Chapter One
Streaks of pain seared through Olivia’s ankle as she slipped on the sharp rock. She bit her lip to stifle a yelp, but a weak moan managed to escape. If she didn’t keep quiet, the rest of the wolves would find her. She was already at great risk in human form since she wasn’t able to shift, but it couldn’t be helped. Never had she wished for the ability more than as she trudged down the path tonight. She batted away the snowflakes freezing on her eyelids.
Being blind hadn’t ever been more dangerous than it was now.
The icy snow gave way underfoot, and she began to slide down the embankment she’d fallen over when she stumbled off the path.
Despite the snow, she’d had to leave the pack.
She grasped for anything within reach that would break her descent, but the slush and ice covered everything in a glaze of slippery wetness she couldn’t hold on to, and she continued to slip down the hill, her ankle twisting loose from the rough rock that had broken her initial fall.
From what she could tell, the rock was more of a boulder, perhaps one that had sheared off recently and left jagged edges more damaging than a serrated steel trap against her skin. Her ankle pulsed as her boot tightened around it, a sure sign of swelling. She’d be lucky if her ankle wasn’t broken.
Arms spread-eagled, she tried to slow down. She whimpered, snow edging under the hem of her coat and damming against her abdomen.
She grabbed at the ground as she slid, her gloves snagging on something twisty and knotted. A root or branch of some sort stuck out from the ground, and she clutched it with both hands, her throbbing ankle now useless as an anchor. Tears burned her cheeks as she dug her other foot into the snow to hold herself steady.
“I had to leave,” she whispered, laying her cheek on the cold snow for a moment of rest. No choice.
Staying with the Green Glen wolves wasn’t an option since Alfred had decided to take her as one of his mates. He’d made the announcement, and no one had spoken up in protest, not even those she called friends. Everyone was afraid of him. He was the cruelest creature she’d ever known and she could never love him, even if he was the last wolf on Earth. He’d threatened to force her to mate, and he meant it. Everyone knew it.
She shuddered.
Blind and lost in a snowstorm with an injured leg was better than being with Alfred. Freezing to death, alone, was better.
A long, low howl sounded in the distance, and icy fear slid up Olivia’s spine and gripped her in frozen panic. She clung to the root tighter, her knuckles aching at the tension.
Alfred.
No mistaking that howl. Part monster, and part...something else, his howl strangled her soul, and made her wolf want to curl into a ball and hide forever. She pushed her hair from her face and listened. How close was he?
And more importantly, how long did she have before he found her? Maybe he would stay on the trails while he looked for her. He’d never believe a blind wolf would dare leave familiar ground. Not that she’d planned to, but the snowstorm had messed up her internal map, and she’d gotten off the path and gone right over an embankment. She adjusted her toehold in the snow. She was stable for the moment, but she needed to come up with a plan.
Alfred howled again, but sounded no closer.
Other howls answered. One, then another, and another. All different, all long and low and piercing. Deferring to him. They sounded out from different areas of the forest, yet converged as they overlapped and echoed through the snowy tree boughs.
They’re searching for me.
And they’d find her on the embankment, as they triangulated her position methodically. Wolves hunted in packs and they always found their prey. They’d drag her back and she’d be Alfred’s forever. Once back at the pack compound, he’d make damn sure she’d never have the chance to escape again—telling everyone it was for her own safety but, in reality, using her blindness to control her.
Alfred took advantage of weakness and used it to gain and maintain control. That went for anyone the wily wolf came in contact with, be it wolf or human or shifter. She’d scented his modus operandi the first time she met him, and it’d grown stronger as he’d matured. His younger brother, Claude, might be the head of the pack in name, but it was Alfred who reigned.
She shivered, more from fear than cold, though the slow seeping chill of her damp clothing pressed against her skin and sent goosebumps racing over her stomach and chest.
She’d be hypothermic soon if she didn’t find shelter and warm up. She almost laughed. She didn’t know where she was or how far she was from Oakwood, so the chances she’d make it to town were slim.
The snowflakes stung as they hit her cheeks and forehead, and the wind tossed her hair across her face. The shivering had become almost rhythmic and her teeth chattered. Her leg ached from holding her body weight on the snowy hill, and her other ankle had gone completely numb.
If only she could shift. Then she could run, despite having one gimpy leg. But that wasn’t meant to be. No, she was going to have to get out of this predicament like a human.
She tried to push herself up with her good leg but couldn’t get traction, and she was growing more tired by the minute. Things could be worse. The wolves weren’t howling, so they weren’t close, and the snow would mask her scent a little.
At least for a while. Eventually, they’d find her. The question was, would she be alive or have frozen to death?
I want to live!
She yanked at the root to readjust her grip and punctuate her feelings. The wood gave way in her hand, pulling loose from the embankment.
With no time to scream, she covered her eyes and let go, hoping she wasn’t about to tumble off a cliff. Her ankle bumped and banged as she rolled, and snow flew in her mouth and nose as her braid slapped her in the face.
She hit the flat ground at the bottom of the hill with a thump, the fresh snow cushioning her fall enough to keep her from getting the breath knocked out of her. On her back, she lay still, listening, her heart slamming against her chest wall as adrenaline flooded her system like a warm cappuccino.
Alive!
She could’ve just as easily slid down a bank and dropped a couple hundred feet to her death. Her moment of gratitude was short-lived. The wolves howled again, the low voices almost lost on the wind or blocked by the cliffs.
Alfred wouldn’t give up. Once he had his mind set on something, he kept at it till he had what he wanted. And he wanted her. She’d gone against his wishes and he’d make her pay.
The snow had picked up, and it bit into her face as it fell faster and the wind whipped it against her. She imagined the flakes as little spears swirling in puffs of air then attacking her bare skin. She had to move before she froze. Willing her legs to move, she lifted them one by one, her injured ankle sending aftershocks of pain up her leg to her thigh.
She sat up, feeling the ground around her body with her hands. Her wet gloves stuck to her palms, and she mashed her fingertips against the ground, trying to figure out where the ground ended and a cliff began.
One wrong move and she could fall to her death. She pulled her hood around her face, the faux fur trim tickling her cheek. The flush of adrenaline was wearing off and the shakes set in.
Do or die moment.
She slid to the right, dragging her bum ankle, which had numbed to a hard block of flesh. Feeling the solid ground again, she inched a bit more. A few more times, and sweat had formed on her back, though she still shook from the chill of wet clothes and falling snow. She tugged her scarf tighter, trying to keep her neck protected from the elements.
Hope I’m going in the right direction. If she could get to the embankment she had tumbled down, she could figure out how to climb it. Moving incrementally, she continued to slide toward what she hoped was the hill. The wind whistled as it swept around the cliffs and through the trees.
The wolves had gone silent.
Her wet pants, soaked through from sitting in the snow, began to stiffen. Warmth filled her legs and she closed her eyes.
The darkness was blacker than usual. She yawned.
She breathed deeply, scenting the pine amongst the snow. Always a peaceful scent, and one that reminded her of her mother. If she were alive, she’d never have allowed Alfred to lay claim on Olivia. She’d have fought him herself if she had to.
So tired.
The shivers and shakes were continuous but she ignored them. The embankment had to be close.
There!
She touched the incline. Steep at the bottom, it would take a lot of energy to haul herself up. And she was exhausted.
It’s not so cold any more.
Was that a wolf howl? Or a bird call? She leaned against the bank and listened to the muted sounds in the snowy forest. The air had warmed. When had it gotten so warm? She could take a little nap before trying to climb the embankment.
Yes, a short nap. A few minutes.
The crunch of heavy footsteps sounded, and Olivia struggled to stay awake, her heart picking up speed at the thought of Alfred.
“You there. What are you doing out here in this blizzard? And all alone at that?”
The voice, a man’s, was commanding and firm.
And not Alfred’s.
“My ankle,” she whispered.
“What?” More footsteps. “You’re injured.”
His voice melted over her like warm honey, and she waited to hear him speak again. She could listen to him forever...she took a long deep breath and the world silenced.
“Oh no you don’t.”
The voice jerked her back into wakefulness. No longer cold, she couldn’t remember why she’d even worried.
“I need to rest for a few minutes.” She curled on her side. “I’m so sleepy.”