The Wolf's Wife (The Wolf's Peak Saga Book 1) Read online

  I needed to be as quiet as possible, yet move as fast as I could. Once I was under the cover of trees I stopped running and switched to a brisk walk, trying to avoid stepping on sticks or dry leaves. The trees here were dense, but the moonlight still managed to illuminate the forest floor. A soft breeze blew through the trees, cooling me as I walked.

  My heartrate was finally starting to drop. I worked to keep my breathing steady, but I was still weak from my illness. After a while, I needed to stop and take a break, but I wasn’t happy about it. I found a thick tree and sat down, putting my head between my legs to steady myself. When the world wasn’t spinning quite so much, I leaned back against the tree, breathing heavily. I took in my surroundings—the thick trees, the dirt floor, moonlight streaming down to the ground. I still saw no animals, and that hadn’t stopped bothering me. No squirrels or raccoons or rabbits. The forest was empty.

  A wolf howled in the distance. Was it the monsters, or a normal wolf? I had no way of knowing. For the first time, I began to second–guess my decision to flee through the forest. I didn’t know what was out here. Clearly, the wolves were still around, and wolves or bears could be waiting for me at any turn. I pulled my bag tightly against me, threading my hand into it and finding my fingers closing over the handle of the knife. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to keep it in my hands, just in case.

  I needed to keep moving. I stood up, the knife at my side. I brushed the dirt off my nightdress and kept going, weaving through the trees, a new awareness of the danger of my surroundings. The farther I got, the darker it got, and finally I had to pause to light the lantern, praying that the bobbing light wouldn’t attract the wolves. The gentle breeze had turned into a blustering wind, and it took several tries to light the lantern. I wasted more matches than I would like to admit. I stood back up and hesitated. I was fairly certain of which way I needed to keep moving. I glanced back and could see the path from where I came. Yes. Straight. That was the direction I needed to go.

  I shivered in the wind. For August, it was much cooler than I had expected it to be. I pulled my coat around me. I glanced up to see clouds starting to accumulate over the moon, and I prayed that it wasn’t going to rain. That was the very last thing I needed. I picked up the pace, my eyes darting around the dark forest.

  I saw something run in front of my path, a dark shadow, and I paused. Was that real, or were my eyes playing tricks on me? Was it the flickering of the lantern? I didn’t know, and that was disconcerting. My pulse began to race.

  I slowed down a little bit, trying to let my eyes adjust to the ever–growing darkness. Shapes still floated in my periphery, and tree branches swiped in the wind, creating an unsettling feeling of constant movement around me. I was beginning to grow dizzy. I needed to stop and take another break. I cursed as I sat down against another tree.

  I took a few deep breaths, trying to clear my head. The dark shadows danced around me, making me more and more disoriented. Finally, I was able to stand back up, but when I did, I saw a flash of something.

  “Mommy, mommy, come see!”

  It was the same forest, but the sun was shining brightly through the trees. My field of vision was several feet lower and was running unsteadily between the trees.

  “Hold on, sweetie, I’m coming,” a voice said. My vision turned, and although my emotions were happy and light, what I saw made me freeze. It was my mother. I recognized her from the few pictures my father had kept. Her dark hair was coiffed back, and she wore a long, pale yellow dress. She was smiling broadly, her eyes twinkling in the light.

  “Look, I found a bunny!” the little voice said, and I realized it was coming from me, a younger me. I was having a memory of my childhood. I didn’t remember anything of my mother, and the sudden flash of my childhood shocked me.

  I scrambled to my feet, determined to keep going. I picked up the lantern and pushed forward, working against the wind swirling around me. I made it a few feet before having to pause again. The unsettling memories coupled with the shifting shadows and strong wind was making me so dizzy I could barely stand. I vomited.

  “Look at the bunny, Mommy!”

  “Oh, how sweet,” my mother said. She knelt down beside me in the dirt, not worried about her skirts getting dirty. “Look, he has a friend.”

  “A friend!” A tiny, fat hand reached out to stroke the rabbit, who seemed unbothered by the fawning.

  I heard the snap of a twig, and it was impossible to tell if was in my vision or in reality. My mother turned and stood, looking around her.

  “What was that?” little me asked.

  “Shh,” my mother said, putting her finger to her lips.

  I stumbled through the trees, my emotions a wreck. I loved finally seeing my mother in my memories, but why now? This was the worst possible timing. I was trying to get out of these woods, and the visions were making me sick, the world spinning around me, causing me to stop and pause every few feet. I shook my head and drew in a deep breath, sucking in the cool, moist air.

  Shadows darted around me, my vision shifting from sunny to dark, from memories to present day. In the dark, everything seemed ominous. In the sun it wasn’t much better, a dark streak running circles around us.

  “Christine, come here,” my mother said, holding out her hand.

  “But Mommy, the bunny!”

  “Come here now.” Her voice was taut and tense.

  In present–day I clutched at a tree, the bark scraping my palm as I tried to steady myself.

  My mother scooped me up in her arms, but I struggled. “No, the bunny!”

  “Come on, Christine. It’s time to go home.”

  “No!”

  There was another crack in the woods. This time, I thought for sure it was in reality, that a bear or wolf was coming to get me, but I was useless as I tried to readjust myself.

  My mother turned with me in her arms, and I screamed. In front of us was a large, gray wolf, teeth bared as it came toward us. My mother stepped back.

  “No,” she said. “Stay back.”

  I collapsed to the forest floor at the urgency of my mother’s voice rising out of the past, the dirt cool underneath my fingers. My knife fell from my hand, but I managed to steady the lantern. It flickered across the ground, making the shadows long and thin.

  The wolf advanced. My mother turned to run, the trees flying by us as I clung to her neck. Her feet faltered and she tumbled to the ground, spilling me from her arms. I rolled, hitting my head against the tree.

  My hands clutched at the dirt as I vomited again. Raindrops fell against my skin as the world spun around me.

  “Mommy!”

  The wolf pounced on her, crushing her throat in his jaw. He tore it away, blood spilling across the sunny ground. Little me screamed, and big me did too. I kept screaming as the wolf grinned at me, then ran away through the trees.

  “Mommy! Mommy!”

  My small form crawled toward my mother while I crawled on the ground toward a tree so I could regain my footing. My hand slipped and I tumbled again to the ground. I stayed there, unable to move.

  “Mommy, no!”

  My hands were covered in blood as I tried to roll her over, my tiny hands slipping across her face, streaking it with blood, trying to wipe it on my little white dress.

  “Christine,” she whispered, blood spilling from her mouth. “Christine, I love you so, so much.”

  “Mommy!”

  I was crying, screaming, shrieking, and not just in my memory. My whole body shook as sobs racked me, tears mixing with rain falling from the sky. I was soaked and dirty, curled up in a ball at the base of a tree, rocking back and forth.

  “No,” I whispered. “No, no, no.”

  I watched the life leave my mother’s eyes.

  “I love you,” she whispered one more time before closing her eyes forever. I threw myself over her.

  I don’t know how long I sat there crying. I don’t know how I managed to leave the woods that day, and I didn’t know how I
would manage that night either. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them and cried.

  I cried for the memories I had suppressed for so long. I cried for my mother and my father. I cried for the life I thought I had, mourning the fantasy that had died. I cried for how foolish I had been. I cried for the life that my child was going to have. I cried until I had no tears left.

  I buried my head in my lap, taking deep breaths. My head was pounding, and I reached into my bag for my bottle of water. I drank a quarter of it, knowing I would have to keep it reserved unless I could find a stream or river. When I was finally in control of my faculties, I grabbed my knife and stood up, steadying myself against the tree.

  Which direction had I come from? It was so dark now, and my flame was flickering in the wind and rain. When had it begun to rain? I had stumbled for the last three or four feet, and I had no idea which direction I had pushed through. I looked around, but everything looked the same, sheets of rain and dark shadows, tall trees making me feel dizzy.

  I was completely lost. Any hope I had of reaching the next town by morning was gone. I would have to wait until the sun rose and I had a clearer view of the path I had carved through the trees. My best hope was to set up some sort of camp under the cover of a tree. My eyes strained through the darkness to find a tree with good cover. I finally set my sights on one a little ways ahead with dry dirt underneath it. I settled in, thick and heavy branches overhead protecting me from the rain, but not so much the wind. I had to adjust myself so the trunk of the tree blocked it out.

  I hadn’t brought a blanket, and that was a mistake on my part. My wool coat was soaked with rain and heavy, making me more cold than warm. I curled up again with my knees to my chest, just appreciating being as dry as possible.

  Through the howl of the wind, I heard a noise. Thankful I had picked up my knife, I brandished it in front of me as I stood, ready to face whatever was coming for me.

  Chapter Twenty–Six

  Relief flooded my system when my wolf came into view. I sank down to the forest floor, resting my head against the tree trunk and breathed.

  “Oh, it’s you,” I said. “Hello.”

  He trotted over to me and sat down. He cocked his head at me as I sniffled. I reached my hand out and petted his fur. It was damp, but comforting nonetheless.

  “I’m so thankful you’re here,” I said. “I’m afraid I’m lost.”

  He nuzzled me, then licked my face. Despite my situation, I could’t help but smile.

  “Thank you. Do you think you can guide me out of here?”

  He looked at me, then glanced at the storm raging just a few feet away. I nodded.

  “Right. When this clears up then.”

  I pulled my hand from him and wrapped my arms around my legs, pulling myself into as tight a ball as possible, trying to conserve my body heat. I was shivering uncontrollably now, my hands like ice. The wet and the cold were starting to get to me, and my teeth chattered. If I made it out of here alive, I would surely have a cold and be bedridden all over again. That was the last thing I needed, especially as a woman on the run. I dug into my bag and took another drink of water.

  “Perhaps we’ll look for some water, as well?” I asked. Just in case, I only drank a little, trying to conserve it as best as I could. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. I stuffed the bottle back in my bag and pulled my coat sleeves over my hands, trying to keep them as warm as possible. I wished I could take off my wet coat, but that would leave me exposed to the wind and the chill. I pulled myself in tighter, trying to conserve warmth.

  The wolf curled up next to me. Despite the rain he was shockingly warm, and it was a welcome feeling. He pressed his body against mine, practically on my lap. Slowly his warmth spread over me, and though I was still chilly, I had stopped shivering. I relaxed my arms, stretching out the tight muscles, and reached my hand over to rest on his neck again. He made a small sound, a mix of a whine and a noise of satisfaction. I smiled at him.

  “I’ve missed you the last few weeks,” I told him. “Where have you been? Although, I suppose I haven’t been out much. I was very sick, you see. I’m feeling better now, though I’ll surely have a cold tomorrow.”

  He rested his head on my lap, looking up at me with wide eyes. I sat there with my head back against the tree, looking out at the storm. From where I sat, it was impossible to see how far the cloud coverage stretched. I could be here for another hour, or for another day. There was no telling. I sighed, and the wolf glanced at me, almost questioning.

  “I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing out here,” I sighed. “It’s a long story.”

  He kept looking at me, cocking his head to the side. I knew it was stilly to keep talking; he wouldn’t understand any of it, but it was cathartic. I reached into my bag and pulled out the bread, using my knife to cut off a small section. I broke a piece off and held it out to him.

  “Would you like some?”

  He rested his head up on his paws, looking up at me, not interested in my food.

  I took a bite, and when I was done swallowing, I looked back at him. His eyes were still on me, searching to make sure I was still all right. I scratched him behind his ears.

  “I came here at the lowest point in my life,” I started. “My father had just died, and I didn’t know how I was going to survive. He had no money to leave me. I was evicted from our house, and my belongings were stolen. I was giving serious consideration to selling myself on the streets just to make enough to eat.”

  I glanced down at him. For some reason, I expected him to have a look of judgment on his face, although what that would look like in a wolf I had no idea. Instead his face hadn’t changed. His eyes were still watching mine.

  “Annabelle found me, and asked me to come here. She said the duke was looking for help. As it turns out, he was looking for a wife. We knew each other as children, and he knew I was desperate, so he chose me. Things were a little tense at first, but then I got pregnant, and I thought things would be all right. Then his brother came into town, and that’s when everything changed.”

  I sniffled, and realized that I was crying. The wolf sat up and licked the tears off my face, then licked me a few more times for good measure. I stroked his fur.

  “His brother tried to kill me. First he attacked me, then he poisoned me, and I was sick for days. I thought I was going to die. I didn’t want to say anything to Jasper at first, because I would do anything to have family that was still alive. I didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t reconcile. After I discovered I had been poisoned, though, I had to say something. I could have lost the baby. He could have hurt someone else after me. I didn’t have a choice. When Seth found out, he tried to stab me.”

  I lifted open my jacket and showed him the place on my dress where the blood had soaked in. He whined at me.

  “It looks worse than it is, I think. I haven’t been able to check it since I left the house. It’s not very deep, but it does sting a little. Jasper stopped him, and I thought I was saved.”

  I shook my head. “I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have listened in, but I was curious what Jasper would say and how Seth would defend himself. That’s when I found out.”

  The wolf gazed at me, waiting for me to continue.

  “I’m not clear on why, but if Jasper doesn’t have an heir by the time he turns thirty, he loses his position. It seems arbitrary and silly to me, but apparently, that’s their law. At least, according to Seth. Jasper didn’t try to deny it. Jasper only married me because we were both in a desperate situation. He knew I would accept his proposal. He knew I was naive. He only wanted to get married so I could get pregnant and he could keep his position. I was nothing more than a pawn to him. He never loved me.”

  The emotions welled up in my chest as I said that last sentence, and I buried my head in my hands. I cried for a long time. When I finally looked up, the wolf was still there. Again, he licked away my tears, and I wrapped my arms around his ne
ck, pulling him in for a long hug.

  “I wish it was this easy to talk to Jasper,” I sighed. “Maybe then he would have fallen in love with me anyway, and we could still be happy.”

  I laughed bitterly. “You might know him, actually. It seems that he and his brother are werewolves.”

  It was the first time I had said the word out loud, even the first time I had really thought it. I said it again. “Werewolves. I married a werewolf. Werewolves are real.”

  I looked at the wolf. “Seth is a deep black. I don’t know if you’ve met him before. Quite a horrible person. Wolf. Werewolf. Can you communicate with them, with werewolves? Do they speak wolf?”

  I sighed. “I sound insane. If anyone were to stumble upon me here, they’d send me to the mental hospital straight away. Perhaps I deserve to be there if I was dumb enough to be taken in by all of this.”

  The wolf nuzzled me, and I knew he was just trying to comfort me. He didn’t seem at all surprised about the werewolves. Perhaps he did know them after all.

  “I don’t know what Jasper’s werewolf form looks like. I only saw his shadow as he transformed. It seems to be a gruesome process. It looks terribly painful. I wonder how often they go through it?”

  I was mostly musing to myself now, since it was a question the wolf couldn’t really answer.

  “Their teeth all fall out. I bet they save a fortune at the dentist.”

  I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. That was a good sign. If I could find humor, even a little bit, perhaps I wasn’t completely lost after all. I let myself a laugh a little longer, and the wolf sat back and watched me, head cocked to the side, confused. Finally, he came over and licked my face, not to get rid of tears, but in happiness.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” I sighed. “You’ve really made me feel quite better. It helps that you’re warm. You’ll get me out of here, right?”

  He nuzzled me.

  My body had lightened, being able to vent to someone else, even if that someone wasn’t able to talk back. Yes, things were bleak for me, but at least I had been able to get my story out in a coherent narrative.