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Writing the Wolf: A wolf shifter paranormal romance (Wolves of Crookshollow Book 2) by Steffanie Holmes (17)

Rosa

Evening fell, and we passed Hadrian’s Wall and on into Scotland. A sickly smell rose from the boot of the car, but I was too afraid to ask what it might be.

The towns and cities blurred together. The fear ate away at my composure, and I stopped staring out the window, instead focusing on the back of Angus’ head.

The city lights of Aberdeen spread out before us, a blanket of twinkling comfort. We were heading toward civilisation, people, perhaps another chance of escape …

But no. Angus yanked the wheel hard around, and drove the taxi down a forested road. After a few minutes, the asphalt gave way to a single-lane dirt track. The taxi bounced over the uneven ground, and my head smashed against the roof after one particularly large bump.

This continued for what seemed like hours. Outside the car, all was dark. I noticed a few paths diverging from this main road. Apart from the trees, there were no other landmarks or signs. Even if I managed to escape, I’d never find my way back to the main road.

Angus pulled over and stopped the car, grabbing his knife and directing it at my throat while Robbie got out.

“Where are we?”

Robbie opened my door, and Angus handed him the knife, which he held with a shaking hand beside my throat.

“Home sweet home, Princess.” Angus got out and grabbed me under the arms, lifting me out of the vehicle. “And it looks like we’re the first ones here.”

His grin sent a shiver of terror down my spine.

I shuffled to my feet, grabbing the car door for balance as I looked around. Angus shoved me down a narrow path, and I stumbled around in the dark for several minutes before we emerged in a clearing in the middle of a forest. Moonlight shone from above, illuminating piles of twisted shadows. The place was a dump, littered with broken cars, piles of rubbish, and huge metal drums. Here and there were crude lean-tos – shelters of corrugated iron propped up against stacks of tires. The place looked like something out of Mad Max.

“What is this?” I asked. Angus didn’t reply. Instead, he told Robbie to hold me, and keep his human form. Robbie wrapped his arms around me, pressing the knife to my throat again.

“I’m sorry,” Robbie whispered into my ear. All my good thoughts about him faded away as that cool blade touched my skin.

“Ah, it feels good to be back.” Angus stretched out his arms and transformed. His face elongated and sank into itself, the eyes growing large as his cheeks and nose knitted together to form a snout. His ears grew into points and shifted to the back of his skull. He fell to his knees, his fingers gripping the dirt as his bones snapped and rearranged themselves into a new shape, a terrifying shape.

A huge, snarling wolf.

Angus threw his head back, and howled.

An echo of howls rose up from the trees, answering his call. The sound chilled me to the core. I froze in place, cold in Robbie’s embrace. There was nowhere to run, no way to hide. I was completely surrounded.

“Angus,” Robbie moaned from behind me. Prickly hair sprouted along his arms. “I don’t know how much longer I can—”

His voice cut off with a high-pitch squeal. The knife clattered from his hand, and his arms slipped from around me. I whirled around. Robbie backed away from me, his arms in the air. “Stay away from me,” he groaned. “I can’t—”

I glanced up. Of course, the moon was full. That meant neither Angus nor Robbie could control their shift, nor anything they did in their wolf form. They were acting on instinct alone.

That meant things had just got a hundred times worse for me.

Robbie’s face contorted, his snout extending and his lips curling back into a snarl. He toppled onto his hands and knees, his eyes wide as they stared back at me. “Get away,” he croaked out, before his words turned into a low, mournful howl.

Angus was over at the edge of the clearing, howling into the trees. I raced toward the pile of Angus’ torn clothes, and fished through the remains of his jeans until my hands closed over the taxi’s car keys. I whirled around, and raced for the trail.

A wolf stepped in front of me. Its teeth curled back into a snarl. I stopped short, my heart in my throat. I ducked to the side, but another wolf leapt into my path.

Wolves began to emerge from the trees, their eyes glowing in the moonlight. They circled me, moving in closer, closing all the gaps. Saliva dripped from their teeth, and their mouths pulled back into cruel grins.

There were hundreds of them, all creeping toward me. Everywhere I looked, all I could see were glowing eyes and sharp, pointed teeth.

A huge wolf stepped forward, and the howling suddenly stopped, like someone had flipped a switch.

This wolf was at least twice the size of the others. His coat was a light grey colour, with a black band running along his spine, and black curlicues around his eyes. In any other circumstance, I might have considered him beautiful.

But since he was rising up on his hind legs, row after row of sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight, beautiful was definitely not the adjective he was going to get.

Before my eyes, the giant wolf began to change. Its paws elongated, the sharp claws on each finger contracting, becoming nails. Its bones cracked, jerking as they broke and repaired themselves in new configurations. In the moonlight, it appeared as though its fur melted away, leaving behind a towering, muscled and very naked man, who glared it me with cold, ruthless eyes.

How can he control his shift under the full moon? That must be one powerful werewolf.

“Who the fook is this?” the man boomed. “I told you to bring me Caleb, or is he so afeared of our enemies that he’s turned into a lass?”

Angus stepped forward, between me and the man. He lay down on his stomach, his tail thumping against the dirt. For a few moments, there was no sound. I remembered Caleb telling me wolves communicated telepathically. Great, now I wouldn’t even be able to hear them decide how they were going to kill me.

Several of the wolves turned their heads to each other, panting heavily. It almost looked as though they were discussing Angus’ thoughts. The tall man strode over to Angus, his eyes blazing. I noticed tattoos running down his arms. On his shoulder was a crest depicting a tower, similar to Caleb’s but much more elaborate. The slogan Virtue Mine Honour wrapped around the crest, and across his chest in dark gothic script was the phrase, “Bàs no Beatha.”

It could only be one man – Douglas, Caleb’s stepfather. I stared at the bulging veins in his neck, the arms like tree trunks, the battle-scarred, humourless face. Imagine growing up with that creature as your father.

Douglas strode forward, walking around his son. But he didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned over me, his face inches from mine. I wanted to shy away, but there was nowhere to run, so I stood my ground, glaring back at him with all the ferocity I could muster. He studied my features intently, his dark eyes darting all over my body. I longed to turn away from his scrutiny, but I didn’t dare. He sniffed the air around me, then stuck out his tongue. He licked my cheek, his tongue scraping across my skin. I screwed up my face in disgust, but I didn’t dare pull away. This guy could snap me in half like a twig.

Douglas turned to Angus. He reached up a thick arm. I thought he was going to embrace his son, congratulate him on a good day’s work, but instead he grabbed the wolf by the neck, lifting him off the ground. Angus whimpered as his feet dangled below him. His paws swung in the air, useless.

“You stole his mate from him?” Douglas growled, his face inches from his son’s. Angus’ eyes bugged out, and his tongue loped to the side. “We don’t do that. This woman has already been fated to Caleb. Don’t you ken she ain’t yours to take.”

Angus’ teeth snapped and snarled. He glared at me, but there wasn’t much he could do with Douglas gripping his throat. No other wolf stepped forward to help him, but they all watched the scene with wide, beady eyes.

I could feel the panic rising up within me. The sickening feeling spreading out from my stomach, the uncontrollable shaking starting in my hands. I kept my eyes focused on Angus and Douglas, trying to will away the rising terror. But after a whole day of being in the car with Angus, my nerves were totally shot. I knew any minute now, the panic would overrun me, and then I’d be completely at their mercy.

Angus choked out some whimpers. A couple of wolves in the circle nodded their heads in agreement.

“I don’t care how much you want her. She don’t want you,” Douglas snarled. “Else she wouldn’t be shaking like a fucking leaf.”

Angus whimpered again.

“You can’t have her.” Douglas released his neck. Angus dropped to the ground, letting out a loud whine as he fell hard on his side. He let out a squeak, and lay on his side, licking his paw and rubbing it against his neck where Douglas had held him.

From behind me, I heard another wolf bark. A small wolf darted through the trees, pawing at the ground as it let off a series of low growls. Robbie went over to the wolf and licked his cheek, then barked three times, and the sound was taken up by other wolves in the circle. My blood chilled.

“What’s going on?” I stammered at Douglas. “What are you planning to do to me?”

Douglas rushed forward and grabbed my collar, yanking me toward him. “They tell me your mate is nearly upon us,” he growled.

Caleb.

My whole heart soared. He had come after all, even after everything I’d said to him.

Douglas’ head tilted to the side, as though he were listening to another telepathic message. “He’s brought with him a whole pack. Another wolf, two vulpines, and a bran. A fucking bran. Is that the filthy bird that attacked my Robbie?”

“Your sons kidnapped me against my will. Any damage done is justified.”

“That true?” Douglas’ eyes bore into mine. “Angus says they took you because Caleb wouldn’t come. His own mother has been taken by our enemies, probably tortured, and he wouldn’t come. But now we have you, and here he is with a whole bloody pack ready to fight the family that raised him—”

“Raised him?” I snorted. “Your sons were cruel to him, and you encouraged their cruelty. Yet you seem surprised he left your clan? He has a new family now, one who respects him and cares for him. He doesn’t need you anymore.”

Douglas’ eyes darkened. My stomach twisted. Perhaps that had been the wrong thing to say.

“If my adopted son no longer considers himself part of our clan,” he snarled, directing his words not to me, but to the sky above, “and he condemns his mother to death in the hands of our enemies, then before you all I disown him, and I declare him an enemy of our family. As for his mate, I will support my son’s claim to her.”

I gasped. From his position kneeling at his father’s feet, Angus let out a satisfied howl.

Douglas’ lip curled back. “I’m sure she will, my son, but she’s black. Can’t you find one of your own kind for a mate?”

“What do you think I am, a walrus?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Douglas laughed. The wolves in the circle tossed back their heads and barked.

“Aye, she’s a feisty one, alright. She’ll bring a little colour to our clan.” He slapped his son on the shoulder. “Very well. She is yours, son. No wolf who calls himself a Maclean will desert us for a fucking bran and git away with it.”

The wolves howled their approval. The sound echoed around the clearing, rising like a cone through the trees.

Oh, well that’s just swell.

Douglas’ face contorted, his nose growing long, before shrinking back to normal again. I noticed a layer of fine grey fur had sprouted down his arms. He was now struggling to hold his human form.

“Mark her,” he barked at his son. “Before the traitor arrives.”

Angus rose to his feet, bounding toward me. Robbie leapt in front of him, his teeth bared, but Angus shoved him away. Robbie went sprawling across the clearing, his back slamming into a pile of old tires.

I raised my hands to ward off the blow, but I was too late. Angus’ paws hit my chest, sending me hurtling backwards into the dirt. I scrambled backward, trying to get to my feet, but Angus was too fast. He pinned my shoulders to the ground, his claws digging into my skin. His eyes bore into mine, sparkling with triumph as a thin trail of his spittle dribbled down my cheek.

Angus bent his head. I screamed as he sank his teeth into my shoulder. Searing pain pulsed through my body. Red welts appeared in my eyes.

His teeth tore away my skin, and he tossed his head back and howled. The wolf pack matched his cry, every Maclean howling in unison. It was their howl of triumph. They had me now.

The howls pounded in my ears, a wild, unhinged sound that paralysed me with fear. The pain blotted my vision, and my whole body sank into a black pit. Angus’ howl rose above the rest of his kind, high and triumphant. It was the last sound I heard before my body went numb and the darkness swallowed me up.