WithHerCraving (20 page)

Jarvis was proud of his mate. She played the perfect
hostess, choosing nice pieces of meat to serve the two owls and making sure
they were well seated by the fire. She asked about their stories and listened
with interest, and honored both of them by waiting on them throughout their
meal. It was late in the evening when the two owls left, promising they would
return if Jaeger sent word.

“We have a time-honored tradition in the mountains,” said
the shorter owl, whose name was Dane Silver Feather. “Some of the litters
living up here don’t have a way to get needed supplies, what with cubs or other
situations that might make it difficult to go into town,” he added, pausing as
if to say he might already know why Katrin and Jarvis had run into the
mountains. “If you tie a cloth up in the tree, one of us will come to your den
and, for an agreed price, bring your supplies to you.”

Jarvis nodded, already aware that owls viewed much of the
territory where werewolves lived as being part of their parliament. Owls didn’t
have the power to force any of them off the mountain. Not to mention these mountains
belonged to the Cariboo and always had. Katrin stood by his side as the two
owls walked into the trees and disappeared, their scents fading with them.

“There’s no reason why we couldn’t run to Banff if we needed
supplies,” Katrin said after the owls were gone. “There isn’t a pack living
there.”

“I think this was my littermate’s way of being nice. Jaeger
needed to send us a message and guessed we would need some basic supplies. But
yes, we could run into Banff,” he agreed.

“I’ve always loved the mountains,” Katrin murmured, her
scent turning thick with sadness. “But I never thought I would have to hide in
them.”

“It won’t be forever, my sweet bitch.” Jarvis wrapped his
arms around her and rubbed his face into her soft hair. “Your Cariboo blood is
strong and the other Cariboo on the mountain will accept you as one of their
own. Once we’re settled we will run down the mountain and learn where the other
dens are. It won’t be long before no one is howling about Malta werewolves.”

She turned in his arms, her body warm from the fire. “I’m
not ashamed of who I am.”

“Nor should you be.” He loved how the fire brought out the
different shades of blonde and auburn in her hair. Her eyes glowed as she
stared up at him. He pulled her closer, feeling her breasts press against his
chest. He wrapped his hands around her narrow waist as she rested hers on his
shoulders. “You honored our litter tonight with the owls.”

“Our litter,” she whispered, and went up on tiptoe,
stretching her hot body against his. “I like the sound of that.”

Jarvis grabbed her ass, pulling her closer. “Soon we will
have our den built and I will make cabinets for all your canned goods.”

She offered her mouth and he took it, tasting their dinner
and feeling her heat as he kissed her. When she moaned, Jarvis wished their den
was already built so he could take her to bed. Tonight, as they had every night
since arriving on the side of the mountain, they would change into their fur.
It was too cold to sleep in their flesh. Jarvis let go of her ass and moved his
hands under her coat to loosen her shirt from her jeans.

When he felt flesh, blood boiled in Jarvis’ veins. They
would make love in their fur and he wanted her out of her clothes now so they
could embrace the change. Already the sparks ignited in his spine, his more
primal side rising and demanding control of his senses.

“And we will have a bed,” she said, her lips moving against
his when she spoke. Katrin’s words were slightly garbled. The change was rising
inside her as well. “I can’t wait to wake up in our den and stir the fire then
return to bed. We can eat our kill while lying in bed together.”

The growl in her words was so damn sexy.

“With more nails, I should have our den ready in a week or
so,” he promised.

“You know,” she said, lowering to her feet and taking a step
back to pull her shirt completely out of her jeans. “Even faster if I used my
gift.”

Jarvis was preoccupied with the view of her flat tummy when
she began lifting her shirt over her head. Her creamy white skin looked soft,
warm and so damn enticing. He wanted to bury his head in her belly, kiss her
bellybutton and lick, nip and kiss his way to her hot little pussy.

Katrin sucked in a breath and held it, looking up at him
until he raised his gaze to her face. Her eyes were bright blue with slight
traces of silver flashing across her irises. The change was on the verge of
surfacing inside her.

“What I mean is this,” she continued. “I can do more than
fell the trees or make the chopped wood smooth as silk. I’m sure I can slice
the trees into boards and even raise the walls.”

“Do you want to build our den without me?”

“No, of course not,” she snapped. The spiciness of her anger
flooded the air between them. “You have the knowledge of carpentry. All I can
do is prepare the wood faster than if we
didn’t
use my gift. I’m half
Malta werewolf, Jarvis. I’m not ashamed of who I am and will have nothing to do
with all the reasons other werewolves hate me. I shouldn’t have to hide who I
am.”

“But you do have to hide who you are,” Jarvis countered.
“That is never going to change, Katrin. Or have you already forgotten why we
ran up here in the first place?”

“I’ll never forget why we ran here,” she whispered.

Jarvis dropped his hands when he had been ready to pull his
shirt over his head. “I don’t want to fight about this,” he told her. He wanted
to fuck her, not yell at her.

Katrin sat down on the log alongside the fire and began
unlacing her boots. “I am who I am, Jarvis. There’s no reason why I can’t be me
when I’m alone with you.”

He stared at her. Katrin had dropped her head and was
focusing on taking her boots off. Her long hair draped over her shoulders and
shrouded her face. She was so beautiful. She had honored him by serving the
owls after they’d brought the supplies. Jarvis knew Jaeger had paid them to fly
up the mountain but Katrin had still filled their litter with pride and honor.
In every way, she was his perfect mate.

But her gift? And her suggestion that she be herself when
they were alone? Who was she being right now if not herself? Did she feel she
was suppressing part of herself from him? That thought hit a nerve. He wanted
to know all of Katrin, always.

He didn’t like it when understanding clicked into his brain.

For Katrin, being herself meant being as much Malta werewolf
as Cariboo.

“When you ran to Prince George, you didn’t know your sire’s
blood would allow you to do these things,” he pointed out. He needed her to see
the insanity of what she suggested.

“But now I do,” she said simply, slipping out of her boots
and looking up at him. “It would mean a lot to me to help build our den by
offering all the assistance that I know I can offer. I can do a lot more than
I’m doing right now.”

“My sweet bitch,” he grumbled, and stifled his frustration,
not wanting her to smell it. “You are already helping so much.”

“Jarvis, you need to smell the truth. I want you to accept
me as Malta werewolf
and
Cariboo. That is who I am. Jarvis, I just want
to be me. And now that I know the extent of my gift, I want to use it.”

“You want to use it? You want to make trees fall with your
thoughts? You want to look at the wood and watch as the timber becomes smooth
without you barely touching it? Is that what you’re saying?”

She simply watched him. The answer was on her face. That was
exactly what she wanted to do. Jarvis combed through his hair with his fingers
and looked away from her. Katrin wasn’t thinking clearly. It was the only
answer he could come up with. She was smart. She knew what she suggested was
impossible.

But what scared him more than he wanted to admit was that
Katrin didn’t see her Malta werewolf half of her as a curse. Regardless of her
admitting she hadn’t forgotten the reason they’d run from Prince George, he saw
now that somehow she’d justified embracing the half of her that would get her
killed on site.

“Katrin,” he began, struggling for the right words without
howling at her. If this blew into a full-blown fight, her anger would make it
impossible for her to smell reason. “We aren’t as alone on this mountain as you
think. I know it seems that way when we haven’t smelled other werewolves. But
trust me, my sweet bitch, others live around us. You’ll see when we run down
the mountain how many dens there actually are. How do you think they would
react if they sniffed out the truth about you?”

“I don’t care what any other werewolf thinks of me,” she
said stubbornly. “All that matters is what
you
think of me.”

“I love you. You’re my mate and nothing will change this. I
know you’re anxious for our den to be done. I am too. Trust me, once it is done
we’ll have the rest of our lives to make it a den filled with love.” And cubs,
he almost added, but thought that might be pushing it at the moment.

“You only love half of me,” Katrin insisted, her incisors
longer than they’d been a moment before. She shoved her jeans down her legs and
yanked her coat off then stripped out of the rest of her clothes. “I don’t want
to use my gift because it will have our den done faster. Yes, I want it
finished as much as you do. But I want to use my gift because it is part of who
I am.”

“It is a dangerous part of you,” he snarled. “Katrin, where
is this coming from? The part of you that comes from your sire’s blood would be
your death sentence if we aren’t careful. I won’t lose you.”

“I’m proud of the blood running through my veins. Every drop
of it. And I won’t be with a werewolf who doesn’t love all of me!” she yelled.

One moment she stood naked before him. The next, the change
engulfed her system. Jarvis was too busy trying not to howl back at her to move
when Katrin dropped to all fours. There wasn’t time to strip out of his clothes
and drop to all fours before she ran away from him.

Jarvis was left standing next to the fire all alone.
Suddenly it was unbearably cold.

Katrin raced down the mountain. She didn’t have a particular
direction. Anger fueled her flight. She’d been a fool to believe no matter how
happy the two of them smelled together that Jarvis would understand. Katrin
needed to be who she was, half Cariboo and half Malta werewolf. It was
impossible for her to embrace one half and suppress the smell of the other.

Did you know how blessed your life was, sire?
She
paused when she reached a ledge then leapt six feet to smooth boulders below
and continued her flight.

She ran through thick groves of trees, leaped over fallen
branches and rushed around mounds of undergrowth. Katrin ignored all smells
around her. She didn’t pay attention to the star-filled black sky overhead. She
barely noticed if she ran down, alongside or up the mountain. All she did was
run. But no matter how fast she tore at the earth with her claws, stretching
her body to gain speed, there was no escaping her thoughts.

Her world had just turned upside down. Jarvis had fought to
stifle his anger but Katrin had picked up on its scent. He believed her blood
was tarnished. As long as he smelled only the Cariboo half of her, Jarvis was
able to love her. But the moment he sniffed out all of who she was, his disgust
shown through. He had been living in denial this entire time.

If she were able to cry, Katrin was sure there would be
buckets of tears by now. Her insides were torn wide open. As much as she wished
she had never brought it up and she and Jarvis had continued with their
blissful happiness, Katrin knew the truth would have slowly eaten her alive.
She had to howl her thoughts to him. And when she did, he had fought not to
release his anger.

It wasn’t fair. She was who she was. Katrin knew the world
wouldn’t accept her. But was it too much to ask of her mate?

No, it is not
.

When she slowed at the edge of a steep cliff, Katrin wasn’t
sure exactly where she was. Small rocks tumbled over the side of the cliff in
front of her paws. She wasn’t an expert on distance, but it was quite a ways
down to the next ledge. Katrin was high up on the mountain.

Taking time to slow her breathing, she also sniffed out her
surroundings for the first time. Maybe at the moment she wasn’t sure of her
location but she wasn’t worried about finding her way back to their den.

If there was a reason to go back there,
she growled,
walking in a slow circle and focusing on the flattened grass around her.

That’s when she noticed the scent. Katrin lifted her head
and searched the darkness. In her fur, the black of night was more a mixture of
different shades of gray. Shadows weren’t opaque. Her immediate surroundings
weren’t shrouded in dark too hard to see through.

As well, she breathed in all the smells around her. The ripe
smell of pine. The fresh pungent odor of the earth. A mixture of aromas from
small rodents who had darted to safety once she’d appeared in their corner of
the mountain. So many scents bombarded her senses.

Katrin wasn’t a pup. She’d run hard with her littermates
when their den had burned to the ground. It wasn’t rocket science deciphering
all the many smells in her immediate surroundings.

There was no reason to dwell on any of them. All were the
familiar aromas that clouded a typical mountain night. But one scent came to
her and she stiffened. It was the smell of a werewolf.

Had Jarvis chased after her this whole time and she hadn’t
noticed?

Katrin didn’t like her location. Whoever was out in the
trees might or might not have picked up on her scent. Either way, she didn’t
see them and the smell wasn’t strong enough to tell if it were Jarvis. On the
safe side, she darted away from the edge of the cliff and once again got lost in
the trees.

She was on a steep slope. Katrin dug her claws deep into the
earth and climbed, moving sideways across the side of the mountain. The smell
of the werewolf didn’t fade. But nor did it gain in strength. She was being
tailed.

There were two choices—belly-up or run. However, Katrin had
never been particularly fond of either of those options. In spite of how good
little female werewolves should behave, she’d always opted to stand her ground
and fight.

When she reached a small plateau where it wasn’t quite as
steep as it had been, Katrin took advantage of being the first to arrive. Her
sire had taught her and her littermates to always make the best use out of all
that was around them.

You never know when a rock might become your best friend
.

At the time, Katrin and her littermates had laughed at their
sire. Who would want to be friends with a rock? Now Katrin understood why her
sire had howled at the three of them. Even when they were cubs, their sire had
known a time would come when they ran with only their life to protect.

Was that where she was now? Earlier that evening Katrin had
been so proud to hold cans of vegetables to add with their kill. Her thoughts
were focused on a new kitchen—
her
kitchen, in
her
den.

Enough!
She lowered her head as the smell of the
werewolf grew stronger. Turning around and searching through the thick trees,
she sniffed the air. Her hackles went up.

Whoever was out there, it wasn’t Jarvis. Had he even run
after her? Granted, he’d still been dressed when she’d finally stripped out of
her clothes. But in their fur, Jarvis was a much larger creature than she was.
No matter that she’d torn across the mountain as if her tail had been on fire,
Jarvis would have been able to follow her scent.

The longer she pondered what his actions might have been, or
on the den she might never have now, the further she put her life in danger. It
was kill or be killed. Katrin let out a low warning growl, letting whoever was
closing in on her know that she would fight to the death.

Her life might be pure hell at the moment but Katrin didn’t
plan on dying.

She sniffed the air again. Someone was very close to her.
Their scent was ripe with excitement. She also smelled defiance, possibly
anger.

That’s when it hit her. She was picking up on the smell of more
than one werewolf.

Crap! Oh crap!

Katrin forced a calming breath into her system. She’d been
in this position before. Not in such a small space, where running from them
would be a tough option, but Katrin knew how to hold her own.

Three Cariboo males entered her small clearing. Two were
wagging their thick white tails. The third moved stiffly, his adrenaline
smelling strong as he stared at her with almond-shaped silver eyes. In spite of
the height of the many trees around them, enough moonlight came down to glisten
off their coats.

She stared at their open mouths, three tongues dangling to
the side, and all of those long deadly teeth bared into snarling smiles. The
largest of the three, who was at least twice her size, was the one who smelled
of so much aggression. Katrin knew this type of Cariboo. Her sire had sometimes
dealt with them in the flesh. This male was a mountain man through and through.
He lived by his own code and despised anyone in his world who believed he
should run their way.

Katrin had her own code. Maybe it wasn’t in her nature to
run. However, even if there had been open space, at this close range there
would be no outrunning the three of them anyway. But she would fight. Matching
their stance, she offered her own toothy grin.

Looks like I need to teach a few males some manners,
she growled, shifting her attention to each of them. Katrin didn’t wag her tail
though. She had no intention of letting any of them believe they were going to
get a good time.
You three need to learn that a female running on her own
doesn’t mean you get to fuck.

Katrin barely had her message out when the werewolf to her
far side lunged toward her. He went low and fast, rushing at her with his scent
turning wild with lust.

Obviously simply telling them how it was wouldn’t work.
Katrin’s instincts took over. There wasn’t time to be scared, or to hesitate
over what her move might be. She’d just told herself it was kill or be killed.
There was no arguing that logic or she would be the one dead.

Katrin leaped out of the way but grabbed flesh with her
teeth before letting the male fly by her. He howled in pain. The metallic smell
of blood was almost as strong as thick, spicy outrage.

The other two males moved in closer, standing shoulder to
shoulder when the third limped up alongside them. None of them were smiling
now. Katrin didn’t want to play their game. These males had no use for a female
who wouldn’t lift her tail with a welcoming grin.

Which was fine with her. Katrin had no use for males who
believed females were for fucking and leaving belly-up as they pranced away and
sniffed out the next easy lay. She didn’t smell anything on them that indicated
they would be any nicer in their flesh.

If they knew who they had sniffed out, who Katrin really
was, they might not have wanted to fuck her.
Better watch out, werewolves.
Didn’t your mama ever tell you the Malta breed was insane?

They moved closer, ignoring her low, rumbling warning. There
was alcohol on their breath. These three were quite likely drunk when they’d
decided to change and go for a run on the mountain. That might, or might not,
be to her advantage.

Depending on how sloshed they were, none of them possibly
detected the colors in her fur. If they had, it might not have meant anything
to them. All they sniffed out was a female. All any of them appeared to care
about was gaining her willingness. Katrin already knew she didn’t have to be
too willing. They would rape her as easily as they would take her if she
bellied-up.

She took a step backward, snarling. Katrin trembled. It was
from the surge of energy building inside her, not from fear. As long as she
believed that, she would keep her head clear and keep herself alive, and their
filthy paws off her.

Glancing up, she did her best to make sure all males were
lined up. The tree falling would distract enough for Katrin to run and not be
caught by any of them. She wouldn’t risk them being able to track her scent
though. It would take a while to run back to her den. She didn’t need to look
over her shoulder every couple of minutes and continually sniff out different
odors of the night. Nor did she want assholes knowing where her den was.

This was a first. Making a tree fall was an incredible
accomplishment. Katrin had never thought it necessary to fine-tune her gift so that
the tree landed exactly where she needed it to be. Back on Toubec’s ranch she’d
been lucky, and reeking of outrage. That tree had taken out three wasted
excuses for Cariboo werewolves. She needed that luck on her side again. The
tree had to distract and block their path so they weren’t able to follow her.

Knowing she had less than a second to save her own tail
didn’t help her move any faster. Nor did it smell right relying on luck to save
her life. Katrin stared at the tree she’d taken less than a second to choose.
There was so much about her gift she still didn’t understand. One thing was
clear, though. Not once had using her gift smelled wrong. She had to rely on
instinct.

Reaching into the depths of her mind, she ripped the thick
trunk out of the ground, uprooting what looked like giant claws and talons.
They tore up the earth and sent saplings, surrounding undergrowth, and rocks
flying in different directions. Showing off for Jarvis by making a branch fly
with super speed through the air had been fun. She needed more than orneriness
and defiance to make a giant tree fly. It took all of her energy to hurl it
toward the males.

She didn’t know how much a tree weighed, but it seemed heavy
enough suddenly to crush her mind. Katrin stumbled, wondering if her aim was
terribly off. She swore it came down on her entire body. Then she panicked, and
thought the males had leapt on top of her.

As instantly as the giant weight had damn near suffocated
her, it lifted. Katrin stood on all fours. The incredibly ripe smell of fresh
dirt pulled deep from the ground was as strong as her scent.
I did it. It
worked—I think.
There wasn’t time to check.

She flew backward, leaping off the ground and hurling
herself. A tree trunk stopped her just as the earth shook and sound exploded in
her ears.

The large tree crashed to the ground, landing directly on
top of all three males. It wasn’t panic but sheer survival instinct that made
her run—run like hell. Run before she was tracked—tracked as a Malta werewolf
who had just killed three Cariboo werewolves.

* * * * *

Katrin remained where she was. She didn’t smell any water
nearby. In her desperation to flee the scene of her crime, she hadn’t noticed
until much later that blood from the three dead male Cariboo stained her coat.
She didn’t have the energy to keep cleaning herself. It wasn’t all coming off.
The males would return to their human form once they were dead. The stench
would easily be sniffed out by any werewolf passing by.

Katrin stared out the entrance of the cave she’d found in
the darkest hour of the previous night. Dawn was setting in. Light shown
through hanging brush that hid the entrance from obvious sight. For now, she
was safe.

Safe as long as she didn’t leave to hunt or find water.
You
can only hide for so long
. Her throat was raw and her growl sounded more
like a pathetic whimper.

There had been no choice last night. Once she had ripped
open the flesh of the male who had lunged at her, the bloodlust in all of those
werewolves’ eyes had been as strong as the smell of their sexual deviancies.
They would have torn her apart.

Katrin laid her head on her paws. She wasn’t sure how far
from the dead males she had run before finding the cave, which she’d done
purely by accident. Yanking that tree out of the ground and throwing it with
her mind had done something to her. Afterward she seemed unable to keep her
balance. Running was a chore. She would have looked like a drunk werewolf if
anyone had spotted her. Katrin fell more than once and finally had toppled and
landed sideways at the entrance of the cave.