Authors: Janet MacDonald
“I’ll send Beth
in to help you get cleaned up and to check your wounds,” he said and then turned
to walk out. He felt the girl’s gaze on him, and he looked back, catching her
staring at him.
The smile he’d
fought to conceal slipped over his lips in spite of himself. Anya was not as
scared of him as he’d hoped,; nor did she seem to be as angry as she was
letting on either. The look in her eyes told him she was also attracted to him
as he was to her. A slight glimmer of hope filled Dante as he chained the door
and relocked it. Maybe, just maybe, he could have Anya.
Dante headed over
to his brother’s home. He was still smiling as he saw Beth walking up to the
house with two buckets of water. He rushed over to help her.
“Thanks, Dante,
they were starting to get heavy,” she said as she eyed him.
“Where is
Chris?” he asked. Beth shouldn’t have been lugging pails of water in her
pregnant condition, he thought.
“Oh, he and a few
of the others went down to the west side field to herd in some of the cattle.
They were getting into the corn again,” she told him as they walked the short
distance to the house.
“I see, and your
brother?” he asked.
“Talbot went out
this morning with the fishing boat. The mackerel are running, and we hope to
have a nice feed of them for supper.”
“Mmm, that
sounds good. Will you bring some over to Anya?”
“Of course. How
is she doing today?” she asked as she watched his face closely while he set the
pails inside.
“Not talking. She
ate the food I brought her, but I think she still needs help getting washed up,
and I need you to check her wounds.” He hated having to get Beth to do all of
that, but out of all the pack members, she was the most experience with caring
for the wounded.
Beth walked over
to her large wooden table where she grabbed a basket, which was covered in a
tea towel, and turned and passed it to him.
“Here, I made
these fresh this morning,” she said, and Dante peeked under the towel. The
basket was full of fresh rolls, and a bigger smile danced on his lips.
“Mmm, they smell
heavenly,” he said and kissed his sister-in-law on the cheek.
“Well, someone
has to make sure you eat,” she said with a lighthearted laugh.
Beth always made
sure Dante ate well, and also ensured his home was kept tidy when he let it go.
Guilt flowed over him as she stood there with her large round belly. The woman
really went above and beyond what she should for him.
“You know you
don’t have to do this, Beth.”
“Yeah, I know. And
as soon as you have a mate I won’t have to,” she said with a knowing grin.
Chapter Four
Anya let Beth
help her bathe after the woman had checked her wounds and redressed them. As
she helped her, Beth chatted away, not once asking anything about Dante’s
sister.
“I hope you don’t
mind the dress. It seems a bit big on you, but it’s all I had,” Beth said as
she helped Anya slip it on over her head.
“It’s fine,
thank you,” Anya murmured. The white summer dress fit her like a tent, and was
way too long.
“Well, it doesn’t
fit me anymore either.” She eyed the loose garment floating on Anya’s frame as
she patted her tummy.
“How far along
are you?” Anya asked the-more-than-obvious pregnant Beth.
“Seven months. We
think it might be twins,” she said with a large smile.
“Have you
decided on names?” Anya asked, not really wanting to be left alone and enjoying
having company she could talk to.
“Well, Gabriel
for a boy, Gisele for a girl. If they’re twins, then the other boy name will be
Mitchell, and the girl’s is Michele.” The woman beamed with pride.
“I like the
names.”
“Do you have any
children?”
“No. I have four
nephews and another one on the way, though.”
Over the next
two hours, they talked. Beth was a very nice woman, and from her, Anya learned
that the pack lived the old way of life. There was no running water,
electricity or phones. Everything was as it had been a hundred years ago. A
very archaic lifestyle, but one done to appease the Wolf Lord, Jared, whose
spirit they all believed still inhabited the island. Beth explained that Jared’s
spirit was supposed to be trapped there, forever searching for his soul mate,
Terra, who was abducted during a raid on the island centuries ago. The legend
went that both had died of broken hearts and never found rest in the afterlife.
His spirit trapped there, and hers on the mainland.
After Beth left,
Anya fell asleep. She needed to get rested up for tonight after the village
fell quiet, so she could again dig at the floorboards under the bed. Strange
dreams filled her sleeping mind of the Wolf Lord, the man named Dante and the
temple. She was on the altar, not as a sacrifice, but being made love to by
Dante. The feeling that he and the Wolf Lord were one and the same flowed over
her as he laid claim to her body and soul. It was a deliriously delicious
dream, and Anya really didn’t want to awaken from it.
The strange
feeling of being watched roused her from her slumber, and she stared into Dante’s
dark eyes. A slight gasp fled her lips at the nearness of his face to her own,
and her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. It was not from fear, but from a
primal excitement, and she forced herself to calm down before he sensed it. The
slight tingling feeling on her lips had her wondering if he’d kissed her as she
slept. The thought sent another fluttering in her chest, and he smiled again.
“I brought you
your supper,” he said softly, and again he pulled her up into a sitting
position so she would be able to eat. The near flurry of excitement at his
touch so soon after her dream had her heart pounding, and Anya tried to calm
herself once more.
“I hope you like
fish. One of my pack caught a feed of mackerel today, and Beth fried them up. There
are new potatoes and baby carrots with it and a glass of milk.” He set the tray
laden with food on her lap.
As she ate he
watched her, his eyes seemed to try to hold a hard glare, but every once in a
while they slipped and turned soft. Anya was unsure of the myriad of emotions
she felt. This man had done nothing to harm her, but yet his demand to know of
his sister was more than she could give him. As he again barraged her with
questions about Cora, Anya sat there silently, refusing to utter a word.
Her mind wandered,
her thoughts on how stupid she’d been to come there in the first place. Yet a
part of her was stirred by this alpha’s nearness. It bewildered her, and no
matter how much she tried, she caught herself looking at him. The dark skin,
eyes and hair were all classic traits of a Temple Island werewolf. Still, it
was the fire in his eyes that drew her to stare into them. Even as he ranted
and made demands that she tell him of Cora’s whereabouts, she couldn’t stop
from thinking he was a very handsome man. The dominating male alpha attitude
attracted her inner wolf as her dream attested to. And that left Anya
perplexed.
* * * *
While he was in
his bed, Dante’s mind wandered to the shed. The young woman within was a
stubborn one to be sure. When he’d entered earlier she’d been asleep and
seemingly having a pleasant dream. He’d thought he’d heard his name whispered
from her sweet lips as she’d slept, and he hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d
leaned in close, smelled the divine fragrance of her heady scent and had slowly
kissed her. Once she kissed him back, he was left breathless, even if it had
been done in her sleep. A kiss had never pulled on him as hers did. It was
spellbinding, and his lips had tingled from it.
He was almost
positive a deeper part of Anya wanted him, but he also knew the stubborn young
lady would never admit it to either herself or him. Beth had told him they had
talked for the better part of the afternoon, and that Anya seemed like a very
nice girl. Dante wasn’t sure how to have small talk with Anya, nor how to get
her to admit to the feelings she seemed to have. She still refused to talk to
him as it was. He doubted she would want to make chitchat with him either.
Dante was unsure
of why he had such an attraction for this interloper. It was there, strong and wild,
but he could not fathom why. If Memphis hadn’t shot her, he would have let her
go. Now a part of him was nearly grateful for the pup’s bad judgement in
shooting Anya. He tossed onto his side and attempted to figure out just what
was happening to him. Even his last mate had not drawn these feeling from him,
and that left him greatly bewildered.
The surreal
dream awoke him in the wee hours of the morning. Dante was covered in a fine
sheet of sweat, shaking all over as he remembered the fleeting images of his
nightmare. Anya was drowning, not as a wolf but as a human. He’d tried to save
her, but couldn’t no matter how hard he fought to bring her to the surface. He
shook the feeling of dread away as he tossed the covers off and then got up. It
was because of how his first mate had died, he assumed. He picked up her long
braid off the dresser and held it, caressing the long, black hair.
Mary had been on
the boat headed toward the mainland to visit her family when the storm had
struck. Five of his pack had perished in the gale. All had drowned, lost to the
cruelty of the bay when the boat had capsized. After his mate had died, Dante
was left with a void, one he’d not been able to fill. Now Anya was there, and
it seemed as if she were fated to be his. However, the nightmare had brought
back the terror of losing a mate, and that fear filled him again. What if he
lost Anya? What if he did have to return her for his sister? And what if he was
reading the signs from Anya wrong? What if she really didn’t want him?
Self-doubt crept
into him. It was not something he liked to feel. As alpha, he needed to be
sound, strong and without doubts. He set out, having decided he needed to wash
away those thoughts and clear his head. Dante made his way into the woods
before he stripped down and then shifted forms. It felt great to run, and as he
let his beast free, his head arched back and he let a mournful howl escape into
the early morning air.
Dante loped off
down the old cattle trail to the river and didn’t slow down as the swimming
hole came into sight. Memories of his younger years flowed through his mind.
When it was all a carefree existence and all he had to do was hunt, play and
make love to the pretty human females on the mainland. As his body crashed into
the crystal clear water, he let out a yelp of surprise. The water was ice cold
and the shock of it took him off guard. It’d been a long time since he’d come there
for a swim.
It didn’t take
long before his mind drifted back to Anya, though he would need to go there
again this morning and question her as to his sister’s whereabouts. He knew she
was lying, knew her pack had his sister. For the life of him, Dante could not
reason out why she just wouldn’t tell him. After all, he’d promised her freedom
if she did. That meant there had to be something or someone Anya tried to keep
secret. The next time he talked with her, he would have to ensure he was not
soft. He couldn’t afford to let her see that side of him.
He took his time
walking back to where his clothes were. Dante continued his thoughts on how to
get the truth from Anya. There had to be a way to do it, one that didn’t have
her hating him completely. The long call of the roosters echoed from the
village. He would have to bring Anya her breakfast. Again a smile slid over his
face. He couldn’t help the excitement building in him to be able to spend time
with her.
* * * *
Anya made good headway
digging into the floorboards. She figured within the next few nights she would
have a hole big enough for her to crawl out. That is if the feeling and
mobility were back in her lower half by then, she thought. After several hours
of scrapping away, she shifted back to human and used her hands to push the
torn up slivers of wood into the tiny hole that she’d managed to break all the
way through. The rich smell of the earth floor a few feet below drifted up to
her nose, and she felt elated at the prospect of escape.
Crawling out
from under the bed, she struggled to get back on it. The digging had nearly
wiped her out. Her attempt to get back onto the mattress was more than she could
manage, and she decided to get dressed as she leaned against the side of it. If
they asked her in the morning why she was on the floor she would lie and say
she fell out of bed. Tired, aching and feeling a little hopeful with her
progress tonight, she pulled the quilt down and then stretched out on the floor
and fell asleep.
The soft rattle
of the chain awoke her. Anya had only been asleep for a few hours as she still
felt extremely tired. She looked up at the door as it opened and Dante stepped
inside carrying a basket with a towel over it. His eyes looked as they always
did, burning and glaring at her. But in the instant he saw her on the floor it
changed. His look of concern was as plain as day.
“Anya, why in the
hell are you on the floor,” he exclaimed and rushed to put the basket down on
the table. He turned and reached down, sweeping her up into his arms, and fear
raced over her that he might see the small hole under the bed.
After picking
her up, he carefully laid her down on the straw-filled mattress, then recovered
the blanket and covered her.
“Did you hurt
yourself?” he asked. There was a subtle hint of worry in his tone, and although
she wanted nothing more than to smile at that, she glared at him instead. She
would hold her ground, refuse to speak or give him any idea of how he was
affecting her.
Dante sat beside
her and made to touch her hair. She slapped his hand away and gave him a more
caustic look.
“I just want to
make sure you didn’t hit your head,” he said. His hands moved her hair from her
face as he examined her. The soft caress of his fingers through her hair did
strange things to her, and she felt the heat of his body as he sat close to her
on the bed.
“Are you hurt
anywhere else?” he asked. Anya shook her head. “I brought you some fresh bread
with blueberry preserves.” He reached for the basket.
As he passed her
fresh bread slathered in dark blue preserves her tummy rumbled. She expended a
great deal of her energy at night, burning up the food she ate, making the
healing process go much slower.
“There’s a pot
of tea on the step. I’ll go get it,” he told her.
As she devoured
the delicious bread and jam, she watched him. A flutter raced over her as she
eyed his large burly frame. Anya had to admit it—the man was drop-dead
gorgeous. As he returned with the pot and two mugs, she tried to pay attention
only to her food. It was a lot harder than she thought it would be as he poured
them both a steaming cup.
He sat back down
beside her and passed one of the cups to her. She took a cautious sip of the
hot tea and looked up at Dante. Their gazes met and held for a moment. His eyes
were soft and gentle-looking, and she again had to fight the urge to smile. Silently,
he watched her as she ate her bread and drank her tea. As soon as she was done he
took the basket and pot and then left her alone again. It was strange, she
thought. Even though she’d not spoken a single word to that man since the first
night, she now missed his company after he left.
It wasn’t long
after Dante left that again she heard the chain being undone from the door. A
smiling, cheery-faced Beth opened it and used a large rock to leave it wide
open. The bright sun’s rays streamed in as did fresh air, and it felt
wonderful. The older woman walked over and moved the table closer to the bed.
“Do you know how
to knit?” she asked.
“Umm, no,” Anya
told her.
“Well, would you
like to learn? I have a ton of socks to knit and darn, and I really could use
an extra set of hands,” she explained still smiling.