Chapter One
Lara Croft in Bunny Slippers
“What do you mean you’re not coming with us to breakfast?” Henry was saying. “I thought we agreed we’d all go together?”
Standing next to him, hands in his pockets, Cal nodded in agreement.
Bryon Sanders gave a gentle sigh, shooting the other animal rescuers an apologetic look. All four men stood just before the porch steps of the big house, three of them already having dressed up to head into town. He had on nothing but a pair of jeans and boots.
He pressed his lips together. “I was looking forward to that, too, but something came up.”
Henry frowned at him. “What could possibly...?”
“Work. There’s an animal in the woods. Heard it crying out not long ago. I think it’s a foal, and I think it might be injured. I want to check it out, make sure it’s safe, or bring it back to the clinic to get treated.”
He glanced across the property. In the distance, just beyond a low fence, were the tall trees that made up Paradise Woods, the treetops somewhat aglow in the morning sunlight. Even from where he stood, the woods appeared vast, stretching even farther than Green Sanctuary.
The sanctuary itself was a sight to behold.
In the nine years Bryon had worked here, that fact hadn’t changed.
For the most part, Green Sanctuary looked like a ranch, which came as no surprise, considering it used to be one.
A massive grassy field stretched around the property, bordered only by the same fence demarcating the sanctuary from the woods.
A couple of barns sat not far away from the big house, one of them having been converted into a veterinary clinic.
From the other barn, Bryon could hear the moos and brays of a few animals. To his left, the big house towered over the four men. It was an old house, one that occasionally creaked and groaned and could definitely use a few renovations.
It was also the only place he’d called home for the last nine years, ever since he’d taken off from Phoenix with all those men clamoring for his head.
With his inner wolf growling, Bryon discarded the memory, staring at the house a little longer. Just outside the building, a few feet away from the nearest truck, stood a sign with bold green letters:
GREEN SANCTUARY WILDLIFE RESCUE
A Safe Place for Every Wild Heart
“You sure it can’t wait?” Henry asked, rubbing his belly. He cleared his throat. “I mean, I’m sure it’s really nothing. Why don’t we come back to check it out after breakfast?”
“Because being an animal rescuer means showing utmost care for the well-being of endangered animals, Henry,” Theon Gardener said, and he and Cal shot the man a look.
Henry got an embarrassed expression on his face. “Right. Sorry, boss.”
Theon turned to face Bryon, his gray eyes boring into his. “You should go and check it out. It might be nothing, but there’s no harm in making sure.”
Bryon nodded. Of the four animal rescuers at Green Sanctuary, he and Theon were the closest. Bryon had shown up at the sanctuary only a year after Theon had founded it, and the man had been gracious enough to take him in.
They’d been friends ever since, and every day, Bryon was a little more grateful to Theon for everything he’d done.
These people were his friends. No, they were more than that. If this was his home, they were his family.
“Rescuing the foal is more important than breakfast,” Bryon said. “It’s what we do. It’s why we’re here.”
Cal stepped forward. “Do you need any of us to come with you, Bryon?”
Bryon shook his head. “No, I’ve got this. You guys should go ahead. I doubt this will take very long, anyway. Once I drop the foal off at the vet’s, I’ll join you at the diner.”
Before long, Theon, Cal, and Henry had climbed into the truck.
Bryon watched the vehicle until it was off the property, then shifted his gaze back to Paradise Woods.
His inner wolf’s ears perked up with excitement.
He didn’t think there was anything he loved as much as rescuing and caring for animals.
Over the years, he’d grown to love this job.
Hell, it had become less of a job and more of a way of life.
Dealing with animals was often so much easier than dealing with people, especially humans.
He jogged across the field until he reached the fence, vaulting over it and venturing into the woods.
It was somewhat darker there, though some sunlight streaked through the treetops, illuminating his way.
Tree roots and low-hanging branches stretched across his path, and as he ventured deeper, a rich, earthy smell filled his nostrils.
The woods were expansive, to say the least. The way Bryon saw it, it was easy to get lost in here if you didn’t know where you were going.
The place was a labyrinth of trees and roots.
Just how many times had he gotten stranded in these woods when he first started working here?
If he hadn’t shifted and used his wolf senses to navigate his way back to the sanctuary, he might’ve been wandering for days.
Speaking of shifting...
He was pretty sure he could find the foal just fine, but if he hoped to get back in time to join the others at the diner, he’d have to make this quick.
Out of habit, he scanned his surroundings first, in case anyone happened to be nearby.
The last thing he needed was a human spotting him mid-shift.
The last time that had happened, well, it hadn’t ended well for him.
Humans, for the most part, didn’t understand shifters or supernaturals in general.
What humans didn’t understand, they feared.
And what they feared, they tried to destroy.
The coast was clear, thank goodness. Bryon divested himself of his clothes, tucking them at the base of a nearby tree, then sucked in a breath and began to shift.
Fur sprouted from his skin, racing up his forearms, until even his face was covered in brown fur.
Claws emerged from his fingertips, and he fell forward onto all fours, the crackle of his bones filling his ears as they grew and took shape.
His mouth elongated into a snout, and he felt his teeth slowly being replaced by the wolf’s longer, sharper ones.
Immediately, his senses were heightened. His vision brightened, and a myriad of scents found their way into his nostrils: leaves, flowers, some dung, a few other animals, and... a foal.
He could practically see it in his mind’s eye, a lone creature struggling somewhere deeper in the woods. Had it ended up in some trap? The faint scent of blood reached his nose. It had been injured.
Without another moment’s hesitation, he took off, bounding through the woods until the trees became a blur in his vision.
More sights and smells rushed his senses, as creatures scampered across his path or out of the way, but he paid them no notice, zeroing in on the scent that mattered most. That foal was in danger, and right now, only he could save it.
He powered faster, darting between the trees. The foal’s scent grew stronger. Good. He was getting closer. But not close enough. The animal was still far away.
The wind rushed in his ears as he picked up speed, leaves and branches brushing against his fur. Up ahead, the earth sloped downward, a narrow dirt path leading into a clearing. A tangle of roots protruded at the clearing’s entrance, and Bryon immediately leaped over them.
He never saw the shard until it was too late.
In his defense, it was a small shard of glass, small enough for anyone to overlook. It wasn’t until he’d launched himself into the air that the gleam caught his eye. Then he hit the earth and pain lanced through his hind limb. With an agonized yelp, he fell.
***
“This is why I never go hiking,” Miranda grumbled.
Resisting the sudden urge to scream, she stared at the tree before her.
It was a short tree, shorter than the rest, its branches crooked almost comically.
Miranda knew that tree. She’d seen it at least four times already, which could only mean one thing: She’d been walking in circles for the past hour or two.
“I’m going to die in here,” she muttered, running her fingers through her hair.
“I’m going to starve to death at the ripe age of forty-two, and then I’ll decompose right here in these woods, and no one will ever find me.
They’ll think I fled town or got kidnapped, but I’ll have turned into one of these stupid trees. ”
At least she couldn’t hear Jerry’s voice. In fact, she hadn’t heard him in a while. Did that mean he’d given up the chase?
She doubted it. If she had to guess, he was still in these woods, searching for her. Jerry didn’t know when to give up. When she first met him, it had been one of his more admirable qualities, but she no longer held that sentiment.
Right now, her problems were bigger than just Jerry.
She was lost, and if she couldn’t find her bearings somehow, she just might end up spending the rest of her days surrounded by trees.
Miranda gulped. If she’d thought she was in trouble before, she was waist-deep in it now.
What were the odds that she wouldn’t get attacked by some predator lurking in these woods?
It wasn’t like she could call 911 either—she hadn’t thought to grab her phone when Jerry’s threats jerked her out of bed.
Maybe she could wait for help. Even as the thought occurred to her, she couldn’t help but scoff. If she did that, she’d be a sitting duck. It would only be a matter of time before Jerry or some creature found her. Yelling for help was out of the question as well.
She turned, pulling her bathrobe tighter around her as a silent panic diffused in her chest, and took a few deep breaths, trying to settle her nerves.
“You could stay put, Miranda,” she said to herself, “and maybe help will come, or maybe that won’t work. Maybe your best bet is to mark the trees like they do in the movies.”
With that, she picked up the nearest rock and hacked away at the tree in front of her until she’d peeled off a layer of its bark. She stepped back, examining her handiwork, and shook her head.
“Who am I kidding?” she said aloud, tossing the rock aside. “I’m an accountant in pajamas and bunny slippers, not freaking Lara Croft, for goodness sake. And it’s my fault I’m in this mess, anyway.”
Maybe if she hadn’t agreed to date Jerry in the first place, she wouldn’t be lost in these woods and wondering about her life expectancy.
And maybe, if she’d thought to get as far away from him as possible when she found out he was cheating and broke up with him, she’d be having breakfast or heading to work in some other town.
But no-o-o. In her most recent years, Miranda hadn’t always made the right choices, and the consequences were staring her in the face, except now wasn’t the time to bemoan her fate. She needed to take action.
With another glance at the tree, she headed forward, brushing branches out of her path as she moved through the trees.
The least she could do for herself right now was to keep moving.
It was less risky than standing still. Her survival instincts might be nothing to write home about, but they weren’t nonexistent.
She’d only cleared a couple of dozen feet when she heard the cry.
Immediately, her entire body went rigid, her eyes widening slowly. The sound had come from somewhere to her right, not far off. Could it be...?
No, she told herself.
The cry was too high pitched to have come from Jerry. If she had to guess, the voice belonged to a woman—or some kind of dog. A shiver raced through her body. Were there other people in these woods?
Hope clawed at her from within and, without hesitation, she changed her trajectory, shoving leaves and branches out of her way as she made a beeline for the source of the sound.
She stumbled over thorns, twigs snapping beneath her slippers.
Just up ahead was a small clearing. Most likely, the sound had come from there.
Relieved at the prospect of no longer being alone in these woods, she doubled her pace and burst into the clearing.
It took Miranda all of two seconds to realize she’d made a big mistake.
There was no one in sight—no human being, anyway. In the center of the woods, barely ten feet away, was a brown wolf larger than she was.
“Oh, my...” she breathed.
It lay on its side, its flank heaving, its jaws parted wide open.
One glimpse at those gleaming teeth and her heart rose into her throat, then she brought her gaze lower.
Around the wolf’s hind legs were shards of glass, and one of them was stuck in its paw.
Blood trickled from the wound onto the earth.
“Crap,” she muttered. “Crap, crap, crap.”
It occurred to her that she should probably leave the clearing as fast as her tired legs could carry her, but before she could get herself to turn around, the wolf lifted its head and its eyes met hers.
For a second, everything seemed to freeze, and Miranda felt her blood turn to ice.
She stared back at the creature, unable to move, unable even to blink.
This was it. This was exactly what she’d been worried about.
Injured or not, the wolf was still extremely dangerous, and she’d practically thrown herself in front of him.
I guess it was only a matter of time before something like this happened, she told herself.
She breathed a resigned sigh, bracing herself for the attack she knew was sure to come.
But the wolf didn’t attack. It didn’t even snarl at her. As she watched, three things happened in rapid succession.
The wolf slowly rose, standing on its three uninjured legs.
It closed its eyes.
And then it began to transform.
I’m dreaming, Miranda thought. I must’ve hit my head earlier, and this is all a dream. Or maybe I’m hallucinating. This can’t be real.
Except that it was. Somehow, she knew that much.
She stared, torn between shock and sheer terror, as the wolf’s fur seemed to melt into pale flesh, its paws turning into humanoid hands and feet.
The sound of bones cracking filled the clearing as the creature’s snout receded into its face.
Within seconds, the wolf was gone, and she blinked, stunned, at the new figure standing in the center of the clearing.
The man blinked back.