Chapter Nine

Denial

A Long River

Hunger gnawed at him and drove everything else from his animal mind. His gray eyes opened and searched around him. Breathing in the scents, seeking a meal. He released his empathic call, summoning, seeking. Demanding those who were weaker to submit to him.

The wolf that was Athair could feel many near him. He sensed two women, many smaller animals, several cats, and a small dog. It did not matter. Whatever would come to his weakened call would be his.

Several of the smaller animals began making their way toward him. He could feel them coming. One woman slept, but he could sense the other sharply. She recognized his call and stood, but then stopped and puzzled over her sudden need to see the wolf. He felt her reach back with her thoughts as she started walking. In his mind, the soft feeling was a caress. She felt his raging hunger and stopped again. Then understanding and compassion flooded over him.

Stunned, he withdrew. She could read him. How could that be?

His surprise broke through the hunger and Athair remembered her. Remembered himself. Knowing that she, Hope, would come, he ceased calling out to the others. He looked past the hunger, trying to hold on to his sense of reason, the part that made him a man, not an animal. He stood on a pile of blankets placed at one end of a small room made of wire. He didn't remember standing, but she must have put him here on this bed to heal. And he was healing. That was what was driving the hunger through him. The thought relieved him, as that meant some of his magic would function despite the poison still affecting him. He reached for the power to shift to his human form and realized the poison prevented that ability and probably most of his magic, leaving him completely at the mercy of this woman, this healer.

Hope felt the wolf's hunger. Felt it? How could she feel it? How could she even know he was awake?

But of course, the wolf was due to be awake and would surely be hungry. It really wasn't such a long jump. She'd fix some food to take in for him, and if he was still asleep it would be there for him when he awoke.

What would a wolf eat? She started to dig into the cupboard for the dog food kept for Granny's terrier, Taylor, but stopped. Somehow, fixing a bowl of Taylor's Iams didn't feel right. Hamburger and rice would be easier for the wolf to digest his first couple meals.

She looked in the refrigerator and found steaks and no hamburger. She boiled the rice and fried the steaks.

Athair growled. She hadn't come yet. But why? He reached out again to feel her rushing through the rooms toward him. She came through the door carrying a tray with food and water bowls.

That was smart, and it got her off the menu. Not that he ever ate humans, but he was feeling hungry, wolfish, and unpredictable. Was that from the poison or from being trapped in wolf form?

She didn't enter the wire room but slid the tray beneath a hinged opening...another smart move.

"Hello there, old man." She spoke softly to him. "How are you today? You shouldn't be standing yet, but I see you are, so I brought you something to eat." She motioned to the tray and stepped back from the wire, probably thinking he was afraid of her. How ironic.

She continued to speak in her quiet, soothing voice, "Don't be offended by the name. Steve thought you must be the daddy of all wolves. I thought his words were close enough." She sat on an upturned box across the room and waited for him to come closer.

He marveled at her courage to stay near him as she continued to speak in her low silky voice. That voice flowed through him, easing his pain and calming his wild instincts. He wanted to listen to her voice all day, perhaps for all time, but the hunger drove his attention to the tray. Without moving he smelled the meat she had brought him. It was beef, lightly cooked, mixed with rice and some kind of sauce. It smelled delicious.

He stepped toward the food and stumbled, reminding him just how seriously he'd been hurt. His left front leg barely supported his weight. Food would help. With nourishment, his body could continue the healing process. He gave a soft growl of frustration and limped to the food. He bolted the first several swallows to satisfy his starving body, and then continued with smaller, neat bites of the delicious food.

The meal was perfect. Filling and tasty. She had even cut the meat into small bites that required little chewing. He sent out his thanks to the woman using his empathy.

"You're welcome." She stood to leave, then froze when she realized she'd heard him thank her. She turned to stare at him, her mind racing. She remembered the feeling of being called and of sensing his hunger. She eyed him suspiciously. "What are you?" She faced him squarely through the wire but took a step back so that she was closer to the door just in case.

He stepped away from the wire, and his feeling of surprise filled her. She wondered how she could feel his emotions so easily. Now she knew he felt vulnerable in the cage despite looking fierce and dangerous.

"I will not hurt you,"he reassured her mentally. He also sent her soothing, calming waves of empathy.

"I heard that!" She jumped back and bumped into the doorframe. "What are you?"

"I am a man."His words flowed through her mind. Although his mouth didn't move, his wolfish face showed changes in his expression. Clearly, he was cautious about the situation.

"You are a wolf." She countered him with the obvious.

"That, too."He looked tired, and his words were quiet and reserved.

Hope could see and feel the fatigue that rolled off the wolf or whatever he was. "I put a sedative in your food."

That got his attention quickly enough. He tilted his head at her and narrowed his eyes. She felt his disbelief. "You poisoned me, also? What is it with people these days? A simple ‘no thank you, please go away' would do. It is no longer safe for a man to take food."

She interrupted his slightly muddled rant. "No, I didn't poison you. I wanted you to rest and get better. The medicine will just make you sleep."

Hope paused in her explanation and wondered again if she was perhaps losing her mind. Had she just imagined a conversation with a wolf? An argument? Was he really something more than a wolf? He hadn't acted very wolf-like, and this brought her back to the whole werewolf issue. The wolf, or whatever, limped unsteadily to the pile of blankets and carefully lay down.

"What can I call you?" she asked. His name suddenly seemed very important.

"Athair. ‘tis Gaelic. The children call me Athair. No other name now."

She wasn't sure what to make of this statement, because it didn't make any sense. Less so, because it had come as no more than a whisper since he was quickly fading to sleep. Had he said Athair? What children? His? With a slightly hysterical giggle, she thought, children or puppies? He had said children, hadn't he?

It was all too much to believe. She must have overworked herself stitching him back into one piece, but never mind that. She still needed to check him over to be sure he was healing well.

She slowly opened the kennel run door and stepped into the cage. His breath was slow and steady, already deep asleep. To be on the safe side she smacked the metal bowl against the floor, producing a sharp ringing sound. He only twitched one ear. Hope crossed quickly and examined him to determine if his injuries had improved. They had. In fact, they looked much better. More like it had been a week or more instead of two days since she'd found him. Strange. Only his neck and shoulder wound still needed attention. She'd left a small tube in that one to allow drainage from the torn flesh. She could now see that it was unnecessary. After retrieving a few tools, she removed the small tube and cleaned up the area.

Although she'd finished her exam, she couldn't bring herself to leave him yet. She found herself stroking his sable fur, marveling at the soft, silky feel to it. The color that she had first thought was gray was actually a beautiful light sable, a mixing of the lightest ginger with a soft brown. The hair closest to his skin was a soft cream. He was a magnificent animal.

If he was an animal.

She sighed. She needed to get back to the real world. Leaving the room, she was sure she must have imagined the whole conversation she'd had with him.

* * *

Dàn sat with his feet resting in the shallow stream next to their campsite. His body was still wracked by pain and his powers fluctuated wildly. If not for the others watching him so closely, he would have laid down in the flowing water and allowed the cool rivulets to run over him, to soothe him. He focused on the feel of the water lapping against his feet and ankles and tried to ignore the misery within the rest of his body.

He felt the power within him fighting for release, but he didn't dare let go. As fragile as his control was, he would become a menace to the world. Dàn feared that part of himself so much that he hadn't allowed it loose in centuries. It so wanted to be freed. His wounds hurt from the outside, but inside he was torn apart as well from ‘it' seeking freedom. Of the two, it caused the greater damage.