Beneath a Blood Moon (47 page)

I whined, pulling at the collar in my effort to free myself. The muzzle kept me from grabbing the leash and chewing on it. Howling my frustration, I clawed at the straps around my head with my front paws.

“Yes, sir, that’s her.” Howie twisted around in the driver’s seat to stare at me. “She’s trying to remove the muzzle.”

“Tell him about her attack,” Doug suggested in a low voice.

“Not much to tell you, sir. They were fresh out of the river when we pulled up. The Alpha just watched us, standing over the bitch. She took offense to our presence and would’ve attacked us if he hadn’t grabbed her by the scruff and held her back. Guess his nerve broke, because he dropped her and ran faster than anything I’ve ever seen. She went to follow, but Stephanie caught her. Okay, sir.”

Pulling the phone away from his ear, Howie tossed it to Doug. “We’re to take the bitch to the rendezvous and meet up with the others. We’ll get a new fix on him and try again. They want to see her in person.”

When the car reversed, I whined, my fear over why they wanted me second only to my anxiety over being separated from my mate.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I exhausted myself struggling to get free from the collar and muzzle, and my entire body trembled from stress and weariness. I submitted with a whine, lying on the seat. I forced my mouth open enough to pant, glaring at my captors.

Stephanie watched me, her gaze unsettling me almost as much as the fact I was a prisoner.

“Poor thing. Wonder where he found her. You haven’t heard of any bitches going missing, have you?” Stephanie asked.

“No idea. I was told his missing bitch was a black puppy in wolf form. Sure, she’s small, but she’s no puppy, and the only thing black about her is that stripe,” Howie replied. “What’s your witchcraft telling you?”

“Not a whole lot,” the woman replied. “But I think we better be really careful with her if we’re going to use her as bait.”

“Why?”

“I’m no water witch, and it’s not my sort of thing, but I got a decent look at the Alpha, and he was scrawny—far scrawnier than he should be. The little bitch here, however, is plump around the middle. Two weeks is plenty of time during the rut for him to sire some puppies. We’re a long way from New York, far enough he’s been pushing fairly hard to get here so fast, and he’s been hunting to keep her healthy.”

I turned my ears back and showed my teeth, growling low and long. My wolf was as unimpressed as I was with the woman.

We had worked our mate hard for a puppy, and he had more than met our expectations.

“To make things more interesting, I’m fairly certain she understands every single word we’re saying, so I doubt she’s some wild bitch,” Stephanie added. “Some pack somewhere must have had a young bitch stolen from them.”

“Well, fuck me,” Howie replied before sighing. “We’re almost at the rendezvous. We’ll deal with it then.”

I spent the time fighting to break free of either the collar or muzzle, failing to make any progress. While the silver didn’t burn me, it repelled my efforts, leaving my paws tingling from the contact with the accursed metal. When the car came to a halt in a parking lot, several other idling vehicles were waiting.

Doug clipped a leash to my collar, grabbed my scruff, and lowered me to the ground. “You can make this easy and heel, or you can make this difficult. Your choice, bitch. I could punt your skinny ass across a football field if I wanted.”

Snarling at him, I gathered myself and lunged away from him, putting all of my strength into a sudden jerk on the leash. He shouted in pain and surprise as I ripped the leather out of his hands. Stumbling at the unexpected lack of restraint, I recovered, skidded, and ran from the parked cars as I made a bid for freedom.

“Doug, you bloody moron!” Howie bellowed.

“She’s fucking strong.”

“No shit she’s strong; she’s a Fenerec. What the hell were you expecting?”

The concussive burst of gunfire startled a yip out of me. Shards of asphalt erupted in my face. Yowling, I changed directions, terror whipping me to faster speeds.

A long road stretched out as far as I could see, fringed by waving grasses. I barreled towards the plains. Slowing long enough to draw a deep breath, I howled.

My mate’s distant cry answered me, and homing in on his call, I changed directions and howled again. Encouraged by the knowledge my mate was close enough to hear, I ran as fast as I could. Out of the corner of my eye, something large and pale drew closer. Panting too hard to even whine, my panic rose.

A vicious jerk on my leash slammed me to a halt. I hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of my lungs. Inhaling, I yowled my dismay and scrambled to my paws, twisting around to fight.

The wolf who gripped my leash in his jaws was a match for my mate in size, and he was growling at me. His pale fur was frosted with dark tips. I snarled and snapped my teeth, digging my claws in and jerking back to try to yank the leash free. My wolf panicked, and I howled my distress.

My mate didn’t answer, but appeared moments later to slam into the other wolf from the side, snapping his teeth. The two fell together in a heap, fur flying as they tore at each other. With my leash free, I backpedaled out of the way. Satisfied with plowing the strange wolf over, my mate disengaged and leapt away. He ran in my direction and drove me forward with nips to my flank. I yipped and obeyed. I was aware of him grabbing hold of my leash, carrying it in his mouth while we fled.

I faltered first, stumbling as I slowed. Without hesitation, my mate grabbed me by the scruff, lifting me up. Too tired to tuck my legs or tail, I hung limp in his jaws, panting to catch my breath. My mate slowed to a trot, checking over his shoulder for signs of pursuit. His satisfaction radiated through our bond, and I relaxed.

Instead of stopping like I expected, he kept going.

Sanders didn’t halt until we reached a knoll, one of its slopes eroded away to form an overhang. Lowering me to the ground, he dropped my leash, placed his paw between my shoulders, and pressed me to the ground. I submitted with a whine.

My mate bared his teeth and tried to work at the muzzle’s straps, but they resisted his efforts. He yipped when he drew too close to the silver. Without the fumes of the cars and humans to deaden my nose, I recognized the stench of the metal burning my mate. While none of it touched me, there was enough to prevent my mate from manipulating them with his teeth. Echoing my whine, he once again tried to gnaw at the leather.

He failed to free me.

My mate succeeded at removing the leash, but the collar and muzzle thwarted him. He managed to bend the silver cage and loosen the underlying leather enough I could fully open my mouth, but he hesitated to damage it—and himself—further. I couldn’t hunt, nor could I eat without his help. Sanders had to tear meat into scraps and feed them to me one tedious bite at a time.

At least the silver didn’t burn me, though I didn’t understand why.

Three days after our escape from the humans, I trembled from exhaustion and hunger. My wolf slumbered, too weak to even attempt to exert dominance over me. I whined, fighting to keep up with my mate’s lope. Our progress slowed due to me, but the gauntness of his frame filled out as he ate what I couldn’t.

The next day, my mate found a rocky outcropping we could hide beneath. Instead of marching west, he left me behind to hunt. While he was gone, I curled in the darkest shadows of our makeshift den, dozing to regain my strength. At nightfall, he returned, dragging a calf behind him. Its ear was marked with a tag.

He fed me scraps of his kill until I rejected his offerings. He devoured the rest on his own. When he finished, all he left were scraps of gnawed bones, the tag, and offal neither of us found appealing. Instead of denning for the night, we walked until sunrise, my mate matching my ambling pace.

We settled into a pattern, heading ever westward, traveling with minimal hunting for several days. When we found a den secure enough to appease my mate, he hunted, bringing back enough meat for both of us. While part of me recognized something wrong about my mate preying on captive animals, neither my stomach nor my wolf cared for humans or their herds.

Rabbits and groundhogs weren’t enough to sustain my mate. Sheep weren’t either, and when he hunted close to farms with them, he stole two or three of them during the night. On those nights, we left with the dawn, avoiding the places where the humans lived.

When the full moon rose, we were skirting the base of snow-covered mountains. My mate’s ears pricked forward, staring up at them with his amber eyes brighter than normal. Wolves howled in the distance, and he considered them. I yawned, leaning against him. Bending to me, he nipped my neck, his affection warming me from within.

That night, we denned in the foothills. My mate found a hole at the base of a tree, which he opened enough for him to pass through. The inside was large enough for both of us, which satisfied him. Once I curled up inside to sleep, Sanders left to hunt.

He didn’t return.

When dawn came, I howled for my mate.

Silence answered me.

I whined, pacing around the opening of the den, pausing to scratch where the collar and muzzle straps rubbed away my fur and left my skin raw. While the cage prevented me from eating on my own, it didn’t hamper my sense of smell. I put my nose to the ground, sniffing to catch my mate’s scent.

The trail led me into the foothills and ended near a road. I pawed at the snow. Sanders’s blood taunted me, splotching the whitened ground with dark brown. Another whine worked its way out of my throat. Enough stained the roadside to worry me and my wolf.

My mate was hurt and gone. While patches of snow were covered with his blood, I was unable to pick up a trail because he had fallen so close to the road.

I couldn’t even tell which direction to go. All I knew was that he was alive, somewhere beyond my reach. I sat on the shoulder of the road, my head drooping. My mate had wanted to go west, driven by some need he was incapable of sharing with me while a wolf.

Lifting my head, I stared up at the mountains. The road slanted upward, and without any other options, I rose to my paws and walked.

The sun rose high in the sky and began its journey west before I encountered a car. It was a sleek, sporty thing. I watched it go by, twisting my ears back as it headed down the foothills. Too tired and hungry to trot, I ambled up the hill, muzzle low to the ground.