to ensure no one was watching and untied
the laces at the fly of her pants. Shivering
with cold, she wished she’d remembered
to put on her cloak before venturing
outside. Once she had finished relieving
herself, she readjusted her clothing and
headed back for the cabin, looking
forward to the warmth of the fire. She
found her progress hindered, however, by
three enormous, snarling Wolves.
CHAPTER 5
Maralee’s hand moved automatically to
the sword hilt at her belt and found
nothing but empty space. The center Wolf
—a
large,
dark
brown
creature—
advanced
on
her,
baring
sharp,
carnivorous fangs. He growled and barked
at her until she backed away. The cabin
appeared against her back. Trapped and
unarmed, she had no chance of survival.
Her heart seized in her chest.
“Go away,” she tried, waving her
hands at the Wolf. “Shoo!”
The Wolf seemed to smile at her as if
it knew she was defenseless. It took
another step closer and Maralee began to
inch sideways along the wall. Another of
the Wolves appeared next to her. It
snapped at her ankle to stop her from
proceeding. She emitted a squeak of
terror. The third Wolf circled around to
her opposite side and sank down low to
the
ground,
growling
a
warning.
Surrounded with no sword at her hip,
she’d never felt more naked. The center
Wolf, who seemed to be in charge of the
small band, leapt forward. It hit her
shoulders with its massive paws and
slammed her back against the cabin.
Holding her pinned to the wall, the Wolf
growled in her face, its lips curled, nose
wrinkled, breath hot and moist against her
cheek. She was too terrified to scream or
even draw breath.
“Maralee, are you all right out there?
What’s taking so long?” Nash’s heavenly
voice sounded from the side of the house.
“Nash!” she managed to scream.
As Nash rounded the building, the
three Wolves swiveled their heads in his
direction. He didn’t even raise his voice
and they scattered with their tails between
their legs. A sharp pain pierced her
shoulder as the Wolf pinning her to the
wall scratched her in its haste to flee.
“What in the hell?” Nash muttered,
watching the three Wolves disappear into
the darkness with narrowed eyes. He
rushed over to Maralee who staring up at
the waning gibbous moon rising above the
trees. Not full. Where had they come
from? And why had they attacked
unprovoked?
“Are you hurt?” he asked, touching her
face.
“I think so,” she said shakily. “My
shoulder.”
He glanced down at the red stain
spreading across her white shirt above her
collarbone. “You’re bleeding,” he said,
touching the wound with trembling fingers.
“What were they thinking?”
By ‘they’, Maralee assumed he meant
the three hungry Wolves that had tried to
eat her.
“That I look tasty?” She laughed
nervously.
“I’m sure that’s not it,” he murmured.
“I’ll have to go after them, but first we
need to get you inside and treat your
wound.”
Go after them? What did he think he
could do against three malicious Wolves?
He wrapped an arm around her back
and urged her forward. She stumbled on
wobbly knees. Without a shred of
hesitation, Nash scooped her up into his
arms and carried her towards the front
door.
“This isn’t necessary,” she said,
though she clung to him and snuggled into
his warmth. “If I’d had my sword—”
“You would have killed those boys,”
Nash said. “Do you really think that’s the
answer?”
“If you hadn’t shown up, they would
have killed me. I have a right to defend
myself!”
“If they wanted to kill you, you’d
already be dead,” he said. “Still, I can’t
let them get away with this.”
He carried her into the house and set
her down near the fire on the bearskin rug.
His fingers found the buttons of her shirt
and began unfastening them. She caught his
hand.
“What do you think you are doing?”
she sputtered.
“Treating your wound.”
He stared at her for a moment and her
hand dropped. He finished unbuttoning her
shirt, pushed the fabric from her shoulder,
and looked at the wound. Blood leaked
from three parallel gashes. Maralee was
more concerned that her bustier was in
plain view, but his eyes did not stray to
the curve of her breasts swelling above
her underclothes. She squelched her
disappointment. Proper young ladies
didn’t want men to ogle their partial
nakedness. Did they?
“This is pretty deep,” he said, touching
the area just beside the three long
scratches that marred her skin.
“It’s not bad,” she said breathlessly.
He didn’t respond, but instead
lowered his head and drew his tongue
over the wound.
Maralee stiffened. “What are you
doing?”
“This needs to be cleaned.” He
glanced up at her with concern.
He can’t be serious.
She stared at him, too shocked to
voice a complaint. He lowered his head
again, lapped up the excess blood, and
then licked the wound with slow, gentle,
methodical strokes. He continued until the
painful sting had lessened to nothing and
the bleeding had stopped. Maralee was
lost in the feel of his tongue against her
flesh. Her breasts felt oddly heavy, their
tips taut with need. She wondered what
his tongue would feel like against her
nipples and shuddered.
“Are you cold?” he asked, looking up
at her again.
Couldn’t he tell she was on fire? She
moved away from him, flushing with
embarrassment. “I’m all right,” she said,
turning her back to him. She gripped the
sides of her shirt before her, hiding the
evidence of her arousal.
“I’ll be gone for a little while,” he
said and climbed to his feet.
She looked up at him, her eyes on his
mouth, which was capable of so many
wondrous things.
“Don’t leave me alone.” She wanted
him to stay. To give her more pleasure
; with his tongue.
He knelt down beside her and cupped
her cheek. “You’re safe in the house,” he
assured her, obviously misunderstanding
her plea. “I won’t be gone long.”
He kissed her forehead with the same
type of affection he bestowed on his young
niece and then stood to go to the door.
“Nash?”
“Stay in the house, Maralee,” he
demanded.
He left. Maralee sighed forlornly and
stared at the fire unseeingly. He could
have stayed with her and kissed her like
before. She wouldn’t have minded.
Instead, he’d gone to search for three
ferocious Wolves. What exactly did he
think he could do about them anyway? Did
he think they were his pets? These weren’t
docile, domesticated dogs. They were
beasts. Vicious monsters.
“Fool,” she whispered, “he’ll end up
getting himself killed.” Maybe she should
have gone with him. But what good could
she do without her sword? He’ll regret
taking it from me. And she would get it
about Nash that made her so complacent.
CHAPTER 6
Nash moved to the corner of the porch and
removed his clothing, glancing back at his
front door to make sure Maralee wasn’t
watching.
Once
naked,
he
shifted
effortlessly into his other form and jumped
from the porch. The blackness of his pelt
blended in perfectly with the darkened
forest. If not for the white crescent on his
forehead, he would have been practically
invisible. He went to the corner post and
lifted his leg, not knowing why he had the
sudden urge to mark his territory, but
succumbing to the need regardless. He
repeated the action on the other end of the
porch and then trotted towards the stream
where he guessed he’d find Maralee’s
attackers.
As expected, the three young Wolves
were sitting beside the stream with
several adolescent females. Apparently,
they thought they’d displayed their
budding masculinity by cornering the
enemy and frightening her. Zorn, the
largest and oldest of the three Wolves and
the one who had scratched Maralee’s
shoulder, was having his ears licked by
the female beside him. Nash’s eyes
narrowed. So, they thought they’d done
something deserving of praise. If they
wanted adult treatment, they’d best be
willing to take responsibility for their
misdeeds.
Nash jumped from between the trees.
He landed on one of the smaller Wolves,
flattening him with his huge front paws.
The young Wolf yelped, more surprised
than hurt, and tried to scramble from
beneath Nash’s feet. Nash barked at him
ferociously and the Wolf laid still, in a
pose of complete submission—head
between his paws, ears flat against his
head, tail limp with defeat.
The three females trotted off to the
sidelines to watch. This wasn’t their fight,
but they were obviously curious to see if
Zorn would challenge the alpha-male.
The younger of the two remaining
males, a buff colored Wolf, sprang
towards Nash, growling and snarling. His
spunk impressed Nash. It wasn’t often a
scrawny thirty-five-year-old adolescent
challenged a full-grown adult. Still, he
couldn’t be allowed to succeed. Nash rose
onto his hind legs and hit him in the chest
with both forepaws. The young Wolf flew
backwards and landed in the frigid stream
with a splash.
Nash watched to make sure he was
able to drag himself out of the water. Nash
hadn’t instigated this fight to cause injury,
but rather to demonstrate dominance.
While Nash was distracted, Zorn
jumped on his back, teeth sinking into the
back of his neck. Nash threw him off and
turned to face him. Nash’s hackles rose,
increasing his apparent size, as he
growled a warning. Snarling, Zorn took a
step forward, and then, seeming to realize
he couldn’t win, backed off. To ensure his
message was perfectly clear, Nash jumped
on Zorn, pinning him to the ground with
his body weight. The teen whimpered, but
didn’t move. After a moment, Nash moved
away, but Zorn didn’t get up. He was
expected to retain his pose of submission
until the victor of the battle left.
The three females approached Nash at
once, licking his face, presenting their
hind ends to him for the customary sniff.
He didn’t humiliate them by refusing to
show interest, though he felt none. The
females were too young. They were not in
estrous, and though fighting always
aroused him and any one of the girls
would have stood still while he sated his
lust, he wouldn’t take advantage of his
position in the pack. He sniffed each
female in turn, exciting them with his
attention, and then trotted in the direction
of his cabin.
Zorn’s voice stopped him. “Why,
Nash?” he asked, his voice cracking with
human form and sat, naked, in the traces of
snow on the stream bank. “Why do you
care so much about that horrible human?
She murdered your brother. She killed
Cort. You should kill her and be done
with it. If you’re not Wolf enough to do it,
I will.”
Nash took his human form as well. He
wasn’t sure how to make this boy
understand. “She killed Cort because she
doesn’t understand us. She is the last of
the Wolf Hunters. I think if she comes to
know us, then she will no longer try to
bring harm to our pack. Maybe she can
even help with our curse.” Nash’s
research on the curse hinted at such, but
wasn’t exactly clear on the how or why.
For years, he’d try to convince the pack
that the Hunters were the key to their
salvation, but had given up on that avenue
when he’d believed that they’d died out.
Maralee had rekindled his hope for peace
after five hundred years of strife.
Zorn made a sound of disbelief. “You
place a lot of faith in a killer.”
Nash nodded. “Perhaps. She has
twenty-six days to prove it’s deserved. If,
by the next full moon, she still clings to
her murderous ways, I will not prevent the
pack from slaying her.”
Zorn’s face cracked with a delighted
smiled.
“Until then, you will bring no harm to
her,” Nash continued. “If you try to
frighte
n her again, or hurt her in any way,
you won’t get off with a warning.
Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Zorn said, ducking his
head. Nash never handed out empty
threats.
Nash gave him one long look and then
took his Wolf form again, thankful for the
warmth his thick fur provided. How was
he supposed to convince Maralee they
weren’t animals if members of his pack
behaved as such? He quietly padded
through the forest back to his cabin and
found his clothes on the porch. Taking his
human form, he redressed quietly and then
let himself back into the house. His heart
thudded with panic when he found the rug
near the fire vacant. The rest of the house
was dark, but flickering came from the
kitchen. He took a step in that direction.
“Is that you, Nash?” Maralee called
and peeked out of the kitchen at him.
He didn’t understand why relief
lightened his chest at seeing her. He
smiled and moved towards her in several
long strides. She gasped in surprise when
he pulled her against him and claimed her
mouth with a hungry kiss. Fighting always
ignited his instinctual need to mate. He
was not likely to be safe company for an
innocent young human this evening. One
who always smelled ready to mate.
Maralee didn’t dissuade his advances.
She buried her fingers in his hair and
drew him closer, making little sounds of
pleasure in the back of her throat. He tore
his mouth away from hers and looked
down at her. He had never mated in his
human form before, and wasn’t sure how
to proceed. He knew what a Wolf would
do in such a situation.
He backed her into the round, kitchen
table. She couldn’t seem to look away
from his eyes. Hers were wide and silver
in the dim candlelight of the kitchen. He
knew he must seem feral to her, but rather
than looking afraid, she seemed intrigued
by his dominating behavior. He turned her
around and bent her over the table,
pressing her face and torso against the
unyielding wood with one large hand. He
dropped to his knees behind her and
pressed his face between her legs,
inhaling the intoxicating scent of her
woman’s flesh. Sweet heaven, her scent
awakened his lust.
“Nash?” she squeaked.
His fingers dug into her hips and he
held her still to nuzzle her through the
fabric of her pants. She shuddered but
didn’t try to stop his invasion. He hoped it
wasn’t because she was afraid of him. He