Defying Destiny (53 page)

“Well, she’s an unmarried young lady, so I

suppose it is serious, but she’s not ill.

She’s pregnant.”

Pregnant.
The word seemed foreign.

She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

They weren’t talking about her, obviously.

Her one and only lover had been sterile.

She couldn’t be pregnant. Nevertheless,

her hand moved to cover her abdomen

protectively.
Nash, why didn’t I fight for

you?
she wondered.
Why did I give up so

easily? I had everything when you were

with me. I don’t need anything but you.

Why aren’t you here when I have

something important to tell you? You

would have been so happy to find out

that you were going to be a father.

She sat up on the bed she was laying

upon, startling the two men who were

discussing her condition with worried

looks on their faces. She recognized

Trayburn obviously, but the other man was

a stranger to her. “Is what you said true?”

she asked the unknown man. “Am I

pregnant?”

He avoided her eyes and nodded

slightly. Perhaps they expected her to be

upset or at the very least concerned. Not

elated. But she was.

“I can’t believe it,” she murmured,

climbing from her bed and grabbing

Trayburn in an enthusiastic embrace. “I’m

going to have a baby. I have to find Nash.

I have to tell him.” She released Trayburn

and kissed the astounded doctor on the

cheek before shaking his hand vigorously.

“Thank you, Doctor. There’s no way

you’re mistaken about this, is there?”

“The blood test was definitely

positive,” he told her anxiously, “though

by physical exam I determined you are not

very far along.”

She hugged him again. “Trayburn,

have a horse saddled. I’m leaving right

away.”

“But it’s the middle of the night.”

“I can’t get to him fast enough,” she

said, feeling as if she were weightless

from the happiness bubbling inside of her.

“Miss

Decatur,”

Trayburn

said,

grabbing her by the arms and giving her a

shake. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about what’s important

to me,” she said, “and about what will

make me happy without any consideration

for anyone else.”

He gave her an odd look. “But Miss

Decatur…”

“Have my horse brought around front.

I’ll be down in ten minutes.” She retrieved

her empty backpack and began to stuff

things inside.

Trayburn and a very confused doctor

left her to her packing. In less than five

minutes, she stood in front of the stables

waiting anxiously to return to her love.

She would do whatever necessary to be

beside him. She could give him what he

wanted. What he needed. She could give

him a family. When William shuffled out

of the stables, yawning widely with a half

asleep horse in tow, she smiled brightly.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever

seen you smile like that,” William said.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this

happy.”

“Where are you going at this time of

night?” he asked. “If you wait a few

minutes I’ll get my horse and come along

with you.”

“I can’t wait, William,” she said,

putting her foot in the stirrup and hoisting

herself up onto the horse.

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe

never. Thanks for everything.”

She spun her horse around and kicked

him into a reluctant canter. Just outside the

gates of the Decatur estates, her horse

neighed with fright and stopped short,

tossing his head agitatedly. Maralee clung

to the saddle.

“Whoa, boy,” she called, trying to

calm her spooked horse. “Easy there.

Easy!”

She heard what had spooked her horse

then. It was the threatening growl of an

enormous brown Wolf. The horse was

fighting its bit, rearing as it attempted to

dislodge its passenger. Maralee refused to

fall. She could only think of Nash’s baby,

and how her recklessness might bring him

or her harm. She loosened her hold on the

reins, hoping the horse would calm with a

gentler hand. Unfortunately, the Wolf

charged at that moment and sank its teeth

into the horse’s hind leg. The horse

shrieked in pain, its front legs flailing

madly and Maralee could only hope for a

soft landing as she tumbled from the

saddle to the ground. The horse took off as

fast as his bleeding leg could carry him.

The Wolf turned his attention to Maralee.

Maralee struggled to her feet, her hand

automatically going to her belt for her

absent sword. Finding no familiar hilt to

wrap around, her hand closed into a fist

instead.

“So are you going to kill me, just

because my aunt commands you to?” she

sputtered angrily at the Wolf. He had

lowered the front half of his body to the

ground, his hackles raised and teeth bared

as he prepared to attack. “I know you can

understand me and I know there is as much

human in you as there is Wolf. I don’t hunt

your kind any more. I just want to be left

in peace as you want to be left in peace.”

She might as well been talking to a

wild wolf, as effectual as her words were.

The Wolf sprang towards her and just

before his front paws struck her shoulders

a blur of black fur careened into the

brown Wolf, tossing him several yards. At

first, Maralee thought the other Wolf,

Marc, had come to her aid, but she

glimpsed the shape of a white crescent

moon over his left eye and she knew it

was Nash.

She was torn between the elation of

seeing him and concern for his safety as

the brown Wolf climbed to his feet and a

second black Wolf tore from between the

trees that lined the lane. Before she could

call a warning to Nash, he spun around

and ran straight for her. He stopped, their

eyes meeting for scant seconds in the

moonlight and then he turned around and

presented his back to her. Something was

strapped across his back. A small bundle

of clothes and her father’s sword.

He barked at her and she could only

assume that he wanted her to take them

from him. She removed both the bundle

and the sword and he surged forward

again, landing both paws forcefully on the

other black Wolf and knocking him to the

ground. The brown Wolf joined in the

foray. Maralee watched, horrorstruck, as

the Wolf fight ensued. She couldn’t tell if

Nash was winning or losing. She couldn’t

distinguish the growls or the yelps from

each other. She knew that she had to do

something. She had to help Nash. He

couldn’t fight them alone. She didn’t want

to kill anymore, but she couldn’t see any

other option. Surely if Nash had given her

the silver sword, he expected her to use it.

She drew the sword and tossed the

sheath aside. Its weight was so familiar,

but the feeling of uncertainty in her chest

was entirely new. She took a step towards

the snarling, snapping Wolves and

hesitated. Her moment of indecision

allowed the two minions to pin Nash

down and tear into his throat.

“No!”

She surged forward. Slashed one Wolf

along the side. Stabbed the other in the

shoulder.

Both yelped and then turned their

attention to her.

She stared at them in disbelief.

Neither had succumbed to the silver’s

poisonous affects. She looked down at the

sword in her hand to make sure that it was

indeed her father’s. There was no

mistaking it. It was tarnished from lack of

attention and had traces of fresh blood on

the blade. Distracted, Maralee didn’t even

see the Wolf coming. Huge paws

connected with her shoulders and she fell

flat on her back, the sword flying from her

grasp. She hit the ground with enough

momentum to knock the wind from her

lungs.

“Wait.” She huffed several times

trying to catch her breath as the brown

Wolf stared down at her with malevolent

amber eyes. Nash’s blood stained his

snout. “That sword was s-silver.”

The Wolf melted instantly into his

human form. Maralee was surprised. She

didn’t know any Wolf, besides Nash that

could transform in front of her.

“What did you say?” Jack asked, his

eyes narrowing.

“I just cut you with a silver sword.”

“It can’t be true,” he snarled. “You’re

lying.”

“I’m not lying,” she insisted. “The

curse…” She paused as the enormity of it

settled over her. “The curse must be

broken.”

Marc, still in the form of a black Wolf,

sniffed her sword and howled.

“What did he say?” Maralee asked

Jack, who was still pinning her to the

ground by her shoulders.

“The sword smells like silver.”

“You see. Nash broke the curse. He’s

a Guardian. Do you see the crescent on his

forehead?”

Jack looked at the fallen Wolf lying

several yards away.

“A Guardian?”

“A Guardian is capable of breaking

the curse, correct?”

Jack gazed down at her suspiciously.

“How do you know all of this? How do

you know a Wolf, a Wolf Guardian no

less? You’re a murdering Decatur, aren’t

you? Your aunt has been protecting our

pack by keeping you away, but you came

back to kill us all, didn’t you?”

She shook her head. “Nash is my

lover,” she said, “the father of our unborn

child. By creating a life with a human,

Nash has broken the curse. If you kill me,

our baby will also die. If that happens, the

curse will revert and the poisonous silver

already circulating in your bloodstream

will prove toxic.” She was improvising.

She had no idea if her theory was correct,

but she seemed to be convincing enough to

earn the Wolf’s consideration.

“The curse has been broken?” he said

quietly. “And that is a Guardian? And you

carry the Guardian’s child?” He paused,

thinking, as Maralee watched blood gush

from the wound on Nash’s throat. “Silver

is no longer poisonous, so does that mean

the madness beneath the full moon will

also be gone?”

“I’m sure it must be,” she rushed. “Can

I please go to Nash now? I promise to

leave your people in peace. Surely you

want to tell them the curse has been

lifted.”

The black Wolf, Marc, who had been

listening to their entire exchange, barked

and wagged his tail. Jack melted into his

Wolf form and moved off Maralee. He

stared down at her for a moment, licked

her cheek and darted off towards the

woods to the west of the Decatur estates.

Maralee climbed to her feet and raced

to Nash’s side, dropping to her knees

beside him and leaning over him to check

for signs of life. He seemed to be

breathing but was unconscious and no

matter how much she called his name, or

tried to shake him awake, he didn’t

respond.

“Maralee?” a voice asked anxiously

behind her.

She started and glanced up at William

whose worried face was blurred by the

tears in her eyes.

“Is that a Wolf?” William asked,

eyeing Nash’s limp body nervously.

“We have to get him up to the house.

He’s hurt pretty badly,” Maralee said,

trying to lift him from the ground, but he

was too heavy.

“But…” William whispered. “It’s a

Wolf.”

“Help me, William!”

“Maralee, what—”

“Please. I’m not strong enough to lift

him,” she cried.

William sighed heavily and bent to lift

the limp Wolf into his arms. “He’s

heavy,” he complained, but walked

forward.

“What will I do if he doesn’t pull

through this?” Maralee murmured to

herself. “He doesn’t even know about the