Chapter 1 - Beth

Freedom was the feeling of running through the woods on four legs. In wolf form, Beth was fast. Tireless. She could run through brush, leap over fallen trees, and splash through streams without stopping for a breath. Among the Rosewood Pack, she was one of the fastest.

Deep in the woods of Olympic National Park, Beth shook off her human form and its restraints. She shed the human worries. And then she ran. Alone. Her pack's alpha would never have allowed it. Spencer liked to keep his pack close, especially as the rivalry with the White Winter pack grew more heated. It was all too suffocating.

Her paws struck the soft, damp ground of the forest. Fir trees shaded her, but her pale golden fur stood out starkly in the dark undergrowth. Foolish, Spencer would have called it, but Spencer wasn't there. She ran faster. A rabbit leaped from a tangle of gnarled roots and sprinted in front of her, terrified. Beth could smell its fear and hear its tiny heart"s beat. On a whim, she gave chase.

She would have caught it in seconds if it had been a real hunt. She wasn't interested in eating it, so she let it gain a slight lead, let it think it was free. Pine branches scraped her sides as she ran. Her head was low, tongue lolling. The rabbit took a turn deeper into the forest, farther from the Rosewood territory, but Beth was not about to stop. Not now. Her own heart beat as quickly as the rabbit's.

Mud splattered her coat. Twice, she was close enough to catch it, got a mouthful of fur, and twice, she let it go. The rabbit was a flash of brown, skipping across the pine needles, and she was on its heels. Rather than snatch it again, Beth put on a burst of speed and ran alongside it.

Poor thing, it looked terrified. Eyes bulging, nostrils flared until she could see red. She looked at it rather than where she was going when stepping into a rabbit hole. Rabbit holes are deep enough to sink a human leg to the knee. Something snapped as Beth stumbled, brought to a halt by her fall. She slid along her side in the mud, whimpering. The rabbit hopped away, white tail vanishing into the brush.

Whining, Beth scrambled to her feet. Her front left leg buckled beneath her, and she was afraid to look at it and see the damage she'd done. Careless. Something was broken. She could not put weight on her paw or straighten her leg properly. No bones protruded, but the fur was scraped away, and raw, red skin shone underneath, bloodied by the fall. Beth lifted her muzzle to the sky and howled, long and low.

Her pack was far away, scattered across the nearby towns in their human forms. It was the middle of a work day, after all. She did not expect anyone to hear her. No one was coming to help. Pain was easier to manage in wolf form, and three legs were better than one, so she started the slow crawl home without shifting back. Panting, she retraced her steps, following her scent back the way she'd come. A chill flooded her as she realized how far she'd strayed from Rosewood territory in her wild hunt. It would be a long, long walk back.

Foolish, irresponsible. Spencer would give her an earful when she returned, and Adria would dote. Someday, she wouldn't be worried about someone else's reprimands. She'd be the one reprimanding.It was not the first time she'd had that thought, unrealistic as it was. Sometimes, she could only bite back the rebellious desires that rose when Spencer commanded her. He was a good alpha. She shouldn't think that way, but she chafed under his leadership.

Her inner musings shattered as a howl split the air. Higher than hers, louder and joined by a chorus of others. Frantically, she sorted through the voices, searching for one that she recognized, searching for her pack in the uncanny sound. But each one was unfamiliar. The burning ache in her leg vanished in the flood of adrenaline that filled her body. Don't panic. Don't run headlong. Be smart. Her own voice, not Spencer's, but it was his wisdom.

She listened again, ear cocked, as the howls rose. Southwest. At least ten of them, maybe closer to fifteen. Beth set her course for the northeast. Rosewood territory. Bold as the White Winter Pack had gotten, they would still stop at the territory line or risk the threat of an all-out battle with the Rosewoods. And they wouldn't risk that. She hoped.

Branches snapped as she pushed through them, ignoring the brambles that caught at her. She made for the coast. Adrenaline propped her up and kept her moving past the point where she should have collapsed, but her sides heaved with the effort of three-legged running. She was slow. Too slow. The next time the howls came, they were closer. Her hackles rose. Stupid, stupid girl. Why had she howled? It had led them right to her.

How quickly the hunter becomes the hunted. She was more rabbit than wolf then, heart pounding in her chest, ears flicking frantically to pick up the sound of the pack's approach. She wanted to slow down and listen for it but was afraid to stop and lose any lead she might have. Again, the urge to howl rose in her. She bit it down.

When the White Winter Pack closed in on her, she felt it. Something shifted in the air. The threat of danger that had hovered above her now fell like a cloak on her shoulders. She could smell them, foreign, hungry.

Branches snapped to her right. She veered left. A rocky overhang promised protection on one side, and she ran for it, head low, fighting every impulse that demanded that she look over her shoulder. It would only slow her down. The cliff ran to the coastline, and she hugged its side like a protector's hand, eyes glued to the right, watching for a streak of fur to break from the cover of the forest. Steady on.

Salt air filled her nostrils. The sea was close, and with it was Rosewood territory. It was the thought of safety that urged her on, past the pain that wracked her body with every step. The thought of safety blinded her to the wolf's approach. She was too focused on her goal. Tunnel vision, Spencer called it. Her weakness.

The wolf smashed into her, sending her hurtling sideways. Beth stumbled, nearly went down, but the soft sand's resistance caught her. A snarl warned her of the second attempt. She dodged with a burst of speed, and her jaws caught nothing but air, which was close enough for her to feel its breeze against her flank. Even injured, she was fast.

It was a rock that got her. Buried in the sand, hidden. She tripped over it, and the sudden collision of mobile against immobile caused her to go down hard. The world spun. Tumbling, she splashed into the water, stopping on her side. Saltwater lapped against her tongue.

Lying there, disoriented, the incoming pack's paws sounded like thunder against the sand. She willed herself to rise. On trembling legs, she turned to face the wolves.

The pack spread across the beach, surrounding her. She almost barked a laugh at that. One look at her would have told them all they needed to know, that she was in no condition to run. Her count had been accurate—thirteen wolves. There were more of them in the White Winter pack than what she saw in front of her, though the Rosewoods did not have an exact count.

"So close and yet so far." The mocking voice came from the wolf closest to her, the one that had taken her down. Female, mottled brown fur, small and light. Her voice sounded in Beth's mind. "And where are the Rosewoods to protect their own?"

Beth snarled, showing all of her teeth. She backed away, facing them, until her ankles were submerged in the ocean. There was nowhere for her to go, and they all knew it. The pack drew closer. She could see her fate now. Torn to shreds on the beach, left as a warning to the Rosewoods. Her legacy nothing more than a message between warring packs.

The female approached. Beth braced herself, loading her weight onto her hind legs, poised to spring. If she was going to die, she would do so fighting. At five paces away, the wolf stopped. She eyed Beth from snout to tail. Her golden eyes were bored, dangerous.

"I don't like the look of this one." Golden Eyes' tail flicked side to side. "We should just kill her."

"Don't be stupid. We won't get another chance like this one. We're taking her." This from a male, grey and brown, only slightly larger than the female. He loped up beside her, head to one side, repeating the female's inspection. "She looks fine to me. More than fine."

Beth's lips peeled back again, white teeth flashing.

The wolf's laugh was cold in her head. "And spirited. He'll like her."

She didn't like the sound of that. Was it better to die in pieces on the beach or in the heart of White Winter territory? It was not a question. Better to die free. Beth crouched low over her front legs, her left lifted slightly off the sand.

"She's injured. It will be too much work to get her back." Golden Eyes slinked closer. Beth could see the thrill of the hunt still glowing in her eyes. Bloodlust.

The grey male shouldered her away. "Enough. Rain is coming, and I want to be back before then."

Golden Eyes snapped at him, more for show than anything, spittle flying. A standstill. Then she relented.

"Fine. We'll take her."

Behind her, the pack moved in, tightening their circle around Beth. She whimpered, the sound slipping out of her before she could stop it, fear turning her legs to rubber. Better to die free, she repeated to herself. But the words had lost their strength with the other wolves so near, their breath hot on her fur, their teeth sharp and close. Headstrong but too weak to back it up. All bark and no bite. Spencer's words had never rung so true before.

"One step out of line, and I will rip you apart," Golden Eyes promised as Beth fell into line.

Surrounded by the White Winter pack, Beth was forced back into the woods. The Rosewood border grew farther away, and she hoped for a rescue with it. The wolves snapped at her heels when she slowed, catching fur and, once, skin. She nursed her wounds in silence, but her mind raced. Why were they taking her to their territory? If they hoped to ransom her to Spencer, they had another thing coming. He would probably pay them to take her off his hands.

"Whatever you think you'll gain from this, you won't get it," Beth said to the lone female, Golden Eyes.

They'd get a war. Spencer might not care about her, but he cared about the reputation of the Rosewood pack. This would not be ignored.

Golden Eyes whipped around, and Beth braced herself for a bite. Her eyes were bright and mocking. "The alpha wants you, sweet little thing. And so the alpha will have you."