Pride's Run (12 page)

Just then a thick cloud moves in front of the
early morning sun. As it darkens the forest, as well as my mood,
Logan turns from me and makes his way to the water to wash up.

I want to thank him—for saving me from the
bear, for the warm clothes, and for sheltering me last night—but I
can’t seem to push the words past my lips. With his back to me, he
cleans himself up and I use that opportunity to shift and pull on
the warm clothes at my feet.

“They’re hunting wolves so I think it might
be in our best interest to keep our human forms.” He angles his
head to look at me and the instant our eyes meet and lock I realize
everything between us has changed. From here on out, whether I like
it or not, we’re in this game of survival together.

An uneasy truce has been made.

Unnerved by that thought, I narrow my eyes
and ask, “Who are you?”

L
ogan stands and
stares at me. “I thought you didn’t want to know anything about
me.”

I roll one shoulder and try for casual. “If
we’re going to run together I guess I should probably know a few
things about you.” I stop to pull a few twigs from my hair before I
add, “You know, so we’re able to read one another if we land in
trouble.”

It’s a half-truth, because when it comes
right down to it, if I’m going to run with this powerful alpha, I
need to know everything about him. It’s the only way I’ll be able
to determine what I’m up against.

Is he a wolf who would turn on me first
chance?

Then again, is there any other kind?

While he’s shown kindness by keeping me
sheltered last night and by helping me fend off that vicious bear,
the truth is, from the world we both come from, wolves only show
kindness to others when something is wanted or needed.

Does Logan need something from me?

I push to my feet and leave my boots where
Logan dropped them. I walk barefoot to the river and note the fine
shiver trickling along my spine, warning me to be careful where
this boy is concerned.

Going down on one knee I bend forward, cup my
hands and take a good long drink, until my thirst is sated. Then I
splash my face with the frigid water and rub the dirt and debris
off my skin until my flesh is practically raw.

When I come up and wipe my mouth with the
back of my hand, I find Logan watching me. He has that unreadable
look on his face again, an expressionless mask that hides a
lifetime of dark secrets.

“What do you want to know?” he asks, his blue
eyes flickering over me.

I don’t falter under his piercing gaze. In
fact, I hold my ground, let my glance pan over our clothes, then
focus back on him.

“I guess the first thing I want to know is
where you got these.”

“Hikers.”

“These hikers, where are they now?” I ask
cautiously, the implication clear in my tone.

As understanding flares in his eyes, he
smirks. “So you think I’m a cold-blooded killer, then?”

“It’s good to know who I’m running with.”

He dips his head and he arches a questioning
brow as his eyes move over my face. “Don’t you think if I was going
to kill you I would have done it by now?”

“Not necessarily.”

Logan might have spared me while I slept but
I don’t believe that means I’m safe, or that in a few short days
under the pull of the full moon he won’t try to tear my head clear
off my neck.

“Well if you must know, Pride,” he says in a
very matter-of-fact kind of way. “I had to do what I had to do so I
stole the backpack while the group of hikers were sleeping.” He
rolls one broad shoulder. “They had enough supplies that they won’t
miss a few things.”

I eye him skeptically. “So why’d you do it?
Why’d you put yourself in danger by sneaking into a camp where
there were so many hikers?”

“Like I said, I had to do what I had to
do.”

“Why not catch one backpacker alone on the
trail?”

“There was no time,” he says, and I can tell
he’s losing patience with me.

Regardless, I plant one hand on my hip and
glare at him.

Exhaling slowly, he pushes his hair off his
forehead. “You’re really not going to let this go are you?”

“No.”

“Fine. It’s as simple as this, Pride. You
needed clothes, so I got them for you.”

“It could have waited,” I challenge.

“No. It couldn’t have,” he shoots back, then
pauses long enough to slide a glance over me. “Because you’re
completely uncomfortable in your bare skin.”

I blow an exasperated breath. “Unlike you,” I
rush out, unsure if I’m more rattled by his perceptions, or the
fact that he treats me like a girl, not a wolf.

His grin turns coy. “That’s right, Pride. I’m
not at all uncomfortable with your bare skin.”

My head jerks up. “That’s not what I-”

Logan’s bark of laughter cuts me off and I
don’t miss the way he skillfully redirects the conversation—putting
an abrupt end to my probing—by saying, “Come on. I spotted a herd
of deer not too far from here.” He gives me a wink and jibes
teasingly, “And while I appreciate you leaving our cozy shelter
early this morning to go hunting, you know, so you could bring me
back a big, juicy bear steak, I think perhaps we should stick to
smaller game.”

I ignore the crack and shove my feet into the
warm boots, which prove to be two sizes too big, but I’m not about
to complain. I have a million other questions I want to ask, but as
I tie my laces I can sense his reluctance. I don’t need to read his
thoughts to know he’s being cautious with me, which confirms my
theory that he is holding secrets. I suspect if I want answers I’m
going to have to switch tactics and find another way to draw him
out.

“What else do you have in there?” I ask.

He shoulders the huge backpack like the
weight inside is insignificant, and in one fluid motion jumps onto
the icy cliff. “A few staples.”

Heading north we track back up the mountain
in silence but as I follow from behind I keep an eye out for
possible threats. I really don’t want to come upon another
unsuspecting bear, a mother who is simply protecting her cub.

When we reach the top of the summit Logan
presses his finger to his lips and gestures with a nod. I follow
his glance and my wolf stirs as the intoxicating scent of wild deer
curls around me. It teases my hunger and there isn’t a thing I can
do to stop my stomach from rumbling.

Logan angles his head and lowers his voice
low. “Do you want to get a fire going while I hunt or do you want
to join me?”

I take a minute to entertain the idea. I’ve
never hunted deer before and since I don’t want to risk making a
mistake and showcasing my flaws I lower my voice to match his and
say, “I’ll light a fire.”

I turn to move but he grabs my elbow to stop
me. He pulls me close and his scent practically overwhelms me when
he puts his mouth close to my ear and says, “You’re going to be
here when I get back.” I realize it isn’t a question. It’s a
command.

Packaged in his arms, we exchange a look and
when I stop to take his situation into consideration I realize he
trusts me about as much as I trust him. Good. At least we both know
where we stand.

I jerk my elbow from his hold and repeat, “I
said I’ll light a fire, so I’ll light a fire.”

His mouth tightens as he sizes me up for one
more moment, then, astute wolf that he is, he says, “I guess you
have a lot to learn out here. Once our stomachs are full, I’ll
teach you how to hunt wild game.”

I snarl at him, wondering how this wolf can
read me so well. Why am I so transparent to him? As I listen to the
smooth, easy flow of his blood, I also wonder how a wolf who’s also
been confined knows so much more about the wild than I do.

Logan begins to shed his clothes and I look
for a distraction. I shuffle along the ground and haphazardly kick
dry leaves and tufts of moss out of my way. When I reach a
clearing, a spot where the trees have thinned enough for me to
light a fire, I gather twigs and branches and wait for Logan to
finish morphing. Once he’s transformed, I hurry back, gather his
clothes, and take them to the clearing with me.

After I scent the air and determine that
there is no danger lurking nearby, I make a rock circle, toss a few
dry leaves into the pit, and top them with small, spindly pieces of
timber. As I stare at my handiwork, I wonder if Logan has any
tricks for lighting the wood.

Deciding to see what supplies he swiped from
the hikers, I reach for the heavy backpack and pull it open. I
rustle around inside the front compartment and when I find a
plastic container filled with coffee crystals, I let loose a little
joyous yelp. I open the container and take a long whiff. It’s not
hazelnut but it still smells delicious.

“I see you found the coffee.”

I turn and as I watch Logan stalk toward me
his strength and ability don’t go unnoticed. Trying not to stare at
his nakedness, I look past his shoulder and a few feet away I see a
small deer. As I look over his kill, I can’t help but admire his
skill as a hunter. The scent of blood reaches my nostril and I pull
it into my lungs.

My stomach growls and my nails extend, but I
don’t dare move. I know how things work in the wild and the last
thing I want to do is provoke his wolf. Even my mother let my
father eat first.

He cocks his head and asks, “Aren’t you going
to eat?”

“I thought the alpha went first?” I
return.

Frowning he responds, “We’re a new
generation, Pride. We don’t have to do things the way our parents
did.”

“I don’t think—”

“Why don’t we just eat together?”

I’m so ravenous that he doesn’t have to ask
me twice. Logan reaches into the backpack and pulls out a pack of
matches. As he lights the fire, I turn away and shed my clothes.
After I shift, we feast on the game and it’s odd how I feel such a
strange intimacy in the way we’re sharing a meal together, probably
because the alphas I know always eat alone and always go first.
Logan moans and digs in harder. Since I don’t know when our next
meal will be I follow suit. We continue to eat long and hard and
until our stomachs are bloated.

After we finish gorging Logan nudges me with
his muzzle and says,
“How about that coffee?”

I nod quickly and we both lope toward our
clothes. We change back to human and dress, then I purse my lips
and stare at the coffee grounds.

“How will we drink it?”

He gives me a look that suggests I’m dense,
and I don’t miss the mischief in his eyes. “You didn’t think I’d
steal coffee without cups to drink it in did you?”

“Of course not,” I say like such a suggestion
would be ludicrous and when he points to another section of the
bag, I reach in and pull out two small plastic cups. “That would be
stupid of you.”

His laugh curls around me and does the
weirdest things to my insides. Not wanting to get too comfortable
around this boy, I step back, putting a bit more distance between
us.

“I’ll get us some water.” He opens yet
another compartment and grabs a small pot.

“You really thought of everything haven’t
you?”

A crooked grin turns up the corner of his
mouth, and I realize just how gorgeous he is when he jibes, “I’m a
total bear without my caffeine.”

I shiver, remembering the incident at the
lake. “Then let’s get this pot brewing because I’ve no desire to
deal with another angry bear today.”

I watch him go and conclude that if I have to
run with an alpha, it might as well be one who is as fond of coffee
as I am. When he dashes out of sight, I stoke the fire and wonder
more about the boy who knows so much about survival.

A few minutes later he returns with the water
and I scoop a few crystals into each cup as he holds the pot over
the fire until it boils.

He fills our cups and keeping a safe distance
from one another, we both sit back, lost in our own thoughts as we
sip the brew. The taste instantly reminds me of Mica and my stomach
squeezes. I stare at the sky and renew the vow I made to myself a
few days ago, ever determined to get the elders out alive and crush
my master once and for all. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, I
only know it’s something I have to do. But right now, before I can
put a plan together, I have to figure out how to survive in these
woods.

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you follow me?”

Suspicion flickers in his eyes. “Follow
you?”

“Yeah, to the lake.”

“Oh,” he says and for a minute I wonder what
he thought I meant. “These woods are dangerous, Pride. Especially
for a wolf like you.”

I can’t help but feel a little insulted.
“What do you mean a wolf like me?” I challenge.

“It’s just…”

He pauses, like he’s having a hard time
pushing the next words past his lips, so as I grab a stick to poke
the fire I come to his rescue by saying, “You mean because I’m a
runt.”

His head jerks up and surprise moves over his
face. “What are you talking about?”

I wave my hand over my body. “You know, a
runt. A genetic defect.”

He grunts and a strange tormented look moves
over his face. “You’re anything but a genetic defect, Pride.”

I shrug and ignore him. “I know what I
am.”

“What I mean is you might be a great tracker,
but you’ve been locked up for what, seventeen years?”

When I nod, he says, “Out here in the wild,
you’re inexperienced.”

Since he opened the door, I decide to enter.
“So how do you know so much about the wild? Who taught you?” I ask,
carefully drawing him into conversation.

He takes a sip of his coffee before he
explains, “Basically hunting is instinctive, but pups learn tricks
and techniques from their parents.”

Interest piqued and feeling like I might be
getting somewhere with him, I lean forward. “So you weren’t always
confined then?”