Immortal Wolf. Bonnie Vanak
all you want. You’ll be talking to air, peabrain.
Thinking of the mighty Kallan as a peabrain gave her small comfort. Emily continued on through her beloved forest, exiting into a sloped meadow. Dewy grass sloshed beneath her feet as she ran.
The property’s edge was within reach. Freedom. Emily ground to a halt, instinctively knowing the boundary. She stared at the dirt separating the Burke’s land from the outside world.
Her gaze whipped over to the crest of hill before her. Beyond the property lay freedom. If she worked up the courage, she could escape. Flee her fate.
Her overprotective father and Urien rarely allowed her to venture outside their territory, warning of great dangers. Morphs with talons ready to shred delicate skin to ribbons. Their fangs were long and yellowed, their greed for Draicon flesh very great.
Her heart raced with fear.
If she fled, where would she go? What if her touch killed humans as well? Emily’s heart wrenched at the thought of taking another innocent life.
Something moved in the darkening shadows. Shapes. Restless, pacing back and forth as if caged. Nothing but a band of coyotes. Urien had been wrong. The outside world presented little danger. Not compared to the larger, taller threat silently stalking her.
She stepped onto the roadway.
A stench like feces and rotting garbage filled her nostrils. Terror squeezed her heart like a strong fist. Emily recognized the forms as they came closer to the property’s edge. Close enough for her to smell their hot, fetid breath. Close enough for her to see the flash of black in their eyes.
Morphs, the ones who feasted on Draicon flesh.
Emily screamed.
Chapter 2
Raphael tore down the pathway, alarmed at the distressed cry. There, from the woods’ edge, near the property line. Emily. Something threatened her.
Instinct took over. He ran, waving his hands and eliminating his clothing as he did so, changing into wolf.
She stood in the gathering darkness, gloved hands to her mouth. Trembling as if a mighty wind shook her.
Just on the other side of the small, narrow dirt road he saw them.
A line of Morphs staring her down. As if they wanted her dead and would devour her heart.
While it still beat inside her chest.
With a snarl, Raphael leapt onto the road, charging the Morphs staring at Emily.
“Stop! They won’t come here!”
Stark fear in her voice snapped him to a halt. His paws skidded in the loose gravel. The Morphs inched backward, their hunched, shriveled bodies twisting, talons outstretched as they hissed at him.
Raphael growled at the enemy. Wanting to snap and tear and destroy, every instinct rising to attack. But his charge was his first concern. He wouldn’t leave Emily alone, facing danger.
The Morphs shapeshifted into wolves, loping off silently. Raphael trotted back to Emily and shifted back to human form. A cold wind brushed against his naked skin, chilling his bones. He clothed himself with a wave of his hand, looked at her terrorized face.
“Are you all right?”
Emily stared after the Morphs. “They won’t come on the property. Urien said it was the magick shield on the land, but I think it’s me. They fear me.”
Raphael sensed her inner turmoil and challenged her. “Then why not leave?”
A frown creased her lovely face. “I should. I could, but in the past, Urien said they’d attack in packs, cloning themselves and sacrificing the clones to kill me. They would strip the skin from my bones and eat my heart to ingest all the magick I have. I know I’m going to die, but I don’t want to die like that.”
Anguish tinged her voice. Raphael’s heart dropped to his stomach. Damn, this was going to be tough. All this time he’d been Kallan, he’d never faced such a challenge.
Think of her, not yourself.
“Emily, let’s get back. You’re shivering,” he said in his gentlest tone.
Raphael shrugged out of his leather jacket and went to drape it about her slender shoulders. She jerked back as if he were a hot iron. “Don’t touch me!”
“I was only going to offer you this.”
“Then you’d have to destroy it after I wore it.” She backed away. “You’re supposed to be wise. Everything I touch is contaminated. My own people can’t stand being within ten feet of me. They won’t let me touch anything. Even the livestock. I can’t feed them, water them, care for them. I’m unclean.”
Raphael’s heart twisted.
“Stop looking at me like that. I hate pity. Damn you.”
With a swirl of skirts, she spun around and stormed off toward her cottage. Raphael gazed after her. He’d leave her alone for now. Come morning, they had work to do.
Once Emily had loved the dark. Now it brought only fear of the night and terrible dreams chasing her through sleep. Last night’s had been particularly gruesome. Long, yellowed fangs ready to sink into her flesh, eager to rip and tear.
Emily hooked a band of hair behind her ear. Before sleeping last night, she had managed to calm herself enough to decipher a snippet of the sacred texts.
“The Destroyer has been sent to kill her. The Chosen One surrenders herself to the Destroyer.” Two sentences having a vague interpretation. But what if she did surrender herself to the Destroyer? What then?
She had become too upset, and the words blurred to nothingness before her eyes.
Emily poured herself a cup of coffee, donned her gloves and took the cup outside to enjoy the morning air. Distress filled her as she spotted Raphael sitting on the rocker on her porch. In a dove-gray T-shirt, jeans and boots, his powerful body tensed, he stared into the woods.
“Why are you on my porch?” she demanded.
Silence met her. She tracked the line of his gaze and saw a small deer peacefully cropping dewy grass. “What are you looking at?”
“Prey.” His voice was low, intent.
His back to her, Raphael stood and tugged the shirt over his head. Muscles rippled beneath his smooth, tanned flesh. Her mouth went dry as she stared. He reached for the waistband of his jeans.
“W-what are you doing?”
“I’m going to hunt. I haven’t eaten deer in months.”
“There are no deer where you’re from?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Where I come from, we eat nutrias. Rodents bigger than small dogs. They look like mutant beavers.”
Fascination stole over her as she watched him shed his clothing slowly and carefully. Emily suspected he did it on purpose to get a reaction.
She reacted.
She had seen naked men when her pack males shapeshifted into wolves. But not this beautiful. His legs were long and sturdy, his bottom taut with muscle. His broad shoulders tapered down to a lean waist and hips. Fascinated, she studied the rippling muscles of his tanned flesh. An odd marking in blue ink decorated his strong left bicep—a dagger that had intricate runes like the Sacred Scian thrust through a heart.
Iridescent sparks started to shimmer around him, then faded. “Aren’t you joining me?”
A ripple of pleasure went through her. Her pack hadn’t invited her to run with them in years. Emily leaned back, sipping her coffee.
“I don’t hunt anymore.”
“Why?”