forest.
Then…nothing.
***
Adam
Wiping the last of the suds from a plate, I stacked it back in the cupboard, and closed the door. The repetitive task had proved to be therapeutic, allowing the last bits of stress and worry from real life to fade away. I glanced around the sparse room, looking for inspiration. What the hell was I was meant to do now? Read? Sleep? Think? All things that I didn’t have time for at home, but now given the chance…I didn’t know what to do with myself. I should be enjoying the peace and quiet, damn it. Escaping from pack life, just for a couple of days was the only thing that kept me sane, allowing me to carry out my duties, and put up with all the different kinds of bullshit that came with being the Alpha. So why, this time, couldn’t I just relax?
I knew why. In less than 24 hours I had to go back…and they would want an answer. I was only just entering my fortieth winter, yet the uprising had started, demanding that I take a mate — any mate — and produce an heir. I smacked my hand down hard on a wooden table. I just needed more time, maybe another winter…or two — she was still out there, I was sure of it! My true mate was not fucking dead. I couldn’t — no, I wouldn’t believe it.
She is not… my wolf growled in my head.
I felt like the walls were trying to close in on me, trapping me, pinning me down. I needed to get outside, to run and hunt. Tugging my t-shirt over my head, I strode to the door, flinging it open, and took a deep, lung cleansing breath. The pale, snow clad sky dazzled me for a moment, reflecting off the wintry blanket that cocooned my beloved forest. It was a sight for sore eyes, one I never grew tired of.
“Let’s run,” I said, giving my wolf a nudge inside my head. No one came out this far, this deep into the wild. We could run and play, no need to hide or be careful. “If only—”
A shrill scream pierced the quiet, anguished and in pain. My head spun to the right. Not too far away. What kind of idiot traipsed around a forest in this weather, and at this time of day. The sun was fading quickly, dusk on its heels. Soon the temperature would plummet, freezing the snow into ice.
“The kind of idiot that’s lucky to have me around,” I muttered, flinging myself down the steps in the direction of the scream.
Arms pumping, I ran flat out — or rather, waded in several places — through the snow, bitterly wishing I had remembered to put a jacket on, or at least my t-shirt. A wolf’s coat sure handled the cold better than human skin, I thought, my teeth grinding against the cold.
It had been a woman’s scream, I was sure of it. Now where was she? And what was she doing all the way out here? I sniffed the crisp air, opening my senses wide. A faint smell of cinnamon whispered through the air, carrying with it the scent of fur…and the tang of blood. A female wolf — a shifter. Injured.
I doubled my speed, dodging around tall fir trees, following the scent.
Here. She was here…somewhere? I rocked to a halt, blood thundering through my veins, my whole body tense — searching for her. Scanning the area my gaze snagged on a fallen tree…and the paw prints leading up to it. Deep and jagged, they had obviously been made in a hurry.
I listened intently. There — a slow, sluggish heartbeat. Faint but still pumping. Lurching forward, I dodged around the tree, half afraid of what I would find.
A woman lay sprawled in the snow, as naked as the day she was born. Her skin was pale, tinted an unhealthy blue, and her cushion of snow had been stained a garish red.
Damn, she was beautiful! The thought flashed through my mind, completely inappropriate but gut wrenching in its fervor. Every protective instinct I possessed roared to the surface, demanding that I care for her, protect her…and possess her.
Where the hell had that come from?
Leaning down, I carefully gathered her into my arms, her body small and soft, and hugged her tight against
Gemma Mawdsley
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