Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Raven froze. Not swallowing, not breathing, not moving a millimeter. Terror stopped her heart in her chest.
The wolf’s teeth pricked the flesh over her jugular. His powerful jaws would pulverize her neck, her spine. Those jaws could crush the breath from her body.
He could kill her in a heartbeat, without even trying.
She considered stabbing him with her knife, but that would cause him to bite down on instinct. Either way, she was dead.
She was completely helpless. There was nothing she could do but remain still and count the eternal seconds in her mind, willing herself not to panic, to lock her terror somewhere deep inside.
Five seconds passed. Ten. Twenty. Forty-five. A full minute.
Finally, the wolf released her throat.
She gasped for breath. Still, she kept herself completely motionless. A single bead of blood dripped down the side of her neck.
The wolf stepped back and stared at her with his yellow eyes. He didn’t growl or yelp or bare his teeth. He simply watched her, his gaze shrewd and assessing.
What was she supposed to do now? He wanted something. Expected her to do something. But what?
Her mind raced, scrolling through her conversations and observations of her father, all the things he’d taught her about wolf biology and behavior.
It was a test.
This whole night was a test, from the circling to bumping into her to nipping her shoulder and leg. By seizing her throat—one of the most vulnerable parts of the body—he displayed his power and authority as alpha. He had demonstrated his ability to kill her if he wished.
Now she had to prove that she understood him.
Raven dropped the knife and rolled onto her back, exposing her belly in submission like she’d seen the lower hierarchy timber wolves do.
In this way, she was showing him she knew that she was weak and defenseless.
That she recognized he was the one with the power, not her.
This wasn’t an attack. It was a request for trust.
“I get it,” she whispered. “You’re in charge. I respect you as the leader above me.”
Again, he stood over her, leaned down, and took her throat in his jaws.
She lay there, every muscle taut. She stared glassy-eyed at the patches of star-spangled sky through the black branches. Her heart beat in her throat, pulsing against his jaws.
The wolf squeezed her neck harder. You know what I’m capable of, he seemed to say. He was purposefully choosing not to harm her, proving that she could trust him back.
“I understand,” she forced out. “I… I trust you.”
He let go of her neck and stepped back.
He watched as she pulled herself to a sitting position, breathing hard. She rubbed her throat. It was tender, slick with hot saliva. Apart from the shallow puncture, she was unharmed.
Relief and astonishment tangled in her stomach. He could’ve easily killed her, but he didn’t. A true alpha wasn’t the one who used unnecessary brute force. He was the one who chose not to.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you, Shadow.”
His ears flicked toward her, like he was listening. His tail wagged gently.
Shadow trotted away, then paused and glanced back over his shoulder. He took a few more steps, then glanced back at her again.
An invitation.
He wanted her to follow him.
She did.
Raven fumbled through the leaves, found her knife, and shoved it and the carving into her cargo pocket. She rose to her feet, not bothering to comb the leaves from her hair or brush the dirt from her pants.
A sharp, wild-edged thrill thrummed through every cell in her body. She followed Shadow through the trees and thick underbrush. He led her to the far-right side of the enclosure, where the wolf den, otherwise called the night house, was located.
She broke into the small clearing and halted.
The white she-wolf, Luna, lurked at the den entrance. Her hackles lifted, and her lips peeled back in a growl. Not fearful, but wary.
Luna was the distrustful one. That made her smart. People could whisper I love you and I miss you while they stabbed you in the back. Raven knew that better than most.
She lifted her hands, palms out in a gesture of surrender, and took a step back. Luna’s growl deepened.
Of course. A wolf wouldn’t understand a human gesture of surrender. Raven dropped to a hunched sitting position, making herself small and submissive. She kept her gaze on the ground. “I’m not a threat to you. I promise.”
Luna turned her growl on Shadow. He wagged his tail at her. She showed her teeth, reiterating her displeasure at Raven’s presence, who was an interloper who didn’t belong.
Shadow loped toward Luna and licked her muzzle, his ears pricked hopefully.
She snapped at him before sashaying out of reach.
Undaunted, Shadow approached and nuzzled Luna’s side. Her lips pulled back. She gave him a severe, disapproving look. She snapped at him again, her jaws closing an inch from his left ear. A punishment.
This time, Shadow backed off with a low whimper.
Luna turned and stalked into the den, her hackles raised. Growling, she abandoned Shadow and Raven to the cold.
“She’s mad at you,” Raven said. “I think she would have preferred to have me for dinner.”
Shadow’s tail drooped in disappointment. He knew rejection when he saw it. He looked like a dejected teenage boy who’d just been turned down for a date.
“You and me both,” she whispered. “I get it. I do.”
His ears pricked. He was listening.
“Thanks for not eating me, by the way.”
He stared at her, not moving.
What did he want from her now? He was waiting for something.
Using only careful, controlled movements, Raven slowly lowered herself into a sitting position on the ground. She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap.
The black wolf appeared satisfied. He circled her a few times, then flopped onto the ground. He stretched out not three feet from where she sat, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his large body.
Thick clouds drifted across the moon. The night grew darker, colder. Raven barely felt it. She listened to the steady rhythm of his panting breaths. She didn’t dare touch him, though she wanted to. She simply watched him, awestruck.
The whole insane night filled her with a marvelous incredulity, a reverence, along with a host of inexplicable emotions she couldn’t name, let alone describe.
This was what her dad must have felt all those years, so close to the wild creatures he loved. It was like she was connected to some hidden, unseen thing greater than herself, united in this moment with the vast, unknowable universe.
Like she’d touched a dazzling star with her bare hands.
She had not forgotten the danger the bikers posed. She had not forgotten that her father was dead, that her mother had abandoned her, or that the Hydra Virus might be proliferating inside her, hijacking her cells and turning her body against her.
This moment was something else. It was a gift. She was perceptive enough to recognize it for what it was. She felt the shift like tectonic plates beneath her feet, a sharpness in the air, a lightness in her chest.
In this small, perfect moment, the dying world seemed so very far away.
This was a separate place, a thing of wonder and enchantment, of impossible dreams and stars close enough to touch.
It was magic.