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Authors: Cherise Sinclair

Winter of the Wolf (44 page)

BOOK: Winter of the Wolf
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“Number three—I’m missing something.”

“Apparently.” Zeb fingered the cahir scar on his right cheekbone and the new one below. Since his dark tan rendered the mark almost invisible, he turned his head and let the thin sunlight iluminate it.

“What the…!” Shay grabbed his chin and ran his fingers over the faintly blue antlers of the oathbound.

“No matter who makes the oath, brothers share,” Zeb

“No matter who makes the oath, brothers share,” Zeb said. The appaled guilt in Shay’s face was exactly why he hadn’t mentioned the scar before.

“Zeb.” Shay dropped onto the grass. “By the God, Zeb, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“I didn’t foresee it, but I wouldn’t have stepped away if I’d known.”

Shay was silent for a minute. “I’ve screwed up everybody.

I’d ask to be released from the oath if I thought it would do any good.”

“Never heard of Herne releasing anyone.”

“Me either.”

“I’m feeling a pul. Like something trying to drag me somewhere.” Zeb gave Shay a steady look. “Is that the cal?”

“Aye. Me, too.” He studied his hands. “It’l get stronger.” Sorrow was a lead weight in Zeb’s gut as he cleared his throat. “I’ve heard the Mother can erase a bond if she hasn’t blessed the lifemating yet.”

It took Shay a minute. “You want us to ask the Mother to remove the bond Breanne formed for us.”

“Fuck no, but I can’t think of anything else to do. Bree can’t survive going from town to town, waiting for us to die.

That’s not right, brawd. She deserves better. Lifemating.

Children.”

“By the God, it hurts to think of her with someone else.”

“Yeah.” More than pain. Zeb felt as if his soul was slowly being torn into pieces.

being torn into pieces.

* * *

A formal caling upon the Gods, requesting attention and action, wasn’t something a Daonain did lightly. The Cosantir had an open line to Herne; everyone else had to work to be heard. The Elders said the soul’s desire must be great enough to overcome the needs of the body: hunger, thirst, exhaustion.

The trappings of civilization had to be worn away.

And so they ran.

Hour upon hour. No food, no water, no shelter. Open to the elements. Slowly as Shay’s weariness grew, his mind quieted. The spirits guided his paws. His fur was matted by the pouring rain, his ears deafened by the thunder rumbling through the passes.

Zeb kept pace, a dark shadow on his right.

Just before dawn, the clouds started to part, showing the ful-bodied moon. He halted on a rain-dark ridge of rock, an island in the glaciers creeping down from the peaks.

Moonlight glimmered over the white expanse. Forest covered the valey below, and the scents of pine and cedar, wet granite, and distant deer drifted upward. Zeb’s shoulder pressed against his in a smal patch of warmth.

Through his paws, he felt the sweet touch of Mother Earth and a low hum like the thunder that had passed, marking the and a low hum like the thunder that had passed, marking the presence of Herne.

He formed his desire slowly. The thought of losing Breanne and Zeb made cuts in his heart and soul, but he steadily held his wishes up to the God and the Mother both.

Not Zeb’s wish—that the little wolf be set free to seek love elsewhere. She wouldn’t be happy. She’d be alone, and he couldn’t stand thinking of her alone. Or of seeing the grief in Zeb’s eyes when they left her. Of forcing Zeb into a life he hadn’t asked for.

No, Shay had made the vow. He should be the only one to have to walk the trail to the end.

Please. Remove the brother bond—and the oathbound
one—from Zeb. Let him be free to lifemate Breanne. Let
her love him alone so neither will grieve when I follow
the path of the God that is mine alone
.

Zeb’s wishes would contradict Shay’s. Neither request might be granted.

Herne’s presence increased, overwhelming the Mother’s soft touch, and the sense of her faded away completely. The thunder roled through Shay’s heart, then disappeared. He’d been refused.

Despair filed him, and his mournful howl echoed back from the cliffs.

With a low whine, Zeb nudged his shoulder.

No point in remaining. Shay led the way back down the No point in remaining. Shay led the way back down the mountain. Each mile seemed longer than the last, and they had hours yet to go.

Dawn broke over the white peaks. Exhausted to his bones, Shay stumbled to a halt by a gurgling creek. The icy water soothed his raw throat.

Finished drinking, Zeb shifted and rose to his feet. “Sorry, brawd. Guess asking the Mother for help was a fucked-up notion.”

The pain in his voice puled Shay from his dark thoughts.

He looked up. The light of the morning sun shone on Zeb’s strained face.

Shay backed away and shook, as if the action could get his mind—or his eyes—to work. A trick of the light? He trawsfurred. “Zeb.”

“What?”

It had worked. The Gods had answered his request. Zeb was free. Misery squeezed his heart, and his throat tightened until his voice came out hoarse. “Your mark—the antlers are gone.”

Expression blank with shock, Zeb touched his own cheek.

“Herne’s mark?”

Shay could feel the holow place where their bond had been.

“Why the fuck…?” Zeb’s face darkened. “You asked for that. That our brother bond be dissolved. That you be left that. That our brother bond be dissolved. That you be left alone.”

“Aye. Breanne needs you,” Shay whispered. “I’m sorry, a bra—


Fuck
you.”

The fist cracked into his face, knocking him on his ass. He wiggled his jaw—the throbbing pain couldn’t compete with the one inside. “Dammit, I—”

“Fucking shut up.”

Shay braced himself for another punch.

As Zeb glared down, the fury in his black eyes drained away. And then he laughed. “Feel your cheek,
brawd
.” Shay touched his face with chiled fingers. He traced the slightly raised cahir scar and beneath it…nothing. “Herne’s mark is gone.”

The bond that he’d lost wasn’t the brother one—that tie remained, a golden rope between him and Zeb. Instead, there was a lightness where the weight of the God of the Hunt had rested within him. Shay studied his oversized hands. “He left me a cahir.”

Zeb’s grin was a white flash in his dark face. “Guess he’l let us fight for him. But we can form another bond. A lifemate.”

“I—” Shay’s throat closed. The future spread out in front of him, almost appalingly open, as if he’d veered from a narrow mountain valey onto a plain. He could see from narrow mountain valey onto a plain. He could see from horizon to horizon; his feet could take him anywhere he wanted.

“Wel, now we know why the Mother refused. They had other ideas. Wonder if they fought about it.” Zeb’s eyes glinted with amusement.

Shay sank to his knees, despite the freezing ground. “I need a minute.” How many years had his vow dictated his life? How could he get his mind around this?

Zeb squeezed his shoulder. “Shift back, brawd, before you freeze. While you think, I’l hunt us some breakfast.” He shifted and sniffed the air, before loping into the forest.

Shay stared after him. Eventualy, growing aware of the chil under his bare knees, he trawsfurred to wolf. As the clouds drifted across the pale blue sky, he watched the increasing glow of the sun in the east.

Chapter Thirty-one

Since they’d found no prey on the last run, Gerhard had caled for an extra pack hunt. Unabl to think of a good excuse, Bree had gone this time. For a while, she’d run beside Jody and Bonnie, then joined Angie. Although Thyra had bit her once for being “
too clumsy
”, she hadn’t had a had bit her once for being “
too clumsy
”, she hadn’t had a bad evening, aside from missing Zeb and Shay like someone had removed a body part…maybe her heart.

Bree slowed, letting the wolves run past her.

Yesterday morning, she’d been relieved they’d left her alone to think and stew. And cry. Yeah, she’d done quite a bit of that. She’d written out reasons why she should or shouldn’t join them. The answer had been an overwhelming no. Al her life, she’d looked for a home, and here in Cold Creek, she’d found her place.

Like a flowing stream, the pack ran across a meadow, and moonlight dappled their fur as if glinting off water. But there was no huge silver-gray wolf with a dark deadly brother beside him. As despair stabbed into Bree, her legs tangled, and suddenly she was on hands and knees in human form.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she pushed to her feet, shivering in the cold wind.

Zeb and Shay hadn’t returned last night. Hadn’t returned today. What if they’d been hurt in that terrible storm last night? Caught in a flood? Guilt was a knife slash to her bely as she remembered how miserable they’d looked yesterday morning. As if they already knew her answer. She’d made them so unhappy.

Like I’m a happy camper
? She stared up at the moon, and the glow seemed to iluminate her heart. Honestly, even if she gave up Cold Creek and her friends, could she be unhappier than she was now? Al the self-preservation in the world didn’t help when everything inside her wanted to be with her men.

But they’d probably die—horribly. Her throat tightened.

Every month, she’d risk them, knowing she’d end up mourning them, as she mourned Ashley now.

But… The wind whipped through her hair as she gave a rueful laugh.
Would I really want to give up a moment of
the time I had with Ash
? Even if she’d known how Ash would die, would she have backed away?

No. Everyone died. Her men might suffer an ugly death sooner than others, but they were doing something important.

Saving lives.

But this is my home. Here
. But was it? If Angie and Vicki and Calum and her other friends weren’t here, would Cold Creek feel like home? No. When Shay and Zeb left, would she realy have a home here? Was this what Ashley had tried to make her see?
Home isn’t a place; it’s people
.

And she darn wel knew who her people were. She scrubbed her hands over her face, wiping away her tears.

Guess she’d be dragging her suitcase back out of her closet.

And she’d need to tel Calum to hold off on arranging for people to pack up her apartment. No need to move everything twice.

Leaving Cold Creek wouldn’t be easy. She swalowed hard, thinking of her friends. Her arrangement with the diner.

hard, thinking of her friends. Her arrangement with the diner.

She’d be homesick.
Must remember to stock up on
chocolate chips
. But this time when she moved, she’d take her home—her family—with her. Now if they’d only get their butts back so she could tel them.

Smiling, Bree trawsfurred back to wolf. The moon lit the entire sky as she loped across the mountain meadow. The soft new grass released a fragrance that made her paws dance, and she spun in a circle, chasing her tail. Then with a yip, she caught up to the pack.

* * *

An hour out from Cold Creek, Shay raised his weary head and sniffed. Wolves. Smeled like the entire pack. Zeb’s upright ears showed he’d caught the scent as wel.

Would Breanne be with them? Probably. She’d missed the run the other night. A surge of sheer need washed through him. By the God, he needed to see her. To hold her and tel her what had happened.

As he and Zeb emerged from the trees into a long mountain meadow, yeling drowned out any other sounds.

The scents were ugly. Aggression and fear. By the God, now what? He was too tired for games; al he wanted to do was hold Breanne.

As they reached the pack, he saw Gerhard yeling at a As they reached the pack, he saw Gerhard yeling at a young male. Nothing new.

Jody spotted them and walked over. “Hey. Bree just said you’re al leaving soon. Do you know who’l take over the lodge?

Can

you

give

our

cleaning

service

a

recommendation?”

Breanne said what? Shay shifted, Zeb a second behind, so they rose and stood, shoulder-to-shoulder.

“We’re
all
leaving?” Zeb repeated in a raw voice. “Bree, too?”

“That’s what she said.” Jody’s mouth puled down. “I’m going to miss her—and those fattening cherry pies.” Exhilaration bubbled through Shay’s veins. Over everything else, she’d chosen them. “Wel.” His voice wasn’t steady.

Zeb’s gaze met Shay’s. “Wel.” His voice wasn’t al that even, either.

“No!” Breanne’s voice—the furious one she’d used when Zeb had used her fancy filet knife to whittle wood. Shay grinned and looked to see who’d earned her wrath.

His smile died.
Gerhard
. The alpha had changed to wolf and was stalking the younger male. He struck and the pup yelped. Growling, Dieter circled, ready to join in.

Breanne marched closer to the alpha. “Stop it. He’s just a kid!” Dieter blocked her path. Dammit, didn’t she ever learn?

Yet Shay’s heart quickened at her courage.

Yet Shay’s heart quickened at her courage.

Two other females folowed her, then some males. A murmur swept around the meadow like a whisper of wind.

More shifters stepped forward.

Gerhard didn’t notice, too intent on savaging the cub.

Notice
this,
alpha-hole
. Shay belowed, “What’s going on here?”

People jumped, and the fight broke apart.

As Gerhard trawsfurred, Breanne and Angie ran past him to care for the young wolf.

“Stay out of this, cahir,” Gerhard snapped. “That clumsy fool lost us the kil tonight.”

“Then teach him. Don’t punish him.” The careless savagery sent anger searing through his veins. He tried to tel himself that the alpha had the right to decide discipline—even if wrong. But the idiot was constantly wrong. His decisions weren’t made for the good of his wolves, but because he enjoyed the power.

Shay frowned. An alpha’s over-riding instinct was to protect, but Gerhard didn’t. Klaus must have been dominant enough to influence his littermate, and his sick desires apparently lingered. Gerhard might have been a good alpha once, but he was no longer fit to lead a pack.

BOOK: Winter of the Wolf
4.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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