Chapter Four
How long had he lain awake, thinking about the beautiful wolf in his bed? How many times had he fed the fire in the night? He wasn’t sure when he’d finally fallen asleep, though the pinks and oranges of dawn had lit the room in a pale glow. Now past midday, he needed to get moving. Powell sat up and pushed the blanket away. She was exactly what he liked in a woman. A little sassy, with a sense of humor to match his own.
And she was his mate.
Dammit.
He didn’t want a mate. He’d never wanted a mate. Mates were for other bears like Griff and Derek: bears that wanted to settle down and have cubs and a house in the woods with a split-rail fence and flowers growing along the walkway; bears that were much more emotionally equipped to take care of a female and not screw things up—not forget how to love or what to do.
He rubbed his eyes and studied the remains of the fire, the embers glowing like crusted lava with feathers of blue and yellow flame flaring up occasionally. He could whip the fire back into a blaze if he wanted—there were enough coals—but it was still plenty warm in the cabin already. Besides, poking around in the coals would mean breaking his reverie, and he was enjoying the quiet reflection.
Delicate as the fine branches that sprouted from the trees in spring, Olivia had charmed him immediately. Her lips, so pink and wet, begged to be kissed, and he wanted to wrap her hair around his hands and clasp on to her as he moved inside.
I’ve got to stop thinking about her as a lover. She’s a wolf.
As long as his mate remained a daydream, he could handle her. Reality was another thing entirely. The risk was getting daydreams and reality mixed up. If he was honest with himself, he’d admit he needed to feel her in his arms. His very essence ached to protect her, hold her, comfort her. And yes, make love to her.
Muted sunlight reflected off the bright white snow banks into the living room. The sun had definitely climbed to midday, and he needed to get up. He moved to the window and pulled the curtain back to look out. Birds pattered everywhere, enjoying the peanut butter and birdseed logs he’d made for them and set up along the narrow fence that lined the walkway to his porch. Cardinals and a couple of blue jays and tons of little nuthatches and sparrows pecked and bartered over the feast.
Patchy clouds blotched the sky, and snowflakes swirled and danced on a much lighter breeze than the night before. His snow gauge measured twenty inches, but the snow drifted much higher in places and another round of snowfall was expected in the late afternoon, though the gravid clouds of precipitation hadn’t rolled in yet. He dropped the curtain into place.
He loved the way winter hugged the forests and mountains of Deep Creek and brought a peace over the valleys. Most of the bears stayed inside even when awake in the cold weather, but he took long hikes in the fresh air to enjoy the blanket of solitude the cold brought to the park.
Time to wake Olivia. He’d been waiting, hoping the extra rest would help. Her ankle needed to be re-bandaged. The cut was probably already healed, but in case, he’d check it and dress it again if necessary. Maybe the swelling had gone down some, too. He walked carefully to his bedroom and rapped on the door.
No answer.
After calling her and knocking louder with no response, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.
An icy blast burst forth, punching him in the face. The room was still dark, as all the shades were drawn closed. Why the hell was it so cold?
“Olivia.” He used his loudest whisper. He didn’t want to startle her, but something wasn’t right.
He moved closer to the antique bed and reached to tap Oliva on the shoulder. When his hand hit the lump of blankets, the fabric collapsed onto the mattress.
Olivia was gone.
“Dammit!” His yelp was loud enough to be heard in the kitchen. He closed his eyes to breathe through the rage that filled him. Gods, the woman was stubborn as hell.
Worse than he was.
What made her think she could travel in the snow that had washed over the forest overnight? Not only was she blind, her ankle was injured. She’d barely be able to move, much less trek through deep snow on one leg.
Stubborn.
He checked the window. She’d mostly closed it, but that had been her escape route. The window was close to the ground and it would be easy to slip out. Had she gone out in the snow without shoes?
Dammit. He’d slept through her escape.
His bear paced, huffing in frustration. Mate in danger. The urge to shift almost drowned him in nausea. The pull, so strong, to find her and bring her back. Now he understood how Griff had done what he’d done to Evers. Having a mate was nothing to joke about, and a bear would do anything to protect her. Anything.
Mate is life.
After slamming the window shut and locking it, he went into the living room and stripped and dropped his clothes on the floor then headed out the front door, sliding into his bear as he pulled the door closed behind him. He paused on the porch, where the icy chill blasted him as his body shifted.
Breathe.
His bear fought to surface, pushing aside man with a growl that reverberated through his body. Never had his bear been so eager to take charge.
Mate.
Blues and hues of purple swirled in front of his vision as he relaxed and let his body take on its natural bear form. Fur warmed him and long strong legs formed like columns. His head ached with the stretch, and he gnashed his teeth, nipping at the spiraling snowflakes that filled the air. Curved claws raked through frosty air.
A growl sounded from deep in his gut as his eyesight cleared to a precision unmatched by human vision, and his hearing sharpened. A thousand twitters of birdsong rang in his ears, and close by, the pattering of a rabbit heart sped by.
He swung his head left then right, scanning his fence where yard met forest. In some places, snow drifted almost as high as the four-foot posts. He growled and loped off the porch in search of Olivia. She couldn’t have gone far in the deep snow.
He rounded the cabin to the side where his bedroom window perched a few feet off the ground. She’d put on his boots, apparently, and dragged a quilt with her, by the look of the tracks in the snow—though the tracks had filled in a bit, which proved she’d left in the morning. He glanced up at the sky. Gray storm clouds swirled and now covered the sun.
It’d start snowing again soon.
Footprints led to the west, and he hurried to follow them out of his yard and into the deeper part of the forest. He paused to sniff a tatter of his quilt that had caught on a branch and torn off.
Smells of mate.
His bear heart thumped with the sudden rush of blood. He never felt as alive as he did when he was all bear. Snarling, he moved on. He’d find her and bring her home.
The wind whistled as it bore down on the forest, tipping ice-laden branches into graceful curves and crystallized evergreen boughs arced almost to the ground like tunnels of magic. In the dim light, the snow sparkled. As soon as the forest thawed, the trees would spring back upright, tall and majestic.
Resilient.
Mouth open, he panted then paused to sniff the air. No scent of Olivia or any other wolf. Where could she have gone? The footprints into the forest were less defined, and Powell moved more slowly as he tried to track her.
The steel-gray sky began to spit snow, and chunks of ice wedged between the pads of his toes and clumped to his claws. Bears knew better than to be out in this weather for long. Though he had a warm coat, eventually the cold would penetrate to his skin. He shook, sending a shower of loose snow flying in all directions. Everywhere he looked it was white, with interruptions of brown and an occasional green.
No Olivia.
He reared onto his hind legs and scented, again.
Pine. Birds. Some small mammals. And a faint hint of frigid water crashing over smooth boulders in one of Deep Creek’s many streams.
No Olivia. Following the fading tracks was his only option.
He continued onward, unable to get a fix on how long it had been since she passed through the area. The snow came down hard now, no longer light flurrying action. He picked up his pace.
Rage fueled his movements and he growled as he ran. What a dumb thing for her to do. She could easily die of exposure. Hadn’t she learned her lesson when she fell down the embankment? Hell, he would’ve helped her get to town if that’s what she wanted. She didn’t need to feel like she had to do it all herself. She didn’t need to run from him.
Women!
This type of behavior was the exact reason he had never wanted a woman of his own. Or, if he listened to how Griff or Derek described it, a woman would own him, regardless of what he thought. Sure, he’d still protect her and take care of her, but her wish was always the man’s command. His bear snorted. Either way, it was too much trouble.
He didn’t need the stress.
The fur down his back bristled. No, he was a single bear and intended to stay that way. Just because he had met his mate didn’t mean he had to marry her. Besides, she was a wolf and didn’t seem to have any clue that he was her mate.
Maybe it didn’t work that way.
Maybe he was wrong.
Maybe wolves didn’t know who their mate was at all. Olivia had shown no sign that he was anything more to her than a man who’d rescued her.
And would rescue her again.
He padded on.
He shook his head, his ears flapping as the snow went everywhere. Mate. Whoever came up with the idea of a fated mate needed a head check. Commitment was for the birds. Too much trouble, too much work. He slowed his run, tired and achy, and ready to leave Olivia in the woods and hope someone else came across her.
Serve her right.
A pang of guilt stabbed him the moment the thought crossed his mind.
Of course he wouldn’t dare leave her alone in the snow. He wouldn’t leave anyone to die, much less Olivia. He’d only known her a day, and mate or not, she’d consumed about every waking thought and had walked in his dreams.
His ears pricked.
Hey, what was that?
A red round object peeped from beside a large elm tree ahead, and Powell slowed to check. Maybe a woodpecker. Whatever it was, it stuck out like a stop sign in the white snow. No, it was something that he’d seen Olivia wearing—her scarf! She must’ve limped into the living room to get it before she left. Her coat must not have been dry since she had left it behind.
Or she didn’t want him to notice it was gone.
Sure enough, it was her. She leaned against the tree, the quilt wrapped around her and a pair of his boots bulky and loose on her feet. He picked up his pace and rushed to her. Why the hell was she in human form? She hadn’t shifted into wolf—and she could’ve frozen to death because of it.
He nosed her in the side.
She screamed.
Dammit! He’d startled her.
He’d forgotten she couldn’t see. He nudged her again. How scary to be in the woods alone, cold, and lost—and not be able to see. He couldn’t imagine. An all-encompassing urge to protect her washed over him.
“Powell?” Her voice weak, shaky. She reached for him, taking his head in her hands. “I’m so glad it’s you.”
He leaned against her, hoping she felt some security in his touch. She trembled with cold. Good thing he’d found her. The quilt was covered in a layer of snow, and the precipitation continued to fall at a steady rate. They needed to get to the cabin.
She climbed on his back, groaning as she moved her leg, and laid her head on him, her arms around his neck, still clutching the quilt. He waited on her to stabilize herself and turned toward home. Shocked that she trusted him to carry her, he headed back to the cabin, careful to balance her and not let her slip and fall. The warmth of her on his back and the slight weight of her body felt right. His bear hummed in approval.
Mate.
The sky had almost completely darkened with clouds, though it was only late afternoon by the time they got back to the cabin, and he eased her onto the porch. She slipped off him and entered the cabin without a word. As he morphed back into his human body, he wondered if she was sneaking out the back door while he shifted. Surely not. She’d seemed genuinely glad to see him. The cold air hit his exposed skin like frozen needles, and he rushed inside to get warm, shutting the door behind him. She wasn’t in the living room. He grabbed his pajama pants off the floor and pulled them on.
Olivia limped out of the bedroom with Nar in her arms.
“I don’t know what to say.” She stroked the cat. Her hair lay around her shoulders and down her back in a mess of wet tangles, and her cloudy eyes stared into oblivion.
He pulled his T-shirt over his head and down over his abdomen. Anger bubbled in his gut, but it was mixed with relief. She could’ve died.
“Sit.”
She felt around and hobbled over to the couch then sat. Nar lay beside her, and she pulled the blanket over her legs. “I thought I was healed enough. I could walk, somewhat.”
“Did you think so?” He poked at the embers and added some small wood and sticks. “Because I thought it was pretty obvious that you weren’t ready. It’s a long walk to Oakwood, and correct me if I’m wrong, you don’t know how to get there from here.”
She didn’t respond.
He jabbed the tool at the embers, sending sparks up the chimney. For someone who seemed so damn smart, she had done something pretty stupid. Twice in two days.
Nar hopped up onto the hearth and swished his tail, eyes questioning the anger in Powell’s voice.
“Meow?”
“Yes, I’m working on it.” He petted the cat on the head then scratched him behind the ears. “It’ll be hot in here soon.”
“Working on what?” Olivia asked.
He looked back to her. She’d pulled the blanket up to her chin, shivering. It was a wonder she hadn’t caught a cold by now. Or gotten frostbite. If she’d been human, she would’ve, for sure.
Being a shifter had saved her life.
“Building a warmer fire.” He grabbed the last log off the hearth, a small piece of wood only about two inches in diameter. “I need to get more wood off the porch. We’re out in here. It’s starting to get dark, so I want to have enough for the night in case the snow piles up more.”
“I’m sorry for dragging you out in the cold. I didn’t expect you to come after me.”
He sighed and put his hands on his hips.
Seriously?
“Of course I’m going to come after you. I’m not going to let you freeze to death.” He set the log on the fire with the tongs, then moved to sit beside Olivia on the couch. “But I don’t understand why you felt like you had to sneak out.”
She shrugged but said nothing.
“Why can’t you wait a couple days? I’ll take you to Oakwood. And why didn’t you shift into a wolf to stay warm? Why stay in human form when you could fight the elements so much better as wolf?”
She turned her face away. “It’s a long story.”
She’d tensed up and locked down, her knuckles white from tightly grasping her shirt hem.
“I’ve got time. Tell me. It makes no sense why you wouldn’t shift. Unless you thought the wolves could track you more easily? I’ve kind of guessed that you’re running from them.”
She shook her head.
Nar jumped up between them, and Powell petted him till he purred and flopped onto his back. “I think I deserve to know why you left a perfectly warm house and went out into the freezing cold with an injured ankle. Are you psycho? If you are, I’d like to know it.”
She smacked him on the arm and smirked. “No, I’m not crazy.”
“Then why not shift? What reason could you possibly have to go out in the cold by yourself? In a blizzard—blind and injured?”
She pushed her hair behind her ears. “I’ll give you the short version, but you have to promise not to pity me.”
“I promise.” He scooted closer, her scent filling his nostrils and wending through his brain. Pity was the last thing on his mind.
“I’m engaged to Alfred.”
It was as if she’d given him a lobotomy with an ice pick.
“What?” Had he heard her correctly? She was engaged to that scrawny asshole? That red wolf without a conscience? What the hell?
“It’s not by choice,” she added. “The pack thinks it’s what’s best. No one would want me. I’m damaged goods. And Alfred, well, he can have more than one wife since he can take care of more than one and well, they decided I wouldn’t be a burden to him—” Her voice hitched in her throat.
“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of! Isn’t polygamy illegal? Especially forced polygamy?” Anger surged through him, and the desire to rip Alfred’s head off consumed him like a flash flood. He fisted his hands and tamped down the feeling, gritting his teeth so he wouldn’t scare Olivia. “What the hell is damaged about you? You mean because you are blind?”
She nodded. “That’s part of it. There’s another reason.”
“What?”
She squirmed, her chin quivering. What had Alfred done to her? Powell would kill him.
“I can’t shift.” She turned her face to him, her milky gaze full of tears.
“Oh.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks and pulled her to him, her head on his chest. “Why can’t you shift? Did something happen?”
“I’ve never been able to. It’s probably because I’m blind.” She sniffled. “At first, I agreed with the pack about marrying Alfred. I figured I’d be taken care of. But then I heard about his sexual sadism, and I can’t...”
He gripped her arm and took a deep breath. “And you won’t have to. I’ll see to it.”
Not sure whether her inability to shift or her betrothal to Alfred upset him more, he gritted his teeth. No wonder she was scared. Alfred was an asshole.
“But the pack is strong. They’ll find me and drag me back. I won’t have a choice.”
A long, low howl sounded outside and Olivia tensed in his arms.
“Shh. They aren’t close. It’ll be evening soon and they are out hunting, that’s all. They don’t know you’re here, and there’s no reason to think they will find you, especially with the snow piling up and covering scents. I’ll protect you, but you’ve got to trust me and give me the chance to figure out what to do. We’ll handle this together. I need your promise to stay put and let me work up a plan.”
“Okay.” She relaxed into him.
He stroked her hair. “Everything will be okay. We’ll get some dinner and rest.”
A loud buzz sounded followed by a snap—then everything went dark in the cabin except for the orange glow of the fire and the faint light coming in the windows from the setting sun.