Defying Destiny (9 page)

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

back. Soon. She wasn’t sure what it was

about Nash that made her so complacent.

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

emotion. The boy had reverted to his

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