Blood of the Wolf

  Blood of the Wolf

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Blood of the Wolf

  by T. L. Shreffler

  www.runawaypen.com

  Copyright (c) 2010 Theresa Shreffler

  All rights reserved. Unauthorized redistribution is prohibited. Smashwords edition.

  Check out more of the Wolves of Black River Series!

  Mark of the Wolf

  Blood of the Wolf

  Dawn of the Wolf (available soon)

  Prologue

  All she ever loved was destroyed in the fire.

  It was a miracle that she survived. Only fourteen years old, her childhood had ended on that night. She could still see the flashing gold flames that leapt into the sky, licking at a sparkling backdrop of stars; she had been thrown on her back by the blast, tumbling across wet grass to skid to a halt at the base of a chain-link fence. Tears stung her eyes and her hands shook, red and burned by the flash of heat.

  She gazed, stunned, at the sight of the burning bodies. Dozens of people were running from the apartment complex, screaming and crying, sirens approaching in the background... but no sound registered in her ears. The fire burst from every floor of the building, and her parents were caught right in the middle of the inferno. She watched a burning body tumble from a window, black and cracked from the heat; she couldn't identify it. She was unable to turn away.

  It was a struggle to think but something inside of her took control, and she knew she had to get out of there—now. The explosion in the apartment hadn't been an accident. Jumping to her feet, Jaime turned and stumbled away, forcing her legs to move until she was flat out running. The air burned with smoke; each gasp was like breathing fire. Her chest ached. She threw an arm over her mouth and kept running, adrenaline pounding through her veins; her focus narrowed, her strength increased, and she fled into the night. For good reason, too — the explosion hadn't been an accident. Her family had been targeted — murdered — and they would come for her next.

  Her shoes slammed on the sidewalk. She was a good block away from her apartment complex when she suddenly heard the rev of an engine behind her. Her heart jolted sickeningly; up to that point she had been numb, as though running under water, but the harsh sound of the motorcycle snapped her back to reality. They were hunting her. They were chasing her down and planning on killing her, just as brutally as they had murdered her pack.

  “Dammit!” she cursed as a motorcycle rounded the corner behind her, skidding from the sharp turn. The rider was clad completely in leather, his features hidden behind a faceless black helmet. She couldn't make out anything more at the rate they were moving; she glanced up at the smoky sky and caught a glimpse of the moon. It was only half-full tonight. Changing into her werewolf form would be draining, but perhaps she could still use some of its power....

  Jaime focused and felt something stir slowly inside of her.... A sudden burst of energy flashed to her legs. Her muscles bulged and coiled. She lunged forward, faster than an Olympic runner, but she knew it was only a temporary fix. Under the half-moon, her energy would soon tire.

  A sudden howl rose up from behind her; her pursuers had sensed her. She glanced over her shoulder, enough to see that a pack of men had joined the motorcycle. They ran behind it, keeping pace with the bike, but never daring to pass their Alpha. They didn't carry any weapons because they didn't need them. She knew they were taunting her; if they really wanted to catch her, they could have by now... instead, they were enjoying the chase.

  Tears stung her eyes and Jaime bit her lip, forcing herself to remain in control. She had to be smart about this. As long as they hadn't caught her, there was still a chance to get away. She glanced sideways and saw a narrow alley leading to the next boulevard over. She took her chance, dodging down the shadowy corridor and leaping over a large dumpster that blocked her way. She forced herself to move faster and ignored the weariness in her arms and legs. Hopefully the obstacle would slow them down....

  No such luck. She reached the next main street and glanced behind her, just in time to catch a flash of black paint as the bike leapt over the large trash bin, defying all sense of gravity. It landed smoothly on the other side and she could almost sense the Alpha smiling. The rest of the wolves followed; they were closing in, chasing her like a wounded deer.

  “Hey, little girl!” a voice called from her other side, and she turned, terrified. Another section of the pack was emptying into the street in front of her. They were cornering her in, trying to ambush her. She took off running in the opposite direction, narrowly dodging both groups and flying down the sidewalk. She pounded down the street amidst silent buildings, her fists clenched and sneakers scuffing.

  I'm going to die, she thought frantically, her panic slowly consuming her. It was getting harder to breathe. The growing roar of the motorcycle completely covered the now-distant whine of sirens. I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die....

  “Got you!” a voice grunted. Suddenly an arm whipped out and grabbed her around the waist. Jaime shrieked as she was yanked off of her feet and backwards, hauled through the air until she found herself forced onto the front of the motorcycle, its leather-clad rider harsh and unyielding. Her back slammed against his chest, lean and hard beneath the padding of his jacket. His arm was like steel and wrapped around her. She screamed, writhing in his grasp and ripping at him.

  “Let me go, you bastard! Let me the fuck go!” A string of curses left her mouth; she didn't care if any of it made sense. The bike skidded slightly as it weaved along the street, yet the rider did not lose control. She kicked, trying to hit the handle bars, her long dark hair flying in her face. She couldn't see anything but her rage was overwhelming. Her parents' killer now held her in his firm, capable hands.

  “Shit,” the man grunted, his voice deep; the cuss fit on his lips. “Sit still!”

  “Fuck off!” she shrieked, and wrestled even harder. He slowed the bike down and tried to grab her around the throat—she bit down firmly on his hand.

  “Dammit! Bitch!” This time when the bike swerved, Jaime took her chance. Without hesitation, she flung herself away from her captor despite the speed and the trailing pack. Her side clipped the handlebars and then she was free, flying through the air, slamming into the ground with more force than she could have prepared for. With a soundless oof the air was knocked out of her and she went skidding across the pavement, protecting her head with her arms but scraping her entire right side. Pain lashed through her, cutting through her ribs, burning over her skin as it ripped and tore. She finally came to a stop when she hit the base of a brick wall, and she lay there for a moment, broken and sobbing, pain making it almost impossible to breathe. She couldn't move. For a long moment, she couldn't even hear or see; she was sure something was broken. She could taste blood in her mouth.

  “Fucking bitch, where'd she go?” She heard voices shouting, then the distinct sound of frantic sniffing as her pursuers tried to catch her scent. Thankfully she knew that they were still close to her apartment and the smoke from the fire was clogging the air. It muddled everything, helped by the already thick scent of car oil and exhaust. They could smell her, but they couldn't pin her d
own, thank God.

  Wincing, she opened one eye; the other was fast swelling up. Somehow she managed to land behind a fairly concealing line of bushes. She peered out from them now, her head close to the ground. Not twenty feet away, a group of about two-dozen people were striding back and forth, their motions high-strung and tense. A few more arrived on the scene as she watched. She held her breath, trying not to make a sound, squinting against the harsh glow of the streetlights. It had to be almost midnight; she wondered what her chances were of them giving up. She looked around carefully after a few more seconds, but couldn't find any reasonable means of escape; if she made even the smallest move, it would alert the hunters.

  A pair of black boots strode onto the scene, immediately drawing her attention, and the rest of the group paused. She watched the boots cross the pavement and stand slightly separate from the others.

  “Crazy bitch jumped off your bike, Alpha,” a young man growled.

  “Quiet, Aiden,” that deep, rocky voice answered. Definitely a man's voice. It sent cold chills down her spine, and briefly she remembered the strong arm around her, the crush of that rock-hard chest. The hair rose on the back of her neck. Those boots began to walk again, this time slowly, casually wandering around the area. Jaime bit her lip. She wanted to pant and sob from the pain in her side and the blood she knew was seeping through her shirt, but she couldn't make a sound. It would mean her life.

  Those boots wandered frighteningly close—so close that she could see the scuff marks and rubber treads along the bottom.

  “I know you can hear me.” That voice again; there was something evil there, something deep and chilling. “You're probably wondering why you are still alive... I assure you, its not because you've escaped.”

  Jaime winced as her ribs complained sharply; the pain was getting worse by the second. Her adrenaline was slowly wearing off as her body grew exhausted. The boots stepped closer.

  “Your pack was going to be killed, anyway,” the man said. “Your parents knew this, your Alpha knew this... they just didn't know when. So they planned ahead. Your parents and I made a deal.”

  Right, and you killed them, you bastard! she wanted to scream. She was still having trouble with that concept: she was alone now. She had nowhere to go, no place to run or hide. Alone. They were all dead.

  The man let out a bark of a laugh; it was rough and taunting. “Do you know what that means, little wolf? I came here to get you. You're mine.”

  Jaime frowned and shook her head, trying to clear it. What was he saying? It didn't make any sense; her parents had given her to this man? They wouldn't! She wanted to scream, she wanted to pound the ground in frustration. No!

  And why would he even agree to spare her? He was a ruthless killer. She wasn't any more valuable than the next wolf—was she?

  The whole night had been one horrible shock after another. Jaime forced herself to stay focused, pressing herself lower to the ground, bearing the pain and holding her breath.

  “Your parents knew they were going to die,” he spoke again, repeating the words that made her heart pound. His tone was matter-of-fact. “They wanted to save their precious baby girl.... You do realize what has happened tonight, don't you?” A pause. “You're alone now. Be at my side and join my pack. Reclaim your territory. It's for the best, my dear. It's what your parents wanted.”

  Suddenly Jaime felt something snap inside of her. Her heart raced and abruptly she saw red. Rage rushed through her, pure and clean, washing away her pain and weakness. She felt her canine teeth lengthen and sharpen, pricking into her tongue; suddenly, all she could think about was sinking her teeth into his neck. She wanted to attack him, to rip and tear at him, to taste his blood.

  “Just think, kid,” another step in her direction. “What have you left to lose?”

  “You fucking bastard!” The roar ripped from her throat. She launched herself from the bushes, feeling her teeth lengthen in her mouth, her eyes flashing with pure rage. She flew through the air, one hand outstretched and nails lengthened—she was going to claw the fucker. She was going to gash his eyes out, rip him open, feel the flesh beneath her fingers....

  He caught her mid-air, easily. Hand outstretched, he somehow bypassed her sharpened nails and snatched her by the throat, gripping her firmly with a rough laugh. She shrieked in anger, thrashing and biting, clawing at him, trying to hurt him in any way possible—but he continued to hold her by the neck, hefting her up into the air until her feet couldn't even touch the ground. She was choking; she couldn't breathe. Fuck, she couldn't breathe!

  He held her like that as her struggles became weaker and weaker, and the bloodlust faded from her eyes. They had turned an electrified yellow, but slowly dulled back down to an average hazel-brown. He studied her, staring at her face as she calmed, until finally she could stare back at him with coherent thought. She couldn't see him fully, since only the visor of his helmet was raised, but she could clearly see his pale, intense eyes. There was a keenness in his expression that spoke of acute intelligence.

  “There, now,” he said quietly, once she had fully recovered from her outburst. “Found you.”

  She spat at him, snarling, but he laughed and shook her slightly. “Enough of that, little wolf. I will let you go soon enough.... I just wanted to get a good look at the one who will serve as my mate.”

  “Never!” she growled, though it was hard to push the words past the hand at her throat.

  “It's too late for that, my dear,” he murmured again, and a cold grin passed over his face. “Your parents begged me to take you, and I gave my word. Werewolf law cannot be broken in these things... but I suppose you are too young to understand that yet.” He leaned his face close, so close that she could catch a whiff of his cologne, bringing his presence sharply into focus. “You're mine. You do realize you don't have a choice — right?”

  “I fucking hate you!” she wheezed, kicking her legs out at him though she was so weak she could barely move. “I'll kill you!”

  He laughed again; it grated across her skin, as painful as the asphalt had been. “I would expect nothing less from my future mate,” he grinned. Then abruptly his expression changed, and the coldness she saw sent fear skittering through her. “And you will be my mate. You cannot escape me, no matter how far you run.”

  Jaime would have said something, but at that moment he raised his helmet and pressed his mouth against hers — the kiss was demanding, harsh, taking her mouth and not asking questions. His lips controlled her, parting her easily as his tongue entered. Jaime wanted to bite it off — but somehow she couldn't. She was frozen to the spot, shocked, utterly confused at the strange and exciting emotions that swept over her. The heat settled in her belly like a wild thing.

  The kiss turned hard towards the end and he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking before biting down, sudden and sharp, blood blooming between them. She gasped, surprised, her head whirling.

  Then he released her. It took her a moment to realize that her feet were on the ground. She looked up at him, stunned; when he smiled, she could still see the smear of her blood on his lips. She stared at him stupidly, dazed, taking note of his height, the width of his strong shoulders. He was not a giant, but definitely of formidable posture, and his brown hair was silken and wild.

  “Run, little girl,” he murmured. “I will come for you when you are of age... and remember,” his hand reached out and gripped her hip suddenly, sliding into her waist where her wound was. He pressed his hand cruelly against her. “This belongs to me.”

  Jaime stared at him for a moment longer, shaking, rooted to the ground — then she turned and fled. She couldn't do anything else; she knew she couldn't fight him, not with his whole pack there. If he was giving her leave to run, then by God she was going to do it. She didn't look back; she didn't even think. Her feet hammered over the ground, carrying her in the first direction she turned, and she didn't care where she was going. She touched her lip—it was still tingling. He had kisse
d her. The asshole that had destroyed her pack had taken her mouth, just as he had taken everything else. She was alone now, just as he had said. Alone, and she would die before she ever joined him. He had called her his mate. The idea of it made her want to vomit.

  Yet somehow her body was still humming.

  I'll kill him, she vowed. One of these days, I'll fucking kill him.

  She ran down the dark, midnight streets, as fast as she could go until she collapsed in a cold sweat. She didn't know where she was, but she didn't care. In the morning she would worry about her life. In the morning she would figure out the future.

  For now, she wanted to die... but she would live to kill him first.

  Chapter 1

  His hand moved another inch up her thigh.

  Jaime laughed, pretending she didn't notice. She was drunk, high, and her whole body was buzzing. The night sky was dark above her, showered with stars. That's what she liked about this town: the seclusion and the nearby wilderness made everything more intense. The colors were brighter, the scents fresher.

  The picnic blanket beneath them gave relative protection against the dewy grass. To be honest, Jaime would have rather been on the bare ground, but she had to keep up the pretense of normality. Tonight was not a night to give in to her wilder nature. She had a mission, after all.

  She was a week or so shy of eighteen, about to graduate from high school, and by God she was not going to graduate a virgin.

  “You're so gorgeous, Jaime. You're incredible,” her date murmured. Jaime knew the words, she had heard them plenty of times; this wasn't her first time trying to get laid. Since the destruction of her pack, she had been shunted from foster home to foster home until she had finally wound up in the small town of Black River. Along the way she had sought out all kinds of male companionship: jocks, nerds, bad boys... but every time she reached this point, something always stopped her from the act. Either she would be interrupted, caught, or suddenly – inexplicably – her partner would lose interest and disappear. Some guys would even begin openly avoiding her.