Pride's Run (15 page)

He goes down on his haunches and looks at me
longer than is comfortable.
“You’re right, Pride. You’re not
like any wolf I know.”

The fur along my back quivers when I hear
something in his voice, something that sounds deep, dark and edgy.
He steps closer, until he’s standing beside me. His fur brushes
mine and I feel a quick flash of heat inside me.

As this alpha overwhelms my wolf, my thoughts
cloud over and I quickly try shaking the fog away. I’m small and
inexperienced and if I want to make it out here in this unforgiving
terrain, I have to have all my wits about me.

“
What did I do wrong?”

“
You didn’t account for the deer’s speed.
It’s easy to miscalculate on your first try. I bet you won’t do it
again.”

“
You’re right, I won’t.”

“
Just remember, you’re smart and you’re
fast.”
He gives me a hard nudge with his muzzle as if to make
sure I’m listening. “
A girl like you should never be
underestimated.”

Restless and edgy I play his words over in my
head and consider how he always refers to me as a girl instead of a
wolf. I give a quick flick of my tail as I turn and canter back to
my clothes.

I realize that beating Stone in an obstacle
course is one thing, but I’m smart enough to know that my sharp
instincts will only take me so far. Out here in the wild, I really
have a lot to learn. I stop to think and wonder how far I would
have made it without Logan. I also begin to think that maybe I need
this skilled alpha a lot more than he needs me.

So why would Logan want to keep an
inexperienced runt around? Aren’t I slowing him down?

“
Want to try again
?” he asks.

“
Yes,”
I say, and this time I vow to
get it right.

S
o much for getting
it right.

After a day of hunting, our bodies are dirty,
our clothes are torn and our stomachs are still grumbling from lack
of real food.

As if sensing I’ve had enough for one day,
Logan turns to me, eyes me carefully and says, “Let’s pick some
berries and go get a drink.”

Discouraged and in a foul mood, I nod in
agreement. I take my dark disposition to the placid lake and as I
stare at my reflection, taking in my messed hair, the dark smudges
on my face and the grime that will never come out of my skin, Logan
disappears into the woods.

Despite the cold temperature, the water calls
out to me and I’d like nothing better than to get naked and climb
in. I long to shed these soiled, oversized clothes and scrub my
flesh clean but I have no idea how long Logan will be gone. The
last thing I want is for him to come back and catch me stark naked
in the lake.

I dip my hands into the frigid water, splash
my face, then smooth my long hair down. I work the knots out with
my fingers and gingerly tuck it behind my ears. It’s the least I
can do to appear somewhat presentable, not that I’m trying to look
presentable for anyone. I’m not. But it makes me feel a little more
human and less animalistic.

After I finish grooming myself, I go back on
my haunches, wrap my arms around my legs and listen to the forest
noises around me. Animals scurry about and wind whistles a soft
tune as it whips around the trees, carrying the fresh aroma of
summer sunshine with it.

As I decipher the unfamiliar sounds and
breathe in the invigorating scents, I try not to think about the
emptiness mushrooming inside me, emptiness for food, and emptiness
for those I call family.

Needing something familiar, I grab a small
twig and scrape it through the dirt. As I sketch a picture of the
ocean, I continue to sift through all the scents and keep my ears
perked for danger. Out here in the wild any kind of carelessness
will only get us killed. And if there is one thing I know, I have
to stop letting my attention stray to the boy who both fascinates
and impresses me with each passing minute.

It isn’t long before I hear the snap of
branches and lift my head at the sound. I don’t need to turn to
know it’s Logan. I can feel his penetrating eyes on me as he comes
closer and once again my body quakes in that familiar way it does
when he’s near. Fighting the urge to squirm, I square my shoulders
and take a moment to gather myself.

When I don’t turn, he questions, “How did you
know it was me?”

Once again I feel like I’m being tested. I
know after our uneasy truce we’re supposed to have each other’s
backs and can’t help but wonder if his uncertainty has something do
with last night, and how close, due to my carelessness, those
hunters actually came to finding us.

“You’re not very stealthy,” I blurt out to
cover the sting I can’t help but feel.

“I prefer to travel in wolf form.”

I hear something in Logan’s voice that I’ve
never heard before. When I turn and see him frowning, I get the
sense I’ve touched on a sore spot.

“I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay.” He briskly waves his hands over
his frame and I hear a hint of embarrassment in his voice when he
says. “It’s this body. Sometimes it doesn’t allow me to move the
way I want. It can be awkward.”

My heart gives an extra beat as I look him
over and think his body is anything but awkward. Then I think of my
own size, and how I wish I was bigger, and stronger, like him. I
lower my head and scratch at the dirt with my stick.

“I know what you mean.”

“Really?” he challenges as he hovers over
me.

My head jerks up with a start and I watch the
way his dark hair falls forward, shadowing his features. It makes
him look both rugged and mysterious. His glance rakes over me and
his frown deepens.

He drives one hand into his pocket. “How
could you possibly know what I mean?”

I open my mouth to argue but he waves his
other hand toward the trees and cuts me off. “You move through
these woods like a ghost, Pride, whether you’re in wolf form or
human form. I wish I was so skilled.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Are you kidding
me?”

“No. You’re lucky you’re small. Don’t think I
haven’t noticed how your size gives you agility and allows you to
do things I can’t.”

Humor lights his eyes and I watch, transfixed
as he pulls his hair off his forehead to expose fresh scratches and
dents. “Does this happen to you?”

A strange noise crawls out of my throat. It’s
not a laugh because I don’t know how to laugh, but it’s as close to
one as I’ve ever come.

“I hardly think a few bumps and bruises would
make you want to be a runt.”

He shakes his head. “I already told you
you’re not a runt.” When I give him a dubious look he says, “Let me
tell you what you are.” He holds his hands out and starts counting
on his fingers. “One, you’re light on your feet, two you’re able to
hide easier than I can and three you can move through these woods
like a lightning bolt. Unlike me, you’re a much harder target.”

As I think about that and recall the awkward
way he trekked through the thick foliage, I feel something
flourishing inside me, some strange sense of pleasure that I’ve
never felt before.

I purse my lips and the tight knot I always
carry around in my stomach loosens a tiny bit. My words come out
low, soft spoken. “I guess I never thought of my size as an
advantage before.”

Logan drops onto one knee beside me. His
glance collides with mine and there isn’t a trace of humor left on
his face when he says, “Pride, you’re one of the smartest wolves I
know and when you start thinking of your size as a strength instead
of a weakness, you’re going to be one heck of a formidable hunter.”
He stops to glance around. “Out here, sometimes it pays to be
small.”

I think of his strength and power, his
ability to run without tiring and the control he has when taking
down a deer. “Sometimes it pays to be big, too.”

He grins. “I guess we make quite the team
then, don’t we?”

Instead of answering, I shrug. This pack of
solidarity with an alpha I barely know makes me feel uncertain.

Logan sits next to me, cups my palm and
sprinkles a generous handful of big berries into the curve.

As my stomach grumbles, I toss a few into my
mouth, and the sweet juice explodes on my tongue. Wide eyed, I turn
to him. “What are these?”

“Wild blueberries.”

“They’re the best things I’ve ever tasted,” I
say through a mouthful as I toss in more and chew heartily.

Logan laughs at me as he munches on his own
berries.

I glare at him, feeling self-conscious.
“What’s so funny?”

“Your teeth and tongue are blue.”

I lean forward to see my reflection in the
water. I crinkle my nose as I run my tongue over my stained lips.
“That’s attractive.”

“Yes, it is. Very.”

My heart leaps at the deep rumble I hear in
his voice and as a shiver pulses in my blood, I work to steady
myself.

I clear my throat. “Logan?”

“Yeah,” he answers softly and shifts
closer—close enough for me to feel the warm strength of his
body.

I slide him a look. “Where are you
headed?”

“We’re headed north.” He gestures to a
distant spot. “Away from Port Angeles. I thought you knew
that.”

“No, what I mean is, where are
you
headed? Where are you going to go after we escape?”

“A place where I can run free.” He turns the
questions back on me. “Where are you going?”

I hate how he always manages to turn the
conversation away from himself, but answer anyway. “I’m not sure.”
I pause for a moment and think about those still suffering at the
hands of my master as I run my stick along the ground. “Back at the
compound there was talk about these packs that run free in Canada.”
I lift my head and look at him, to gauge his reactions. “Do you
think that’s true?”

A look I can’t identify moves over his face,
but before he gets a chance to answer we catch a strong scent of
animal in the wind. It wafts before my nose and both my nostrils
and hunger flare at the same time. Logan presses his fingers to his
lips and gestures to a spot behind me. I turn to see two deer in
the distance.

“What do you think?” he mouths the words to
me.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I say, my
untrained wolf nipping at me to morph and take chase.

He gives me a wink. “That’s my girl.”

I want to open my mouth to tell him I’m not
his girl, I’m not anyone’s girl, but when he silences me I press my
lips together and say nothing.

My joints crack as I climb to my feet, and a
few minutes later we’re both dashing through the woods in wolf
form. This time I’m unable to keep up with the alpha as he shows me
his strength and stamina in his primal form.

The rest of the day is spent hunting,
running, climbing and learning, and I know this is the way my wolf
was meant to live. I feel alive, and vibrant and almost giddy
inside.

Throughout the lessons I concentrate on
Logan’s voice. I listen carefully to his directions, learning
tricks that were handed down to him by his father. Soon I’m lost in
the day—in Logan—and I force myself to temporarily shelve my
worries in order give him my full focus. As I work hard, I take
pleasure in the hunt and enjoy the freedom in running with the
alpha. I exercise both my mind and body and Logan teaches me all
about wildlife survival.

Before I realize it, the day has slipped away
and darkness is upon us. I must say that while I appreciated his
survival lessons, I can’t help but feel I’ve let Logan down. My
wolf lacks Logan’s calm steadiness. She is young, untrained,
anxious and her youthful exuberance keeps scaring the game off. As
I look at the powerful wolf stalking toward me I once again wonder
why he bothers to even keep me around. Wouldn’t he be better off
without me frightening his dinner away?

As those thoughts bounce around in my head
and pull my attention, I veer away from Logan, and push through the
trees until they thin out. With my mind preoccupied I miss a low
hanging branch. Thorny fingers reach out to me, and slash through
my fur. I flick my tongue and taste the warm rivulets of blood as
they taint my tawny coat.

I’m about to take another step, but before my
foot comes down Logan leaps out of nowhere and blocks my path.
Standing before me, eyes feral, and lips peeled back, he pounces
and I land on the unforgiving ground with a hard knock.

Belly up and pinned beneath his thick paws, I
look up at him and my wolf makes a low guttural sound. As my heart
races, I expose my canines and I can’t help but think this is the
moment—the moment when the big bad wolf finally turns on me.

He presses his nose to the open cut on my
cheek before it has time to heal, and pulls the scent of my blood
into his lungs. He lifts his head skyward and lets loose a long,
agonized howl.

I’m not sure what suddenly prompted him to
turn on me. Perhaps hunger has finally gotten the better of him. Or
perhaps the scent of my blood caused his baser instincts to kick
in.

Regardless of the reason, it’s not in my
nature to go down without a fight, and I haven’t accepted death
just yet. I attempt to struggle out from underneath him but he’s so
big and so strong I can’t seem to gain any leverage. I do, however,
manage to work one paw free and slash out at him, catching fur
beneath my nails as my mother’s words of warning come rushing
back.

Trust no one but family.

The gouge doesn’t seem to slow him a bit. Air
rushes from my lungs as he flattens himself along the length of me,
and secures my body beneath his. I extend my nails and angle my
head to search for a weapon, ready to fight to the death if
necessary, but that’s when I see the bear trap. One I nearly
stepped straight into. As understanding pushes back my rage, a low,
distressed howl crawls out of my throat.