Tagging Her Lynx (Alaska Lynx Clan)

This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of
the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed
as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Tagging
Her Lynx

1st
Digital release: Copyright© 2010 Abby Wood

2
^nd
Digital Release: Copyright© 2013 Abby Wood

All
rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically
or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.

www.authorabbywood.com

Chapter
One

The
lone woman carried a bucket overfilled with half-frozen raw meat to one of the
many cages on the wildlife refuge. Granger sat back on his haunches. He wanted
to keep his presence unknown to the other animals and the woman.

With
the grace of one who knew how to walk in a foot of snow, she moved in and out of
the enclosure, performing her normal morning chores. The prominent long hairs
at the tips of his erect ears twitched. He'd watched her in utter fascination
for so long, yet he never tired of learning more about this woman, his mate.

The
snow flurries picked up and swirled around him, coating his back and the fur
between his eyes. Every couple of minutes, he swished his ass to shake off the
snow, only to have it return within seconds. The beginning of winter, and yet
snow lay thick over every surface, coating the landscape and anything else that
dared to stay outside.

The
woman's arctic parka didn't hide the smooth flow of her walk or the shape of
her body. He knew her inside and out. Every valley and round part on her body
was branded in his head, without his ever having touched her.

His
highly developed sense of smell absorbed every aroma. Jasmine came from her
chestnut-colored hair, and a hint of womanly scent clung to her clothes. One
whiff and he knew she'd taste perfect. Each night he licked his lips, just imagining
the moment he would approach her and take her for the first time. Not yet,
though. She needed time to mourn before he toppled her world upside down again.

He'd
been waiting for the pain in her heart from her father's passing to lessen, but
lately a new danger presented itself to her, and she had no clue someone else
stalked her. His people struggled to stop the danger, but every minute of the
day and on through the long nights he worried about her safety. If she'd come
to accept her powers, they would serve to protect her well if he weren't
around.

His
mate moved to the outside cages, where a bear sat huddled in the corner of a
sturdy enclosure. Set apart from the other cages, inside a six-foot cyclone
fence, the bear didn't move at the sign his breakfast had arrived. She smiled
and stepped back. No fear radiated off her, nor did she flinch from standing so
close to an animal that possessed the ability to rip her to shreds.

He'd
already checked to make sure that she didn't house any shifters by mistake, and
the place had come back clean. She remained in his territory, and even without
her knowledge, he swore to keep her safe.

The
crunch of tires over the snow-packed road leading to her house drew his
attention away from the refuge. His ears flicked back flat to his head. The
muscles in his legs tightened, and he crouched deeper into the snow. Hunters
this time of year preyed on lynx for their full winter coat.

The
truck moved past him at a steady pace, the tires sending a continuous crackling
noise resembling an inflated balloon being rubbed over the shifting powder of
snow. He slunk along the mounds of snow that hid the brush normally found on
the side of the road. Creeping closer to the house, he needed to place himself
within a close distance, in case she needed him.

His
woman raised her head at the hum of the approaching truck. She was not yet
fully using her senses; he'd have to help her with that. She reacted slowly to
the arrival of visitors.

The
scent of apprehension and distaste ran off her, and he bared his teeth in a
snarl. She didn't want to deal with these men, and he wondered why. What made
them different from the men who showed up in an official Alaska Department of
Fish and Game truck twice a week?

***

Chloe
slid the small pan of meat into the hare's cage, hurried out of the enclosed
area, and waited to find out why these men had come back to the refuge. She
lowered her brows in irritation. They had better not have a wounded animal with
them. This would be the second time this week they'd stopped at the refuge.

Judging
by their suspicious natures, she concluded the last time they dropped by
unannounced that they snagged animals on the side. It didn't make sense.
Hunters and trappers always dispatched the wounded. Why these two men even
cared about saving an animal's life puzzled her. She decided to put her foot
down and refuse to accept any more animals from them.

The
passenger-side door opened, and a heavyset man bundled up in a camouflage parka
and wearing bunny boots stepped out into the snow. The fur-lined hood tied
around his face hid his features from her view. She wrinkled her nose. Even
from this distance and with the snow coming down, distorting the space between
them, the scent of evil assaulted her nose.

Taking
care of hurt and sick animals was second nature to her family. It killed her to
think about sending one away. Her father ran the place even before she came
along, and now that he no longer lived, she alone kept the refuge up and running.
Besides the occasional citizen who brought her a wild animal they'd befriended
and needed to let go, the Alaska Department of Fish and Game warden kept her small
business brimming with caged animals that needed her help.

The
last few animals these men brought her were riddled with buckshot. She
understood why people hunted and trapped; this was Alaska after all. But
neither man owned up to pursuing those lifestyles. Their concern for the
animals rang false.

Her
refuge was the only rehabilitating facility on the North Slope. Without her, the
animals would end up down in Anchorage. There they'd be dispatched, or worse,
made to suffer.

"Hey
there. Found another one for you." The heavier man approached her.

Once
he was up close, she took in his unshaven face and haggard appearance. She
fought the desire to step away from him, but she didn't want to leave the
entrance to the other animals' area unprotected. Not that a man twice her size
couldn't knock her out of the way with one swipe of his arm if he wanted to
force his way inside.

The
driver joined them in front of the truck. "Got a wolf for you."

"What's
wrong with him?" She didn't change her position.

"Shotgun
blast over its back end. Its momma is gone." He spit on the ground. "It'll
never make it through the winter alone. It looks like a yearling, perfect size
for a predator."

The
fat man walked away from the conversation, and although he tried to sneak
behind her, she was aware of his every step. Last time they tried to gain
entrance to the animals' area, she'd set the rules down hard and fast. Nobody
was to go inside the refuge except herself and the occasional inspector from
the animal control department. That was it.

"Get
your friend out of my area, and bring me the cub." She stepped back and
motioned at the man who stood ready to step into the entrance.

He
stopped, turned, and headed back toward the truck. She exhaled the breath she
held. Why they would want inside the refuge puzzled her; she wanted them gone
for good. She dealt with people she trusted, and these two were creepy and put
off a bad vibe.

The
two men shared a glance, then walked behind the truck and proceeded to yank off
the tarp covering the metal cage. Together they hefted the pole they had
inserted through the bars of the cage and lifted the container down to the
ground.

"Go
ahead and keep the cage. We'll come back for it later." The heavy man
smacked the top of the enclosure, and if that weren't good enough, he swung out
his leg and kicked the cage, startling the animal inside.

His
friend laughed.

"No!"
She stomped over to the cage and bent down. "You'll take it now, and for
your information, I won't take any more wounded animals from you. I take legal
animals only. I don't want to know what you're doing or where you get them. I
want you off this property."

She
unlatched the cage door and gently lifted the young wolf out. She straightened
up with the animal clutched in her arms. The men stepped back, mouths hanging
open, and held up their hands. She didn't care if they wondered why the animals
never bit her. She wanted them gone.

"Go.
Now!" She lifted her chin.

"Christ,
lady. Your dad never turned us down." The smaller man stepped toward her.

She
held her stance. "Well, he's dead. I'm running this refuge now."

She
swallowed the lump that rose in her throat, desperate to hide how much it hurt
to talk about her father. "I'll accept no more illegal animals from you.
That's final."

He
advanced.

The
wolf in her arms had stayed quiet throughout the conversation but perked up at
the man's approach. He lowered his head and let out a low growl.
Good pup.

Her
hand roamed over the thick, matted fur on the wolf's hindquarters. Little round
buckshot balls fell to the ground silently and were lost in the depths of the
snow. She concentrated on drawing each one out to comfort the animal.

"Listen
here, bitch. Your ol' man dealt with us, and you will too." He wiped the
frost that gathered over his mustache. "You'll work with us and keep your
fucking mouth shut, or..."

His
arm rose. She squeezed her eyes shut as if to hide from the pain heading her
way.

A
bloodcurdling scream came out of nowhere, and she opened her eyes. The hair on
the back of her neck stood up, and in record time, she absorbed every detail of
the lynx sailing through the air at the height of the man's crotch. Claws,
razor sharp and fast, struck out repeatedly on his intended target, faster than
the man could move to protect himself from the damage.

Gray
fur tinged with white, the lynx moved with agility and strength. She inhaled.
The cat's pleasant, musty scent kept her from recoiling in horror.

Human
screams mixed with the snarling of cat. The man staggered back, his arms spread
wide in disbelief. He seemed unable to grab the animal or shield his body from
harm. She guessed the shock of surprise paralyzed him.

His
friend stood glued to the same position beside him, raised his hand, and
covered his mouth. He didn't lift a finger to help, his anguished gasps the
only proof that he understood what was happening to his friend.

Chloe
stroked the wolf to keep him calm. She cocked her head at the lynx. This was
not one of those she'd helped recover and that revisited her on occasion. A
stranger, but she wasn't afraid. It barely registered that the lynx intended to
kill her attacker.

Red
drops of blood splattered the white canvas of snow around the brutal attack.
Her lips curled into a smile, which then turned into a snarl of pleasure. Her
nose twitched at the sweet metallic scent that wafted along the ground in the
cold air. The bones in her arms tingled with thousands of pricks, taunting her
to shift, but she continued to pet the wolf's back.

Unable
to control the desire any longer, she ran back to the enclosure of the refuge,
past the other animals staring out of their cages, and deposited the wolf in a
vacant receptacle. The pup recovered fully from the buckshot she drew out with
her power.

Desperate
to find privacy, she shoved boxes of food, feed sacks, and bedding aside. She couldn't
allow herself to shift in front of the others. She couldn't handle it if
someone witnessed the disgusting way her body contorted into a lynx.