Chapter 45 - Healing the Broken Alpha

Lenora

I felt a surprising sense of calm wash over me as I quickly analyzed the situation. I was not a strong woman, nor was I an exceptionally strong wolf. I knew I could never beat Asher in a fair fight. He had his legs spread as he leaned over me, leaving just enough room between his thighs for me to drive my knee into his testicles. I knew I had to make it count, and I used all of my strength to ram my boney knee into his tender bits.

His hands slipped off of me as he coughed out air like I had hit him in the lungs instead of the balls. I wasted no time to slip out of his reach and dart for the door. I had to get as far away from him as possible. I had to get around other wolves, wolves that would protect me from the Alpha’s lascivious brother. I had to believe that he was only acting so boldly because he was alone with me in the house. Surely out in public he would have to show some decency.

I flew down the stairs as fast as my legs would take me. I knew from the commotion and the swearing that Asher was not far behind me, but his progress was being slowed by the pain in his nether regions. I briefly considered running for the kitchen, where surely I could find some staff at work. However, most of the staff had treated me with cold disdain, I wasn’t at all confident that any of them would do anything to stop the Alpha’s brother from attempting to r.ape me right there in the kitchens. Remmy was the only member of the household who treated me like I was actually his luna, but I had no idea where the old man was, or if he would be capable of stopping the lunatic on my heels.

I heard his feet slapping the stone floor behind me as I hit the front doors, jumped off the steps and continued running. I looked frantically around the yard for any other person. Surely there should be a guard on duty, or a gardener, or anyone. But the front grounds were completely deserted, making me wonder if Asher had been planning this all along. Could he have actually dismissed all the staff ahead of time so he could do as he wished?

Instinctively I took off toward the woods, and shifted in flight, not caring at all as my clothes ripped away from my body. I knew Asher would shift, there was no chance I could continue to outrun him as a human. My muscles burned and my lungs screamed for more oxygen as I raced deeper into the woods. I gave over my motor function to my wolf, trusting her senses more than I trusted my own.

Running to the woods was a stupid choice, I realized as I crashed through the underbrush. The forest that surrounded the castle was still unfamiliar to me. I had only had a few days to explore it, while Asher had had his whole life to familiarize himself with every tree, rock and ravine. I crashed toward the small river and started to race upstream.

I knew where my wolf was taking us. She was headed for the ruined homestead, the abandoned cellar hole up on the mountainside. But she must have been crazy and confused, because that place was miles from the Blackstone packhouse, and Asher was close behind us. I could hear his furious snarls and growls, but I couldn’t waste precious seconds to look back and pinpoint his position.

The terrain grew steeper, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep running much longer. I had never spent much time in my wolf form, and I wasn’t in good physical condition. I could feel my muscles beginning to tremble. I had no other options left, I had to turn and fight. I reached a small clearing beneath a stand of birch and skidded to a stop, and then spun around to face my adversary.

Seeing that I had given up my flight, Asher’s wolf had also stopped running. Like the man, his wolf was pale, with cruel, pale blue eyes. His coat was silvery-blond, and his body was lean and lanky, giving him more of the appearance of a greyhound than a wolf. Nevertheless, I was no match for his size or his strength, nor was I skilled at fighting.

I could do nothing, but crouch low to the ground and wait for him to make the first move. Maybe I would get lucky. Maybe he would be cocky and make a stupid mistake. Maybe I could injure him enough to make a second escape.

Asher growled and snarled and snapped at me, while drool dripped from his mouth in long, disgusting ribbons. I saw his muscles bunch as he prepared to leap at me. Probably he intended to knock me off my feet, roll me to my back, and pin me by my neck. He could easily rip through my jugular if he wanted, but some part of me knew he wanted me alive when he took me.

I braced myself, and looked to my right, all the while I was intending to jump to the left, and hopefully avoid the full weight of his body slamming into mine. Fear and adrenaline left a metallic taste in my mouth, but just as Asher’s paws left the ground, a dark shadow moved over me, momentarily blotting out the sun. Flesh collided with flesh as the two wolves collided in midair just in front of me, and then fell to the ground in a tangle of dark and light fur, sharp teeth and long claws.

I should have used that opportunity to run, although I had no idea who or where I was supposed to run to. But I couldn’t move. My wolf was standing, trembling, as if paralyzed, watching the two wolves fight, but in the end, it wasn’t really a fight at all. The dark wolf was bigger, bulkier, more powerful than Asher’s pale beast. They rolled, parted from each other, only to spring again.

Even though he was fighting a losing battle, Asher’s wolf managed to sink his teeth into the larger wolf’s foreleg, tearing the flesh and leaving a large, ragged wound. The pain of the wound only seemed to strengthen the dark wolf and it lunged again, this time only narrowly missing Asher’s throat. Perhaps it finally dawned on the young man that there was no winning this fight. He slipped out from under the claws of the larger wolf, tucked his tail between his long legs and took off running down hill, away from his attacker, and away from me.

I was left, my feet planted to the ground, staring at my rescuer. The old saying “out of the pot and into the fire” was rolling around in my confused brain as the beast limped closer. I realized that the strange wolf had no scent, only the vague, lingering odor of mixed herbs. I also realized that there was something strangely dark and sad about him, as if the very air around him were devoid of hope and devoid of joy.

I was terrified.

I was mystified.

And it didn’t matter what I wanted, my wolf refused to budge. She wouldn’t take a step, neither closer, nor away from the creature. When I tried to connect with her mind, all I felt was confusion, anger, sadness, but no coherent thoughts. It was like being near the black wolf had caused radio interference between us, and there was now nothing but static in my mind.

He came closer, and I wondered what he would do to me. Unexpectedly, he let out a whimper that was completely at odds with his massive size and brutish appearance. It was the sound a puppy made when a brother or sister was playing too rough.

And then the air grew thick with ozone as the great wolf shifted back into a very large and very naked man. At first sight my addled brain thought I was looking at River’s body, but then I began to sort out the differences. Although similar in size and shape, the man before me had a ripped look that did not come from doing exercise routines in secret, but rather the sort of musculature that came from hard living and scarce nutrition. There was evidence of scars, but they were well concealed under a layer of dirt and filth. His green eyes were hauntingly similar to River’s but this man’s gaze was strangely vacant and simple. His dark hair was matted, and his beard was long and tangled into rope-like dreads.

It was the strange man I had seen in the woods at River’s uncle’s house. The grown man with the child’s smile. He was my unlikely savior.

The man whimpered again and clutched his arm against his chest. The wound he had sustained as a wolf was now oozing blood down his bicep until it dripped off his elbow. He rocked slightly and looked at me with pleading eyes, like he expected me to make it all better.