Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Cedara

"Cedara, listen to me." His voice is low, his hand outstretched toward me. "We have to get out of here. We can't do that with you as a wolf."

I bare my teeth as Barrett tries to reason with me. His words register, but something bestial stirs inside me at his increasingly forceful tone.

"Cedara, you have to listen to me," he says, his voice firm. "There are cops out there who are going to think you're one of the wolves that escaped if they see you like this. And not just cops. They're going to bring in hunters…dogs…even armed forces. I can't protect you from that."

Protect me…

A chill runs through me at his words, but the wolf remains defiant. I can't change back, not now. Not with the fear pulsing through my veins, the instinct to fight or flee overwhelming every rational thought.

"Please," Barrett implores, taking a step closer. "We need to get out of here before it's too late."

I snarl, hackles lifting as the wolf takes over. His proximity feels like a threat, his demands like a challenge to my control. A part of me recognizes the logic in his words, but it's drowned out by the roar of adrenaline, the need to defend myself at all costs.

"Dammit, Cedara!" Barrett's patience is fraying. "I'm trying to help you, but you need to snap out of this. Change back, now!"

His commanding tone is the final straw. With a ferocious roar, I lunge forward, jaws snapping mere inches from his face. He recoils, and for a split second, I see the shock and hurt in his eyes. And then they change, the darkness spreading as his features transform. My wild attack is stopped short as a heavy clawed hand curls into the scruff of my neck. He hauls me away with such force that I'm left dangling in the air.

"Enough!" The guttural rumble of his voice has me trembling. I yelp, the sound high-pitched and startled as I stare into the half-human face swimming before me. "We don't have time for this!" he growls. He's partially changed into his beast form, and even though I'm fully shifted, I'm no match for him.

I'm panting, partly from exertion but also from fear. I whine; it's plaintive. He sets me down…gently.

"Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't want to do that." Remorse flickers across his rough-hewn features. He's huge in his half-shifted state. Terrifying. Sharp fangs protrude from his mouth, the sinews of his neck roping down toward massive shoulders and a chest that's inhumanly wide. The fabric of his shirt strains, seams splitting.

And then it all begins to subside. Fur melting away, his bulging biceps returning to normal…or as normal as his biceps could be. The human takes over. He's still a giant of a man. I cower before him, then whimper, backing away.

"Fuck," he says again, rubbing a hand over his face. "This is not going well." When he dips down onto one knee, his posture unthreatening, I stop moving. "Cedara, you have to listen to me." He reaches out. I bare my teeth, but there's no threat in it, and he seems to know that. A broad palm cups my furred cheek. I whine again.

"I'm trying to help you, beautiful." His other hand reaches around, and he takes my face in both hands, cradling it. He leans forward until his nose is almost brushing my snout. I stare at him wide-eyed. "I'm not going to hurt you. But you have to change. Please." Rough thumbs stroke over the fur of my face.

I whine yet again, the sound torn from my throat. The silence stretches out as nothing happens. I'm still a wolf even though I no longer want to be. His impatience ramps up.

"Dammit." He sits back on his haunches. I mirror his posture, setting my hindquarters down. My soul is aching with the weight of my frustration. Without thinking, I tilt my head back and release a long, mournful howl.

The sound echoes around the small space before ebbing off into silence. A moment later, an answering call floats in from the valley below. It's followed by another. The sound of wolves reverberates around us.

The sudden report of a weapon has us both jerking in alarm. It's far away, but still, it's a dash of cold water.

"Fuck!" he barks out. "Be quiet, dammit! That's exactly what they're looking for, Cedara! Why can't you just-?" He stops when I whimper; I'm crouching low again. I don't like it when he's angry. Neither does my wolf. But we're both beginning to trust him. Even though that's just not enough…

I can't change.

She won't let me. At least, I think that's what it is. Because now both of us are aware of the danger we're in. I have to be human. I need to be human.

Gritting my teeth, I focus every fiber of myself on willing the shift to come. The sound of running water fades away, the cold stone of the cave floor barely registering as I try to alter my form. I shake with the effort…until, eventually, I give up in defeat, panting. My paws are still paws, my ears still pricked, my body still coated in dense fur.

It's not working.

I can't change. Neither can she. We're stuck. Just as we have been for all this time. Those brief moments of being human were simply a tempting glimpse of what I once was.

The noise that ripples up my throat is more of a groan than a growl.

"Fuck," he finally says, an look of realization flickering over his features. "You can't. You can't change, can you?"

I dip my head, crestfallen. He's right. This has nothing to do with needing to defend myself. When I'd felt the shift come hours ago, after he'd left and the men had patrolled past, and the fear had become overwhelming, I hadn't done it willingly. The beast stepped in and took over. Just as she had when I'd been roaming these woods. And now I'm locked in again.

"Jesus," he says under his breath. "This is a fuck-up."

I sink low onto the ground, dropping my head onto my paws, and look up at him. He settles onto his ass, sitting cross-legged in front of me. He rests his elbows on his knees, steeples his fingers in front of him, and sets his chin on his fingertips. Our gazes meet, and again, I'm taken by the beauty of his eyes. Up close, they're still dark, but I can see tiny tawny flecks in them that catch the light.

"I'm going to think of something, a way to get out of this," he says, his voice firm. But how can he be so certain? The minute I set foot beyond the cave entrance, there'll be a target on my back. And on his, too, if he tries to defend me.

I huff out a deep breath. Another whine ripples through me. He reaches out a hand and runs his palm over the top of my head, stroking down to my neck.

"We'll get out of this, beautiful. Trust me." He keeps stroking me, his touch soothing. I close my eyes for a second, sinking into the sensation.

There's a scraping sound as he shifts position, his boots grazing over the grit of the floor as he swivels and sets his back against the wall, sitting beside me. I huff again, not resisting when he lifts my head and then rests it down against his thigh. The warmth of his honed flesh seeps into my own, and I like it. It's soothing. I like the scent of him, and I like the feeling of him.

It makes me happy.

Or at least as happy as I could be, given our circumstances.

Which are what? That I'm trapped in a cave with a stranger called Barrett while dozens of armed men search the forest outside? Men who will shoot me the minute they catch sight of me?

Yeah, these are pretty messed up circumstances…and I've been through a lot, so I should know. Especially these past months since the attack on our packlands. So much of that time has been a blur.

God, how I long for it all to be the way it used to be. Our simple life, living off the earth, letting Mother Nature guide us. The hardest thing to deal with was a poor crop or bad weather.

Now, my next decision could mean the end of my life.

I want to go home.

If home even exists anymore. I suspect that it doesn't. I'm beginning to believe that the world I once knew is long gone. That all the things I held dear have been destroyed.

I let out a long, deep breath, and it comes out as a whimper. Which makes me feel even more pitiful.

I should be doing something, dammit!

What about Mom? Aunt Julie and Uncle Al? The kids!

They were all in there with me. But where are they now? What did he find out when he went back there? If I could find my freaking voice, I'd demand to know. But I'm mute, limited to growls and yips and ridiculous whines.

I lift my head, raising a foot to paw at his leg. My nails scratch at the thick denim until his stroking pauses.

"What?" he asks. I stare at him intently, wishing I could get through to him. Our eyes lock again. His brow furrows in concentration. "Your family escaped," he says abruptly. "They went with two of our people."

Oh, thank God!

I'm so relieved that I don't even bother wondering how he knew what I was thinking.

"I followed their trail to the outskirts of the sanctuary," he continues. "I can't guarantee anything, but if I know Edirn and Casey, they'll get everyone out safely. Your people are in good hands, Cedara."

Thank you, thank you, thank you, God!

He must see the spark in my eye because he goes on, "And the men who took them," his lips quirk up, "met a pretty bad end."

I'd wag my tail if I didn't already feel like a lapdog, lying here like some sort of pet. Despite this, when I exhale another deep breath, I instinctively drop my chin back down on his thigh.

They got away safely.

At least I have that weight off my shoulders. Knowing that they might be okay. My family is brave, strong, resourceful. They're going to make it. I know they are. I make a soft sound low in my throat, wishing I could say something.

"Shhhh…" Barrett soothes gently, going back to stroking my head. I gaze up at him, taking in the strong lines of his face. "I'm going to find a way, beautiful. I promise."

I want to believe him; I really do. Right now, as the sound of search parties builds around us, I can only pray that he does.