7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

F ury

I wake to a world of white. The storm raged through the night, blanketing everything in a thick layer of snow. After rolling out of bed and pulling on my pants, I open the door and don't bother to step outside because at least three feet of snow has blown against it. Fuck. There's no way we're hiking out of here anytime soon.

After closing the door, I shake off the clinging flakes that blew into my hair and beard. Natalie sits up against the headboard, her eyes questioning.

"Looks like we're stuck here for a while," I grunt. "Storm dumped about three feet overnight. We're not going anywhere until it melts."

Her face falls, then hardens with determination. "Okay. We'll make do."

When she eases out of bed, wrapping herself with a quilt as she hobbles toward me, I barely control my growl as I ask, "What do you need? I'll get it."

After she asks for clothes, I stride to her little dresser and grit my teeth as I'm tasked with rummaging in her drawers to find a shirt, yoga pants, and underwear. It's a good thing I'm wearing black cargo pants that might just be thick enough to hide my growing erection. The only excuse I can give myself for my lack of self-control is that the search and rescue after a double shift has left me at less than optimal capacity.

Now, though, I've turned my back to her as she pulls on her clothes so excruciatingly slowly that I almost bark at her to hurry the fuck up. It's only by reminding myself that every movement must be killing that sprained ankle of hers that I manage to bite my tongue.

Finally, we take inventory of the cabin's meager supplies. Canned soup, dried beans, some crackers.

"Ten cans of beef stew? Have you tried that crap? Maybe humans' taste buds are different than mine, but shit, I had some once. All I tasted was tin."

She shrugs. "Cheap, shelf stable, and filling. The trifecta of serviceable cabin cuisine. Besides, I inherited them from the last guy. I agree. It tastes like shit."

I chuff, then keep looking as though a pizza or burgers are going to magically appear. She's got carrots, potatoes, and onions in the back of the cupboard. Not counting the inedible stew, there's enough for a day or two, but not much longer.

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my beard. "I'll need to hunt. See if I can track down some game."

Natalie nods, her lips twisting to the side in thought. "Be careful out there."

I flash her a cocky grin, ignoring the way my heart stumbles at her concern. "I'm a wolven, remember? This is what I'm built for."

Suiting up in my warmest gear, I head out into the wintry forest. The snow muffles everything, an eerie quiet broken only by the crunch of my boots and my foggy, measured breaths.

At first, the snow seems to have driven all the prey into hiding. But then I catch a whiff of a nearby mammal. Through the glinting snow, I see rabbit tracks .

I drop into a crouch, my senses sharpening as I stalk my quarry. The world narrows to the trail before me, the thrill of the hunt singing in my veins. This, at least, is something I understand. Out here, I'm not an outsider, an "Other." I'm a predator, sleek and deadly, perfectly adapted to my environment.

The rabbit bursts from cover and I lunge, a blur of speed and strength. My hands close around the small, struggling body, a quick twist snapping its neck. Dropping to my knees and bending my head, I whisper the traditional wolven prayer of thanks to the Goddess for the gift of its life.

I pause a moment, unconcerned with the wet cold seeping through my pants, as I remember the last time I did this. It was at the Gathering of the Clans, the morning before I was ripped out of my world and dragged here.

Raw emotions swirl through me as I remember things I've long forgotten. My connection with the soil, the smell of something other than the smog of L.A., my true belief in the love of the Goddess. I used to believe she loved me, that she watched over me, that she would keep me safe.

In return, I prayed to her, lacing every aspect of my daily life with conversation with the deity. I prayed every morning upon rising and at night before going to sleep. I thanked her for the abundance of game and prayed over every life I took to feed myself, my sister, and my parents. There was such comfort in a life where I knew the rules and only had to follow them to be assured I would be rewarded.

The Goddess and I haven't been on such good terms since I was stolen from my old life by a mechanism that, even after all these years, the human scientists can't figure out. We became even more estranged when the Goddess, Ani Wei, allowed the scientists to experiment on me as though I was no more than an animal.

" Ani Wei, asta preen ," I whisper, head bowed. It seems the right time to ask for forgiveness, perhaps to start anew with the world covered in fresh, white snow. "Asta preen," I repeat. Maybe after all this time, I should not only ask for forgiveness, but I should forgive her, too, for forsaking me.

Over the next hour, I manage to take down two more rabbits, enough to keep Natalie and me fed for a while. As I loop back toward the cabin, the metallic scent of blood reaches my nose.

I freeze, hackles rising. Death hangs heavy in the air. Cautiously, I follow the scent, emerging into a small clearing. There, sprawled in the churned-up snow, lies the body of a wolf. A female, her once-glossy black coat now matted with rime.

A choked whimper draws my gaze to a hollow beneath a nearby tree. A lone wolf pup, black as night and no more than a few months old, huddles there, shivering violently. His little ears are flat against his skull, golden eyes huge with fear and confusion.

"Aw, hell," I mutter, my chest clenching. This little guy won't last a day out here alone, especially with this weather.

Slowly, broadcasting my movements, I inch toward the pup. He cowers, whimpering, tail tucked tight.

"Easy there, kleine rauk ," I croon in Wolven. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Inch by painstaking inch, I creep closer, until I can scoop the trembling ball of fluff into my arms. He's skin and bones, all oversized paws and ears. Although they're different species, my heart twists with memories of my little sister, lost to me long ago.

I check the mother wolf for any sign of life, but she's long gone, her spirit already running with the ancestors. There's a bullet hole in her flank. Some asshole hunter made a bad shot. I wonder how many hours—or days—it took the poor thing to bleed to death.

Holding the pup close, I kneel beside her cooling body, bowing my head. "Pleur, amrit sharr. Mei alten ahs rrohvahl etter rauk ." I rasp, the prayer clogging my throat. "Bring peace to her soul, and cast protection over her pup. "

For a long moment, I simply kneel there, shoulders bowed under the weight of grief and memories. So much death. So much loss. And for what?

The pup's cold nose against my chin jolts me back to the present. I tuck him into my jacket, his little heart fluttering against my own.

"Looks like it's just you and me now, rauk . Let's get you somewhere warm."

As I make my way back to the cabin, pup against my chest and brace of rabbits in my hand, I try to figure out how I'm going to explain this to Natalie. She didn't sign up for two useless predators invading her space. But I couldn't just leave him there.

With perfect timing, the next band of snow starts the moment the cabin comes into view. "Lucky you, rauk . Looks like you'll be spending the night in the cabin because with this weather coming in, there's no rescue in sight."

Natalie's eyes go wide when I come stomping in, a wriggling lump in my coat.

"Fury, what…?"

After setting the rabbits on the counter, I carefully extract the pup, holding him out to her, hoping she'll accept him.

"I found him. In the woods. His mother… she didn't make it."

Natalie's face crumples with compassion as she reaches for the little creature. The pup immediately snuggles against her, nuzzling at her fingers.

"Oh, you poor little thing," she breathes, blinking back tears. Looking up at me, her expression softens with wonder.

Something in my chest eases—the knot of worry that she'd reject him. Natalie fusses over the pup, already falling in love, and I'm struck by an odd sense of rightness .

This shouldn't feel so natural, the three of us, two broken creatures and an orphaned pup, thrown together by chance and a blizzard. And yet…

I shake off the thought before it can take root. Maybe the fucking altitude has addled my brain.

But as Natalie looks up and meets my gaze, her brilliant smile warming me more than any fire, I can't help but wonder if maybe there's still a shred of hope left for me in this bleak world. A chance at… something more.

With effort, I tear my eyes away and hang my coat on the peg by the door. Keep it together, Fury. Remember what she is. More important, remember what you are.

Still, with the three of us playing house in this cozy cabin, I can almost let myself pretend, if only for a moment, that this could be my life. That I could have something more than ice in my chest where other people's hearts are.

Stop it right now! I remind myself that I long ago accepted a life bereft of a mate or pups. Hope is meant for other people, not me.