His Wolf (Wolf of My Heart) (2 page)

My truck fishtailed on some black ice. I shrieked. The right front wheel dropped off the road with the left one after it. Though I stomped the brakes, it did no good. The nose of the truck
dove
straight down the ravine, setting off a hood-over-tailgate tumble that leveled trees and took out boulders.
God, what a racket.
Crack!
Boom!
Crunch!
Face up; face down. Each landing jarred me to the bone. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I pressed my hands to the ceiling and braced for final impact.

Dad, I love you. Mom, see you soon.

The truck suddenly shuddered to a stop. In the deafening silence that followed, I had just enough wits to kill the struggling engine before everything went black.

****

Bronte, wake up.

"
Ow
.
Ow
.
Ow
."

I dragged my eyes open and saw nothing that made sense. It took a sec to remember everything, but I did.

"I'm alive."

That had to be a miracle. Realizing that something was digging into the front of my neck, just one of a dozen aches and pains coming to life with a vengeance, I checked it out. The seatbelt--cutting into my body everywhere it touched. I fumbled for the lock and released it only to drop face-first onto…what? I felt around.
The ceiling.
The truck had landed upside down. No wonder the seatbelt was killing me.

I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Why was it so
freakin
' dark? A glance at my watch gave me the answer: 8:00 p.m. I'd been out for a couple of hours.
Another why.
I hadn't hit my head. I couldn't have. The seatbelt had clearly done what it was supposed to do. I mean, I was still breathing, wasn't I?
Had I fainted or something?
That would be a first.

I fumbled for the glove box, hoping Yarbrough kept a flashlight in there. He didn't. I next felt around the cab of the truck, which seemed oddly tiny to me. I belatedly realized that it had been squashed flat, which meant I might've hit my head after all. Suddenly I needed fresh air and wiggle room. I slid my fingers over what used to be windows. All of them were shattered but still intact thanks to their safety coating. I repositioned my body, held onto the steering wheel, and kicked out the one on the driver's side.

A rush of frigid air took my breath as I crawled outside. Carefully standing on my wobbly legs, I let my gaze rake my surroundings.
A woods
. I heard the trickle of water to my left.
A stream, maybe?
Something feather soft brushed my cheek. I flinched and then stuck out my tongue. A snowflake touched it a second later.

"If I don't get help, I'll freeze to death."

Though I knew I could always climb back into the truck, which might protect me from the elements, my claustrophobia wouldn't let me. If I was going to die frozen, I'd rather do it outdoors. Should I shift? With eyes better adjusted to the lack of light, I made out the density of the trees all around me. As a she-wolf, I'd be able to see better and maybe find cover, but if I took that form I'd be stuck in it for hours. That was the trouble with non-full-moon shifts. Besides, I'd only transformed four times since I'd been bitten and didn't know all the ins and outs of lupine life. Too bad the full moon wouldn't rise until Wednesday, 2:48 a.m., three days away. Yeah, I kept up with moon phases now. Like my period, they were a monthly event I planned around.

Shivering, I made a snap decision to get my borrowed backpack from the truck and start walking. Just locating the dang thing took forever. Nothing was where I expected it to
be. Then I had to crawfish backwards through the window to get back out, dragging it with me. Stuffed to the zipper, it weighed a ton, and I dreaded carrying it. I stood and slowly turned, trying to engage my normal sense of direction. But the crash had done a job on me. I'd never felt so disoriented.

"
Eenie
,
meenie
,
miney
, mo…"

I slipped my arms into the straps of the bag and took off through the trees, carefully making my way across ankle-deep snow that hid fallen limbs and tangled undergrowth. In no time, my teeth chattered so hard they hurt and my fingers and nose went numb. Then my toes began to sting. I stumbled to a halt, knowing it was time to make a difficult decision. Inexperienced or not, I had to shift. Bronte-wolf would have a lot better chance of surviving in the wild than Bronte-girl. I looked around for a place to stash the backpack, finally spotting a bush a couple of yards ahead. I figured I'd stuff the thing under it. But when I got there, I found something even better.
A hollow log.
Hoping it wasn't already home to something with claws and sharp teeth, I took off my shoes, socks, hoodie, sweater, jeans, and
undies
.

Goosebumps danced over my nude body by the time I crammed my clothing into the bag and poked it inside the log. I stood straight, drawing in a deep, cold breath and closing my eyes as I deliberately blocked every external distraction and focused on the wolf inside me. I felt the change immediately--a warm tingle that
began at my heart and spread throughout my body. In seconds, white hot energy consumed me and altered my point of view.

The world looked different now and not just because I was lower to the ground. My night eyes saw in detail every snow-laden limb and bush. I realized there was a boulder ahead and to my right. Maybe I'd find cover there, and if I didn't it would, at least, block the wind. I sniffed the chilly air, trying to catch the scent of other animals--prey or predator. All I smelled was falling snow and pine. I was truly alone and, for the first time since the crash, deliciously warm. I'd done the right thing.

Time to locate shelter.

I started off at a trot, my full attention on that huge rock.

Snap!

Down I went with a howl of agony. My right front leg, now cruelly shackled, had been broken for sure. I tried to ease my paw free of whatever had it, but that was sheer torture. Focus. I had to focus. Bronte reasoning shoved she-wolf instinct aside. What the heck had just happened?

On my belly in the snow, I gingerly sniffed out the problem.
A trap.
A human-set coil spring trap
that a she-wolf would never get out of. I'd have to shift again to save myself.

My heart dropped straight into my churning gut.

I couldn't shift. Not for hours.

Why hadn't I stayed a girl? First instinct was always the best, and mine had been to remain human. What was I supposed to do now? The steel jaws of the trap seemed to cut deeper every time I moved. I wondered if I'd lose a paw that was really a hand. I worked on computers; I had to have my fingers.

Deep breath, Bronte.

I'd grown used to that little voice inside my head--a voice I first heard the night of my capture. I liked to think of it as the voice of reasoning since it had always calmed me down and did so now. I remembered traps were more humane than they used to be, thanks to strict laws. This one undoubtedly belonged to someone trying to catch a pesky coyote that had been raiding a chicken house. Whoever had set it probably meant well.

Or not.
Traps didn't discriminate. And the person who'd set this one obviously didn't care that he might snare a
fawn,
someone's lost pet, or even a human. I just
hoped
I got out of the thing before anyone returned to check it.

Trying to distract myself from the searing pain, I thought about Yarbrough's old truck. How could the driver of that passing car have been so stupid? He couldn't have done a better job of wrecking me if he'd planned it. And for that matter, why wasn't someone rappelling down the ravine to find and rescue me? Surely 911 had been called by now.

All at once, I could barely breathe. Had that collision been orchestrated? The Arm, American name for the
Were
gang, was an international organization with far reaching influence. Had one of Yarbrough's cohorts tracked me down with the intent to kill? Just the thought made me want to puke. But why would they? I wasn't anything special, and they surely didn't want that piece-of-crap truck I'd been driving. Who would?
Especially now that it was totaled.
As for the other stuff I'd stolen, even the money wasn't worth the
chances that had been taken to run me off the road. Things could so easily have gone south. That driver could be lying at the bottom of the ravine instead of me.

Though no scenario made sense, I still felt spooked. For that reason, my gaze flicked from tree to tree, bush to bush, rock to rock. Was someone out to get me? Well, there wouldn't be a better time or place.

I'd never been more helpless.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Two

I woke to the sound of someone singing. As I slowly reoriented to time and place--Sunday at the bottom of a ravine--I realized I was covered in a blanket of snow, which meant I'd actually fallen asleep at some point during the night.

Unbelievable.

Things looked lighter to me.
Encroaching dawn?
If so, I'd slept for hours. Or maybe my conking out was a result of the wreck, like a concussion or aftershock or something. I wondered briefly why I hadn't automatically shifted into a girl the moment it was physically possible even though I'd slept. I'd seen movies where werewolves transformed into humans when they died. It seemed logical that sleep would produce the same result. But here I was with fangs, four legs, and silver fur.

Had I imagined the singing? My wolf ears perked up, shifting the snow a little, but not enough to uncover me and reveal my hiding place. Someone was definitely giving the woods a sunrise concert with a Jason
Mraz
cover, "I Won't Give Up," and he wasn't half bad. In fact, he was dang good. He was also getting closer. Survival instinct kicked in. I actually began gnawing at my own paw in a frantic bid for freedom even though I was still fairly well hidden.

Could the sensible girl stuck inside the lupine body calm her panicky wolf? And what was with the whole
stuck
scenario? I could surely shift into my human form by now. But then the mystery vocalist would see a naked girl with her wrist caught in an animal trap. I'd never find the release on the steel jaws before he spotted me, assuming I could even open the thing, that is. This guy was practically on top of me.

"Oomph!"

Something heavy fell across the mound of snow that was my cover.
Yeah, the singer.
I growled. He yelled and scrambled away, not stopping until he was on his butt in the snow with his back plastered against an oak tree. That put him about ten feet from me. Both of us were in plain view now and staring each other down. I saw that he had short brown hair, a barely shaved chin, and gorgeous brown eyes. Judging from the long legs stretched out
before him, he was on the tall side. His navy pea coat reminded me of my dad, who had one just like it. A camera dangled from a wide strap around his neck.

"Holy
freakin
' crap!"
The guy panted, but not with fear. I'd have smelled it. No, he was more psyched than anything else. I guessed he'd never been face to face with a wolf before.

I growled again to make sure he stayed right where he was.

"Easy now.
Didn't mean to step on you."
His gaze narrowed.
"Uh-oh.
Is that a…" He crawled forward on all fours, careful not to get too close as he made out the shape of the trap under the snow. "Shit. You're caught. I'll bet it was that redneck Pickett. I told him this land was posted." He edged forward a few more inches, but still out of biting range. "You're bleeding. God, I hope nothing's broken." He shook his head. "What an asshole. I knew all those deer heads on his walls were a bad sign."