Tracking the Bear (Blue Ridge Bears Book 1)(29)

“Allow my blood to flow through you,” he coaxed. “Don’t you wish to run again? I can help you reclaim all that you lost. Is it truly too high a price?”

Lucy swallowed thickly, and I could see the thoughts clearly on her face. She wanted her life back. She wanted every experience she’d been denied because of her brother’s thoughtless mistakes. She wanted to be stronger. Her eyes flicked to me again. Her jaw set, and steely resolve flashed in her eyes.

“No thanks,” she said, and her voice carried even over the snapping and snarling of the wolves nearest me. “I’m not really a dog person.”

If I’d been human, I’d have cheered the brave stab of humor. But I wasn’t, and I couldn’t afford to be any time soon. I could detect the distant sound of paws hitting the ground. There must be more Ulfhednar on the way.

The Alpha bared his teeth at Lucy in a fierce grin. “I thought you might say something to that effect. In that case, my brethren will tear your bear to pieces. And when he is dead, and the spirit of the wolf slides beneath your skin, I will take you on top of his bloody corpse.”

I bellowed a warning when she rushed the wolf line, astonishingly kicking the nearest in the jaw. Its whine was probably more from shock than pain. She threw herself at Conan the Wolfman, clawing at his eyes. He caught her flailing arms with a chuckle and drew her flush with his body.

“Such fire! You will make an excellent addition to the pack.”

“You’ll never get away with this!” she shouted. “Chance will kill all of you. He won’t let you hurt me.”

“He cannot stop us.” He spun her quickly, so she faced out toward the assembled pack. The ring of wolves had stopped circling and stared at the Alpha solemnly. “This is but a small sample. We are over a thousand strong. I need only call, and more will come to our aid.”

He buried his face in her neck, with a feral smile. “Not that we need it.”

He bared his teeth, a flash of deadly white in the moonlight and sank his teeth into her throat. Lucy convulsed in his arms and she screamed, her face contorting in sudden agony.

I stood on my hind legs and batted at every lupine head in reach. There were yelps of pain and surprise and it was enough to clear a few feet. I charged and plowed over the only wolf that was stupid enough to stand in my way.

The Alpha released his hold on Lucy and she slumped to the ground, clutching at her neck. A pitiful moan escaped her lips. In another fluid motion he’d dropped to all fours, rapidly morphing into the enormous shaggy grey wolf he’d been before.

I was going to rip his throat out. I didn’t care that bites were the least effective vector for lycanthropy. If even a trace of his blood had seeped into her wound, she could change. She wouldn’t be my Lucy anymore. She’d be a lupa, a she-wolf. She’d be forever lost to me.

It didn’t matter that he was the largest wolf there. There was a reason wolves never fucked with bears one on one. He was two hundred pounds of muscle, tops, and he had no weapons readily available but his teeth. I, on the other hand, was over twice his weight, had ten razor sharp claws that I was ready and willing to use, and I was fucking pissed.

I rolled him, the same as I had in the clearing when Lucy and I had made camp. He was smart enough to avoid exposing his stomach, which was the only reason I wasn’t able to disembowel him for tearing into my mate.

I gouged deep furrows into his flank and he writhed beneath me. I was beyond caring about the wolves that had launched themselves at me, tearing into my back. This wolf was going to die for what he’d done.

“Get the fuck off him!” Lucy had apparently regained her feet, and the mallet she’d been using before the ambush whistled through the air, colliding with a wolf’s skull with a dull thunk.

The Alpha tried to regain his feet, but with six hundred pounds of enraged grizzly on top of him he wasn’t having much luck. I lunged for his throat, and fresh pain exploded across my face when his claws raked at my snout.

The heavy footfalls were close, and with an icy surge of realization, I knew I’d made a fatal miscalculation. The wolf managed to squirm out from beneath me and he and his fellows retreated into the woods.

I turned toward Lucy, who still held her makeshift weapon aloft. Sweet, brave Lucy who stood alongside me facing almost certain death armed only with a small rubber mallet. Fragile, human Lucy, who would stand no chance against what was coming.

I lumbered forward, putting myself between my mate and what was coming. I was injured, and some of the wounds were deep enough they would remain even after I shifted back to human. Her small, warm hands wound into my fur and she pressed her face into my side. I felt tears soak into my fur.

“You’re hurt.” She sniffed. “It’s my fault. I should have been faster. I should have stayed in the tent…”

A gigantic black bear crested the top of the nearest slope. Behind me, Lucy drew in a shuddering breath.

“Luke. Oh God no…”

There was nothing human in Luke Elmsong. His eyes were inky black in the moonlight, and filled with the sort of madness I normally saw in rabid animals. His fur bristled and his ears flattened to his skull as he took in the sight of me, crouched protectively over the only prey in the vicinity.

He let out a bellow of challenge that shook the trees around us. The message was clear. Move away or die.

Not fucking likely.