Chapter 1 #2
She stumbles back, her foot catching on a slick rock. I watch in horror as she falls, arms windmilling, her bag flying open as she hits the water with a splash that echoes through the ravine.
Something inside me snaps and I rush down to check on the woman, my wolf no longer under my careful control. The creature inside me has made a decision, and that decision is simple.
Protect her.
She's pushing herself up from the water, soaked and shaking, her hands wrapped around her ankle. Her face is contorted in pain when she turns to stare first at me, then at the rogue on the rock above.
For a heartbeat, I see myself through her eyes. Another massive wolf, appearing from nowhere, cutting off her escape. She should be terrified. She should be screaming.
Instead, those green eyes sharpen with focus, taking in every detail of my appearance. Studying me. Comparing me to the darker wolf still perched above us.
The large wolf on the rock growls again, more aggressive this time. He's seen me now, and he knows exactly what I am. Who I am.
Alpha.
I tear my gaze from the woman and focus on the threat. The rogue watches me with those eerie yellow eyes, his body tense, deciding whether to challenge or submit.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the woman push herself up. She stumbles out of the water and back to the shore where her bright orange messenger bag lies on its side, notebooks and sample bottles spilling out of it like entrails. She drops heavily beside it, still cradling her injured ankle.
Good. She's out of the water. Not drowning. That's something.
But she's still in danger, and I have a rogue wolf to deal with.
I set off in his direction, my muscles coiling with each step. The climb is steep, but my paws find purchase easily on the rocky surface. My wolf is in full Alpha mode now, and there's no hiding it. Every line of my body broadcasts dominance and authority.
The dark wolf is ready and waiting when I reach the top of the outcropping he's chosen as his vantage point. His yellow eyes lock with mine, and I see the calculation there. He's weighing his options, testing my resolve.
Most days, being the Alpha is a pain in my ass.
The endless paperwork, constant disputes, and the weight of responsibility for over a hundred wolves.
In moments like this, it pays off. I don't know how, but wolves sense each other's status in the pack.
Part of it may be body language and the confidence a position like mine brings.
The way I hold myself, the steadiness of my gaze, the absolute certainty that this territory is mine.
But there's more to it than that. There's an energy to pack hierarchy, something that runs deeper than instinct. It's a silent message that's transmitted from one wolf to another, primal and undeniable. And he's receiving mine loud and clear.
For a moment I think he's about to challenge me. His muscles bunch, his lips curl back from his teeth. Blood pumps through my entire body, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. It's so loud, I wonder if even the woman down by the creek can hear it.
A fight between two wolves our size would be brutal. Violent. The woman would see everything, and even if she survived the encounter, she'd know exactly what we were. The secret my pack has kept for generations would be exposed.
I can't let that happen.
I square my shoulders and dig in my nails for traction. The rich scent of soil surrounds me, doing much to clear my head and cool my blood. Instead of charging in, I take a moment to think. Not only about myself, but about the pack. And the woman behind me.
A soft moan escapes her lips, pain-filled and frighteningly vulnerable.
The other wolf's ears twitch toward the sound. His gaze flickers from me to her, and I see something shift in his stance.
The coppery tang of blood wafts up into my nostrils, sharp and alarming. She's hurt.
The scent brings everything into sharp, crystalline focus. My priorities align with perfect clarity: Remove the threat. Care for her. In that order.
I stride forward, closing the distance between myself and the stranger.
His hackles rise, his ears flatten against his skull.
But I'm already tapping deep into the core of my Alpha power, letting it flow through me like a current.
I snarl, showing my teeth, declaring in no uncertain terms that I'm top dog in these parts.
The rogue holds my gaze for one more second, two, three. Then his eyes drop. His head lowers. His entire body language shifts from challenge to submission.
He gets the message.
The rogue blinks, bows his head lower, and turns to trot away, disappearing into the forest as silently as he appeared.
I send him off with a menacing growl for good measure, watching until I'm certain he's gone. Part of me wants to chase him, to make absolutely sure he leaves our territory. But I can't. Not with the woman injured and alone below.
Relief floods through me, though I'm careful not to show it.
Physical fights between wolves are always a gamble, no matter how dominant I am.
Any other day, I wouldn't mind a good brawl.
There's something primal and satisfying about testing my strength.
But these matches have a tendency to get out of control.
And that can get people hurt. Especially innocent bystanders of the more delicate human variety.
Speaking of which…
The rustling of leaves and the faintest hint of words muttered under her breath draws my attention back to her. She's trying to stand, using a nearby sapling for support, but her injured ankle won't hold her weight.
I rush down, drawn to her as if by some magical pull. My wolf is completely focused on her now, the threat neutralized, leaving only the overwhelming need to help. To protect.
I shake my head and sniff, half-expecting to catch the particular scent of magic that clings to the witches of Oak Hollow. But no. She's human through and through. Nothing supernatural about her except the effect she's having on my wolf.
Bright green eyes stare at me as I slowly approach. I expect fear, terror even. Any sane human would be halfway to Parkerville by now, injured ankle or not.
But there is no fear in them, only curiosity and maybe a touch of apprehension.
Scientific assessment. I feel those eyes roam over my wolf form, taking in every detail.
My size, my coloring, the way I move. She's cataloging me, I realize.
Comparing me to the other wolf. Trying to understand what she's seeing.
I stop a mere two feet away from her, close enough to help but far enough not to spook her.
I examine the woman from head to toe, my wolf's vision allowing me to see details a human would miss in the fading light.
She's soaked through, shivering slightly, her auburn hair plastered to her face and neck.
She's taken her right boot off, and I can see the swelling already starting around her ankle.
A small cut above the joint tells the story.
She caught it on a sharp piece of slate when she slipped in the creek.
The cut isn't deep, but it's bleeding steadily, and the ankle itself might be sprained or worse.
It would make it tough to hike back to Parkerville or wherever she'd come from. Impossible, really, in the dark on an injured ankle through five miles of rough terrain.
A protective instinct that far exceeds anything I've felt before rises up in my chest, fierce and undeniable. I have to take care of her. Bind the wound. Get something to relieve her pain. Get her somewhere safe and warm.
My mind races and then comes to a sudden stop.
I can't do any of this in my current form. And it isn't like I can shift in front of her.
The woman looks like she's going into shock, which would explain her lack of common sense.
Any other human would be horrified to have a wolf—any wolf, let alone one my size—walk up to them.
But not her. Little Miss Scientist is still staring at me with those bright, analytical eyes, looking like she's ready to write up a report about our strange encounter.
A small stream of blood trickles down her foot and hits the rich forest soil. The copper tang brings me sharply back to my senses, cutting through the strange fascination that's clouding my judgment.
She needs help and medical attention.
I stare at the woman, willing her to stay put, trying to communicate somehow that I'm not a threat, that I'm going to help. Her green eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I swear she understands. There's a connection there, brief but powerful, that makes my wolf whine low in his throat.
Then I force myself to turn away, to leave her there by the creek despite every instinct screaming at me to stay.
I race off through the darkening forest, already planning my route. I need to get back to where I stashed my clothes, shift, grab my four-wheeler from the nearby trail, and return before she tries to hobble her way back to civilization and hurts herself worse.
Or before that rogue decides to come back.
The thought makes me run faster, my paws eating up the distance. I'm cursing myself for not having stashed a bag of clothing this close to Parkerville, for not being more prepared.
But as I run, one thought rises above all the others, as clear and certain as the moon that's just beginning to rise over the trees.
I'm going to see her again. In my human form this time.
And then, I'm going to find out who she is and why she's wandered into my territory.
Why she's already burrowed under my skin like she belongs there.