzle punches out of my mouth, and the world around me begins to alter, fading in and out of existence. Blood pumps quickly through my veins and that’s when I notice the hunger churning inside me. I turn away from Logan and savagely toss my head from side to side.
“Focus on me,” Logan’s deep voice commands.
My nails extend and with much effort I angle my chin to see him. Rainbows of color swirl before my eyes, and then the forest fades to a dull gray. I try to concentrate on his voice. But the pain is too much. Burning. Intense. I cry out.
As my cartilage slides into place, my girlish scream turns into a dark howl. It echoes off the mountain and sends a flock of birds into flight. Silence falls once more as I pull my lips back to expose sharp fangs.