His Wolf (Wolf of My Heart) (3 page)

Clearly I didn't need to fear this guy. In fact, he'd probably set me free, but only if I could convince him I wouldn't bite. I ducked my head and
whimpered,
a pitiful sound even to my own ears. He couldn't have looked more shocked.

"You need help all right.  What kind of trap is this, anyway?" He closed the gap between us by another couple of inches, trying to examine the steel snare. When that didn't help, he got a stick and used it to sweep snow aside. "I'll bet that's the release."

I whimpered again and cowed some more, earnestly trying to encourage him.

"Maybe if I do this…" With his gaze glued to mine, he carefully slid one hand toward the trap. I held my breath, not daring to move since I was pretty sure he'd wig out if I did. By the time his hand reached the metal disk that would free me, he was so close I could smell his aftershave. He checked out the mechanism and then slammed it against the frozen ground with his fist; the cruel jaws sprang open; we jerked away from each other.

My injured leg throbbed, but I knew it was time to move on. When I put weight on that paw, however, I almost went down. It had to be broken to hurt that bad.
Just had to be.

Hearing the unmistakable
ching
-click
of a digital camera, I glanced in surprise at the guy who'd just freed me. He was on his feet, but squatting down several feet away, taking photos, one after the other. Why he wanted shots of a she-wolf in pain, I had no idea. I looked straight at him and deliberately whimpered yet again, my only way of saying,
A little more help, please?

He slowly lowered the camera, his expression incredulous. "
You
talkin
'
to me?" As far as Robert De Nero impressions went, this one sucked, and he clearly knew it. At any rate, he laughed at himself.

Dude, I can't walk.
I whined, putting my heart and soul into it this time.

His smile vanished.
"Oh my God.
You
are
talking to me."

I could almost see the wheels of conjecture beginning to turn inside his head. For at least a minute, he just stared at me. Then he lowered the camera. "I must be out of my ever
lovin
' mind."

Encouraged, I belly-crawled toward him, whining pitifully.

"Shit, shit, shit." He gulped audibly. "Mom, Dad, I love you guys.
Uncle
Greger
, sorry about the cabin.
I know you thought Pops was leaving it and the land to you. Marten,
Isak
, Bo…maybe we'll get along better in the afterlife." His gaze clashed with mine again. He stood. "Do not bite me."

As if I would. But he didn't know that, which made him the bravest guy I'd ever met. He also had the biggest heart. If I'd been Bronte-girl, I'd have melted in a puddle of goo at his feet.
A couple of years ago, anyway.
I was past that kind of foolishness now.

Strong arms suddenly scooped me up. I licked his hand as a thank you. In response, he snorted a laugh of disbelief and set off through the woods. I felt so bad for him. Werewolves tended to be larger than normal wolves, and though I was a female on the smallish side, I was still heavier than a Lab or German shepherd, either of which would've been bad enough. Our senses were keener, too. Having recently researched wolves online, I knew that some breeds of dogs could actually out track non-magical wolves. But if any dog were matched against one of us, the werewolf would win hands down.

"You're one lucky wolf, you know that?"
Huff.
Huff.

Yeah, though obviously fit, my savior was already winded. I knew his biceps were surely stinging and hoped he wasn't going to go far.

"I've never walked this stretch of woods before. Don't know why I did today."
Huff.
Huff.
He suddenly
laughed,
a dry sound. "Erik Thorne, what the hell are you doing? Sure, you always wanted to be a naturalist, but really?" He hefted me up a little. "You play guitar and sing, period. What are you going to do with this wolf when you get her to the cabin?"

Oddly enough, his monologue soothed me. Maybe I'd learn something about him, I thought, resting my snout on his biceps.

Erik snorted again. "Gilda's never
gonna
believe this."
Huff.
Huff.

Gilda?
Who's Gilda?
Girlfriend?
Wife?
The thought of him being spoken for disconcerted me for some reason. As far as looks went, Erik seemed a little young to be married, but I'd never been a good judge of things like that. He could be any age from seventeen to twenty-five. All I knew for sure is that he was Bronte-girl's type, physically speaking.
Gilda, huh?
Did she live with him? How would she feel about her guy bringing home an injured animal?

"Wonder if I should call a game warden or something."
Huff.
Huff.

Oh no. Not that.
Never that.

"Do they put down wild animals with broken bones?"

Put down?
As in…
Gulp.
Murder?
I squirmed to jump free and attempt a run for it.

Erik somehow tightened his hold on me.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa.
No one's putting you to sleep, okay?" The guy suddenly braked. He glanced down, thoroughly breathless now and a little weirded out from the look of him. "Can you understand what I'm saying?"
Huff.
Huff.

Oh how I wanted to nod. But I'd just sworn to protect the secrets of the preternatural world, which put any kind of answer in the category of a very risky move. So I did nothing.

He chuckled with honest humor as he once again got a better grip on me. "Wow. I'm not only talking to a wolf, I'm waiting for a
freakin
' answer. Clearly living alone is taking its toll."

So Gilda didn't share a roof with him. Good. I might have a chance after all.

Have a chance?
Oh. My.
God.
And he thought
he'd
lost it.

Erik abruptly stumbled and went down on one knee, almost dropping his heavy load. He eased me to the snow and then sat nearby, undoubtedly to catch his breath while he freed his boot from the ice-coated vine that had snagged it. I wished I could offer encouragement or thank him. Since I couldn't, I did the only thing I could do--rest my chin on his leg.

The wonder on his face touched me deeply. For several minutes we just sat there, a guy and his wolf. Then Erik stood and picked me up again.
"Almost there, girlfriend."

Girlfriend?
Now we're talking!

He hadn't lied. In another fifteen minutes we topped a rise, giving me the first glimpse of his home. It was a cabin straight from the movies, with a front porch, rock chimney, and mortar between the logs. I fell in love with it on sight. Erik quickly covered the distance to his house and climbed the three steps to his front door. He bent his knees slightly so he could reach the knob and turn it, walked inside, and carefully deposited me on a braided rug in front of a fireplace emanating delicious warmth.

Whew.

"Whew! No offense, but you're one heavy load."

Just what a weight-conscious girl wanted to hear, right? Refusing to be insulted, I rested my chin on my uninjured leg and waited. What was he going to do now?

"Gilda, you aren't going to believe this."

Huh?
I raised my head, scanning the room for her before I realized Erik had walked over to a glass fishbowl with water, natural pebbles, and a plastic plant in it. He opened a small container and took a pinch of something out of it. Sprinkling what must've been fish food over the water, he said, "We've got ourselves a wolf."

The goldfish inside swam from side-to-side, splashing like crazy and clearly responding to him. Well, who could blame her? I was halfway in love with the guy, too, and we'd known each other what…? Two hours?
Three?
I guessed why, of course. Unlike the black-hearted man who'd enslaved me for over a year, Erik's heart matched his fish's scales: pure gold.

He turned to face me. "Guess I'd better check that leg."

Though I wasn't looking forward to that, I knew he had to. So I lay very still when he dropped to his knees beside me and tentatively reached for my paw. After examining it for a couple of seconds, he stood and walked to the kitchen side of the area, which was a combination living room-kitchen-dining room. The fridge and stove, both white, looked pretty old. The sink, also white, wasn't divided. I noticed there were clean dishes stacked in a plastic drainer to the left of it. Above them was one of several cabinets. Erik opened it and took out a first aid kit. Then he dampened part of a kitchen towel. He soon used the wet end to clean my wound and the other end to dry it, all with gentle moves that hurt like heck anyway.

"Honestly, I don't think it's broken.  There's no bone sticking through, anyway.  But I'm no vet. Can you move it?"

I so wanted to try, but I let him do all the manipulation, instead, a tender try in all directions. He was right. It clearly wasn't broken, just bruised up like the rest of me. Yeah, I was definitely feeling the aftereffects of my wild tumble down the mountain. Erik cleaned the injured flesh with antiseptic that burned like crazy, apologizing all the while. He next applied some antibiotic ointment and then wrapped it in gauze, securing that with
a neon
green Band-Aid of all things.

"Hungry?
Thirsty?"

Both.
Got a cola?
Peanut butter?

He sat on his heels. "What do wolves eat, I wonder? I've got some raw hamburger…"

Ew
.

"But that's for my supper.
How about a hotdog?"

Anything that's not raw, and would you get a move on?
Starving she-wolf here.

Erik filled a bowl with water that I gratefully lapped while he rummaged in his fridge for the hotdogs. I ate four, and though I'd have preferred grill marks on them, they were absolutely delish. When I swallowed the last bite, Erik washed his hands and just looked at me for a few seconds.

"I need to get some more shots of this snow while I've got the morning sun. The tourists eat up cards with winter scenes on them."

Cards?
What kind of cards?
I must've tilted my head as confused animals will.

At any rate, Erik walked over and petted me. "You have to be somebody's lost pet. A mixed breed, I'll bet, with a smidgen of wolf in you."

Excuse me? Did you really say mixed breed?
I was a purebred from cold nose to fluffy silver tail.

Erik glanced around as if looking for something before realizing his camera was still suspended from its strap around his neck. With a wry laugh and a shake of his head, he started toward the door only to pause and check his watch. "It's almost noon. I'll be back at dark-thirty." A moment later, he left, shutting the door behind him.

Finally.
Though I'd experienced an incredible sense of freedom every time I'd shifted so far, I was now way past tired of being lupine. So I gratefully focused on the trapped girl
inside. Once again that white hot energy pulsed through my veins. I began to morph, more conscious than ever of the miracle that was me.