Outlaw Valley Wolf (Silver Fox Ranch Book 2)

by Haley Weir

  Already, Wesley felt his fingers growing numb.

  He limped through the trees, shivering from the otherworldly infection. His vision flickered as though he were looking through stained shards of glass. His bones ached beyond belief. A shrill cry in the distance led him to a flowing river that connected to the lake. The human fell into the water, clawing at his skin as it turned ashen. Wesley tried to make it to the river’s edge, to help the human, but it was too late. He could not look away as the man’s teeth became sharp and jagged, causing his mouth to bleed profusely.

  Bones stretched to impossible lengths, bending at unnatural angles.

  Wesley watched the Wendigo Spirit crawl out of the man’s mouth and float away like dust on the wind, leaving behind a disfigured creature that would haunt Wesley’s dreams for years to come. He ran as fast as his feet would allow, trying to put some distance between himself and the creature in the river. Wesley made it back to the cabin, but not to his horse as his legs gave out. He looked down at the black veins that crept across his chest.

  Rain began to trickle from an obsidian sky. Wesley’s eyelids became heavy, lowering more and more each time he blinked. A figure shifted into sight, but he had no strength to protect himself. “Wesley!”

  Charlotte?

  He struggled against the nausea churning in his guts as her soft hand rested upon his cheek. It was not safe for her...

  ~*~

  Abandoned Mine

  Charlotte helped Jesse drag Wesley into the mine as the storm continued to rage beyond the shelter of the cavernous space. Her teeth clattered, and she hurried to start a fire as the temperature dropped. The horses were safe; Jesse had gone off somewhere to summon the Apache shaman that had helped Wesley once before. Charlotte’s trembling fingers struck a match against the cave wall and dropped it in the kindling. Heat wafted up as the flames grew.

  Light bounced off the walls, illuminating the harsh planes of his features even as sleep softened his expression. “You foolish man,” Charlotte whispered. She sniffled quietly and tried to peel off the wet layers of clothing from his body so he did not catch cold. Her teeth continued to click in the otherwise silent cave.

  When Wesley’s damp clothes had been removed, Charlotte swathed him in the extra clothes that Jesse had thought to pack. She then covered him in her blanket and moved him carefully onto her bedroll. With nothing left to do, she waited.

  Jesse and Itsá arrived a few minutes later. The Apache man lowered Wesley’s sleeve and removed the belt from around his arm. Charlotte was forced to look away when thick, black blood oozed from the wound. She helped Jesse secure Wesley’s horse with the others. “Do you think he will be alright, Mr. Porter?” she asked. “Itsá will be able to help him, right?”

  “I don’t know, Charlotte. Wesley coming out here on his own was about as smart as putting honey on your doorstep and hoping it keeps the bears away.” Jesse tied Wesley’s horse up and checked its hooves for damage before leaving the animal alone to eat. “As for whether he’ll make it out of this...I ain’t too sure about that. Abigail and Itsá barely saved his life the last time.”

  Something was wrong. Charlotte could sense that something had shaken Jesse. “What did you find out there when you went to look for the shaman?”

  “A camp. There was blood everywhere. I followed the trail to a pile of bones. Looked like they had been gnawed on,” the cowboy explained grimly. “What I saw was horrible, but it paled in comparison to what I found at that cabin. Some sort of ritual had gone down there.”

  “Ritual?”

  “Itsá was able to recognize a few of the symbols…” Jesse took a deep breath and glanced back at the opening of the mine. “The body in the cabin had been given as an offering to the Wendigo Spirit. Someone awakened it to start the prophecy. We think it was a witch or something like it.” Jesse reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small book. “This belonged to Abbey’s father. We found it on the body in the cabin.”

  “So...he was taken and used as an offering to awaken the Wendigo Spirit?”

  “No. The symbols say that it has to be a willing offering.”

  Charlotte wrapped her arms around herself, feeling rather ill. “Were there any survivors at the camp? Maybe they’ll make it back to town.”

  Jesse’s expression shifted, and anger entered his gaze. “Through the wolf inside of me, I can sense magic. Whoever survived that attack did not walk away human, Charlotte. I think...there are more of them out there—wendigos, I mean. Cannibals created by the Wendigo Spirit.”

  “How do we stop them?”

  The shrug of Jesse’s shoulders did nothing to comfort Charlotte. “Itsá is working on it.”

  “So, that thing is out there creating an army of cannibals, and we have no idea what we’re doing; is that what I’m supposed to get from this?” Charlotte looked out at the quarry in the distance. A rain of moonlight hit the surface of the lake, causing the surface to glitter as the rain poured. It would have been a beautiful sight had Charlotte not just discovered that there were monsters hidden in the trees. “He has to make it, Mr. Porter. Though we haven’t known each other long, I have grown to love Wesley.”

  “I can see it.”

  “I don’t know what I would do without him,” she whimpered. Charlotte felt just as weak and pathetic as she had when Baxter’s anger ruled her with an iron fist. Her heart broke for Wesley. She did not like seeing him hurt or ill. “I need to get back to him. He needs me.”

  Jesse gave Charlotte a little smile. “I think he needs you more than he realizes.”

  Charlotte appreciated his words but thought it best to keep to herself. She could hardly breathe, and the last thing they needed was for her to have a breakdown. Her chin lifted, and she walked briskly back towards the cave where Itsá worked on Wesley. “You are lucky to have found him before the corruption did too much damage. I was able to reverse the effects, but Wesley will be weak until he gets proper care.”

  “Thank you.”

  They fell into uncomfortable silence for several heartbeats before Itsá chuckled. “Ask me.”

  “Why could I sense that Wesley needed me when we were on the road?”

  The Apache man gave Charlotte a lopsided grin. “The bond between mates has a way of changing people in ways that cannot be explained. What some may call instinct, my people would call a gift. You felt that the man you love was in danger, and you acted without thinking about your own safety. That act of selflessness is rare. Hold on to it, and the ancestors will smile down upon you in times of need.”

  “Well, I need help now more than ever…”

  “And they are answering that call within you,” he said. “Wesley is beginning to awaken. Keep his heart safe, Charlotte Woodberry, and he will protect you. No male fights harder than one with something to lose. He will see you as a weakness. You must fight against his ignorance. No matter what he says, Wesley will not survive without you.”

  “I always thought love was a choice.”

  “Love is never a choice. The heart gets what it wants.”

  Chapter Six

  Colorado Territory

  Darkness filled Ethan Riker until his skin felt stretched too thin. Broken cries of terror burst from his chest and echoed through the valley. Jolts of pain sent waves of nausea through Ethan as he raked his nails against the stone surface of the canyon wall. Blood ran like a scarlet river along the rock.

  And then...nothing.

  Pure relief swept through Ethan. It was like he had slipped into a warm bath after a long day in the blacksmith shop, pounding away at slabs of iron with a mallet. But with that profound sense of peace came power—thick, sticky-sweet power that felt foreign to a man like Ethan. He was not alone. Something dark and tempting had made a home inside of his mind. "W-what do you want from me?" he begged as the disgusting taste of blood flooded his mouth.

  Ancient powers are aligning...and you will need me.

  "No," he cried, clutching his hair tightly in his
fists as if it could help banish the voice in his head. "I don't need you."

  The high-pitched voice cackled in Ethan's mind. I am already inside of you. Together, you and I can do great things.

  Ethan laughed bitterly. "Mama said great things weren't meant for folks like us."

  We can shape this world, create it in our own image.

  Ethan rested against the rock and lifted his arm to shield his eyes from the rising sun. "You killed my wife and her sister...what makes you think I'll be willing to do what you say? I’d rather die and be with my family than to—"

  Listen to me, human! I am a god. My power reaches beyond this world and into the next. Your family is safe where they are. Do not turn your back on the honor that I am bestowing upon you. In return, I can give you riches beyond your wildest dreams.

  Ethan turned his head and saw nothing but barren land. He could not risk going deeper into the canyon, nor could he venture out into what may have been a desert or stone valley. Ethan was disoriented and losing blood. He did not want the pain to return. Slowly, carefully, he nodded his head. The creature within him forced Ethan’s mouth to speak words he did not understand. A swirling vortex of black smoke bellowed just a few feet away, and a...woman walked out of the chaos. She was beautiful and treacherous.

  A lithe, muscular build with lush curves and tawny skin. The curtain of her raven-black hair nearly touched the ground as she stalked towards Ethan. White face paint was drawn in an intricate pattern beneath her left eye and a bit on her forehead. A single braid fell loosely in front of her face. Beaded necklaces garnished with the skulls of tiny animals draped from her neck, and the long skirt she wore was stained with blood. Her face was perfect, but her eyes were so light that Ethan had nearly mistaken her for being blind.

  The mysterious woman’s bare breasts swayed as she walked.

  Ethan gulped nervously as she knelt in front of him. She lifted her hand and swiped her fingers down his face, leaving behind a trail of something warm and sticky as she chanted in a strange language. He felt himself growing tired but fought against it. “What is your name?”

  A sly grin stretched across her face. “Kaia.”

  Before he could reply, Kaia slashed a narrow blade across his throat. Chanting grew louder, and dark clouds swirled overhead as he gurgled, gasping for breath. That thing inside of him grew stronger, pushing Ethan’s spirit out of his body. The Wendigo Spirit took hold of the vessel and lifted his hand to the torn throat, using magic to seal the wound. Kaia’s chanting stopped. She stood but bowed her head to the Wendigo Spirit.

  “You have done well. What of the others?” he asked.

  “They have surrounded the forest around the wolf den.”

  “Good. Return to them. I will summon you if needed.”

  Kaia eyed him from head to foot. “You have a white man’s face. You cannot call yourself by the names of our people. The skinshifters will suspect.”

  “I have looked into this human’s mind, and I know what he truly was. Ethan Tate was a notorious outlaw. Other bandits and criminals will be eager to follow him.”

  Kaia smiled once again and faded into a cloud of black smoke. The Wendigo Spirit returned to the forest where the wolf had challenged him. He followed the stench to a cave within the mines. An Apache shaman was with him, tending to his wounds. Though the Wendigo Spirit was not from these territories, he belonged to the forests, and the shaman was not welcome in his home. He bared his teeth, only to stay his hand when the sound of a woman’s singing floated on the wind. The spirits of the forest hummed along with her.

  She was safe from him.

  The Wendigo Spirit was confused. His power was unmatched in these lands; no one should have been able to resist him. He moved through the trees with an unmatched speed despite being confined to a human form. His eyes flickered over to the singing female, where she filled a cup with water. The Wendigo Spirit moved out of the shadows, careful to not alert the shaman or the wolf. She stopped singing instantly, eyes wide as she turned to face him.

  “What is your name?” the Wendigo Spirit asked.

  “Charlotte...Charlotte Woodberry.” She flinched away when he attempted to touch her.

  “There is something special about you, Charlotte Woodberry.”

  “I...who are you?”

  “The one who will set you free.” He grabbed the human, but she fought back. He struck hard and fast. The powerful blow sent her careening through the air. “It would be best if you just lay still, Charlotte Woodberry. I would not enjoy killing you.”

  ~*~

  Colorado Territory

  Her back hit the trunk of a tree so hard that she struggled to breathe.

  Charlotte's body ached in a way she had never felt before. Her legs trembled as she tried to stand up. The man kicked Charlotte onto her back, and she clutched her side. She blinked up at Ethan Tate’s face as it contorted with seething rage. Charlotte stomped her foot against his shin and ran towards the cave. She was too far away. No one heard her scream. Jesse had warned Charlotte not to go too far, but she hadn’t listened.

  “Wesley!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “Jesse!”

  Her skirt wrapped around her legs. Charlotte fell once more, but she reached down and ripped the fabric of her skirt until it was short enough to run properly. Back on her feet, Charlotte darted between the trees as quickly as she could manage. Jesse appeared right in front of her. “Someone is after me!”

  “Slow down, Charlotte. What are you talking about?”

  “There’s a man chasing me—” her words stopped short as five creatures came out from behind the trees. Jesse stiffened and pushed her behind him. “A-are those…?”

  “They’re wendigos.”

  “What do we do?”

  He reached back and lifted the hem of his jacket, revealing a hunting knife that was tucked inside of his belt. “Take it and cut through anything that gets too close. I want you to run as fast as you can back to the cave. I’ll try to buy you some time.”

  Before Charlotte could grab the blade, Jesse stumbled into her as the wendigo approached. They fell to the ground, and she scrambled on her hands in the mud to find the knife. Rain battered her waterlogged body as she searched for the weapon.

  A flash of lightning glinted off of the blade, and she scurried over to the hunting knife. A wendigo attacked, but Charlotte rolled to the side just in time. She slashed out with the blade and eyed the group of mangled beasts as they surrounded her. One lunged. Charlotte ducked and kicked another away with her muddy boots. Three surrounded her. Charlotte tried to avoid the claws as she held a firm grasp on the knife. But a wendigo leaped on top of her, jaws snapping as blood and drool trickled down her arms.

  Her arms trembled as she struggled against the weight of the creature.

  Charlotte flipped the blade in her hand and buried it in the wendigo’s chest until it shrieked loud enough to cause her ears to ring. Itsá shifted from his eagle form and landed nearby. Jesse was cornered by the wendigo. Charlotte called out his name to get the cowboy’s attention and tossed him the knife. Jesse stabbed the wendigo, wounding it badly, but they seemed to heal faster than anything she had ever seen before. Itsá made his way over to her. “Wesley is not well enough to fight. Go to him and get out of here before the Wendigo Spirit comes back.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Jesse and I must buy you some time,” the native man replied. “We do not know how to kill the wendigos, so we must fight for as long as we can.”

  Charlotte knew she could be brave for Wesley. She had to be.

  “I’ll protect him.” She plucked up her courage and waited for Jesse’s distraction. He transformed, startling the wendigos for a moment. Charlotte ducked and dodged the wendigos as they lunged for her. Jesse and Itsá cleared a path for her, and she sprinted towards the mines. The cave came into view up ahead. Teeth clamped around her ankle. Her screams reverberated off of the stone. Charlotte kicked and punched, but the foul cr
eature refused to let her go.

  She dug her fingers into the damp soil. One solid kick and the wendigo yelped. Charlotte felt the teeth leave her skin just as a deafening roar broke through the sounds of the fighting. Wesley came into view, and tears of relief escaped Charlotte. But a dark figure blocked her path. The man who attacked her by the water yanked Charlotte against his chest. Her feet dangled above the ground, and his face contorted into a snarl of pure contempt. “You sicken me, human.”

  Jesse let out a sound that made Charlotte wince.

  Her gaze darted over to where Wesley crawled out of the cave. He looked up at her and lifted his hand. Charlotte reached down and pulled a revolver from the man’s gun belt. She pulled back on the hammer and squeezed the trigger with it pressed beneath his chin. Charlotte was dropped back to the ground. She could not hear, and her ankle burned like fire, but she just needed to reach Wesley. Muddy water splashed up as she ran.

  The man appeared in front of Charlotte, and he shrouded her in shadow.

  She was no longer near the abandoned mines. Wherever she was, only darkness kept her company. There was no autumn breeze against her cheek or the chill of the rain. Not even the crisp scent of the forest lingered here. But Charlotte heard Wesley’s voice as he called out to her.

  Heat rushed through her body like flames reaching for the sky.

  The hairs on her arms stood erect as someone wrapped their bony fingers around her throat. Charlotte opened her mouth to scream, but something flashed before her eyes, and suddenly, she was alone. The walls that surrounded her were formed from some sort of crystal that glittered as a faint light reflected off of a shallow pool of water on the other side of the crypt. Notches had been carved into the crystal to house what looked like human skulls.

  Four native women stood on the opposite side of the water. “Welcome, sister.”

  “W-what? Who are you? Why am I here?” Charlotte asked.