Hungry Like a Wolf (26 page)

His right hand flew to his injured left shoulder, feeling the rough texture of gauze beneath his fingertips. Clearly, his mate had stayed with him long enough to bandage his wound, so where was she now? Why had she left? Had she gone for help? That seemed a bit like overkill, given that she would know he’d begin recovering quickly the minute he woke enough to shift.

The still night air shattered under the impact of a Lupine battle cry, at least three—maybe four—males joining together to howl out their intent to kill. What followed was the most bone-chilling sound Logan had ever heard. A single female howled back, her call a lonely symphony of rage and violence and farewell.

Before the last note had sounded, a huge dark shape flung itself through the door of the cabin and into the woods, leaving behind nothing but a splintered panel of wood and a bloodstained bandage, glowing white and black in the silvery light of the moon.

*   *   *

Astonishment failed to overtake Honor when her four challengers stepped forward. Each man wore an identical expression of smirking arrogance, and each one stared at some point south of her face when they stopped a few feet in front of the oak stump to issue their challenge. They had their backs to the fire, but that didn’t keep Honor from reading their expressions.

“I protest your claim, little girl.” Darin spoke first, typically. He was neither the strongest, nor the most dominant male in his little group, but that didn’t stop him from having the biggest mouth. “But I’ve got in mind to feel something a whole lot more interesting than your wrath, baby.”

His leer would have been comical if it hadn’t made Honor long so desperately for a shower. She said nothing, letting her curled lip and rumbling growl speak for her.

“I protest.” Greg Carpenter stepped forward next, followed closely by Richard Maloni, the man whose face she hadn’t seen earlier.

“Me, too,” Maloni added eloquently.

“I protest, bitch.” Peter Scott managed to combine his own leer with what Honor guessed was supposed to be a sneer. The mating of the two expressions ended up looking something like what she pictured on the faces of first-trimester pregnant women who’d been force-fed rancid sauerkraut, then taken for a rough-weather sailing trip.

“Your protests have been acknowledged,” Hamish said, stepping up onto the stump beside his niece. It was the responsibility of the pack elders to ensure that any challenges were heard and settled according to pack law. “As this is an alpha challenge presented to a female claimant, you have the right to a choice of methods. You may select either—”

“We claim the option of the Alpha Mating Rite.” Darin looked at Hamish and grinned with taunting menace. “Don’t waste our time, old man. We’re ready to get down to business. We got bitches to fuck.”

“I hope you don’t mind the cold,” Honor snarled, “because you’ll have to kill me and hump my corpse, Major. I wouldn’t let you near me any other way.”

Darin spat something vicious, but it was drowned out by the growls and barks of the other males. The crowd at the edges of the stone yard had gone eerily silent as the pack awaited the outcome of the challenges.

“Save your energy for the challenge circle,” Hamish snapped. “You all know the parameters of the challenge. An Alpha Mating Rite has been called. Having failed to win the unanimous support of the pack, the unmated female claimant must now accept her strongest male challenger as her mate. There will be no quarter given. If the female is defeated while more than one challenger still stands, the remaining males fight to the surrender or to the death for the right to mate her.

“Do you all understand?”

“I understand that your ass is mine, little girl,” Darin threatened, licking his chops as he stared at her exposed breasts.

“You’ll be dead before you touch it.”

Hamish extended his hand high overhead and raised his voice to be heard over the growing chorus of growls and snarls. “Let the Mating Rite begin!”

His hand dropped, the male challengers surged forward, uttering battle cries, and Honor flung herself into the fray with a fierce howl, shifting in the air like a molten gray nightmare.

Sixteen

The wolves jolted together in midair, two feral shapes made of claws and fangs and fury. The male, a dull, sandy-blond color, outweighed the female by at least thirty pounds, but she drew first blood, sinking her teeth into the meat of his side before they even hit the ground. The blond wolf screamed in pain and anger, landing in a crouch to snarl at his smaller opponent. She licked her chops, then made a loud hacking, gagging noise, as if she had tasted something that turned her stomach.

The male howled and surged forward. The female danced out of his reach and flicked her tail in disdain.

Honor had identified Darin as her attacker immediately. Even if she hadn’t seen his wolf form a hundred times during her life, she would have recognized his stupidity. He had never learned to control his temper, which was one of the reasons she had known she could easily defeat him. When he was angry, what few brain cells he possessed began to shut off like a light switch. He wouldn’t be the one to bring her down.

Quickly, she chanced a look at the other three. All had shifted and begun to spread out, clearly looking to surround her. She knew they would use Darin’s impulsive assault to their advantage, letting him distract her and wear her down until they got themselves into position to attack her from behind. It was sneaky and something less than honorable, but it was a time-honored hunting technique among wolf packs. And it would probably prove to be effective, unless Honor found a way to counter it.

She knew her strengths and weaknesses. She would never match the males for size or power, but she was quick and agile and could move in ways they simply couldn’t. Her best bet would be to stay out of reach and slip under their guard when the opportunity presented itself.

And, of course, to thin the pack.

A single glance had told her that Carpenter was the weakest link. He might have enough brains not to have gone for her immediately like Darin, but he was smaller than the other three, and younger. Inexperienced. He’d never had to fight for his life before. It was an advantage Honor could exploit.

She waited for Darin’s next rush, held her ground until she could all but feel his breath in her face, then twisted to the side and launched herself at Carpenter’s unguarded flank.

He never saw her coming. Her jaws opened, teeth flashing white and deadly, and closed on his near hind leg, slicing through his hamstring and effectively hobbling him. That made one less wolf who could sneak up on her. If he stayed down, he’d heal eventually. He’d probably limp, but he’d heal.

Carpenter was made of stronger stuff than she had reckoned, though. Instead of immediately crumpling to the ground, he howled in pain, but then shifted his weight to his opposite leg and lunged for her.

She felt the graze of his fangs against her shoulder, felt the shock of pain as he opened a slice in her side, and yelped as she threw herself to the side. When he turned to come at her again, though, she was ready. He made the mistake so many men made and headed for her straight-on. Honor braced herself, then dropped into a crouch just before impact and threw back her head. Her jaws clamped around his throat and pulled using his own momentum against him. He was dead before he hit the ground.

A part of Honor mourned. The alpha in her hated to lose even a single member of her pack, but he hadn’t left her a choice. In this moment, it came down to life or death, because Honor would sooner die than allow herself to be condemned to rape and a life mated to her rapist. No female on earth deserved that.

Maloni hit her next. He slammed into her like a professional wrestler, knocking her to the earth and attempting to pin her beneath him. Allowing him to do so would doom her.

Honor squirmed like a freshly caught eel and managed to swing her back end free, giving herself the advantage of leverage. She shook hard and fast, while her rear paws dug into the earth and provided her with something solid to work against. The shaking kept Maloni from getting a good grip on the back of her neck, and bracing her back end meant that the minute he drew back to change his angle of attack, she was able to thrust herself to the side, out of his grasp.

He didn’t let go easily, however. He lashed out with a large paw and caught her on the side of the head.

For a minute, her ear rang on that side, and she stumbled, temporarily off balance. Her eye stung, and when she shook her head, a drop of blood clouded her vision. Maloni’s claws had been out. Honor might as well have engraved an invitation to the others.

Scott sprang forward, growling and snapping, a blur of motion and showy threats. He darted in, then retreated; danced to the side, and leaped forward again. He was trying to herd her. Honor knew what that meant.

She gathered her legs beneath her and jumped, carrying herself over Scott’s head just as she felt the rush of energy attacking from the rear.

Darin missed, his howl of rage echoing through the clearing, but Honor had bigger things to worry about. She had reduced her number of attackers from four to three, which was good for her, but she’d been clumsy, and she’d let herself be injured. Neither the slash on her shoulder or the claw mark on the side of her face was serious, but every wound weakened her, something she couldn’t afford while she remained outnumbered.

She had to be careful.

She knew her chances of living through this weren’t great, but she’d be damned if she didn’t take at least one more of them with her.

*   *   *

Logan had known what that sound meant the instant he heard it. He’d slept the day away while his mate’s pack prepared to slaughter her. The Howl had begun.

He raced through the forest at top speed, ignoring the insistent pain in his left shoulder. He knew he couldn’t cover ground as fast as he normally did, but he also knew the wound would already have begun to heal the minute he shifted. Now, it just had to hold up and help him reach his mate.

The sounds drifting toward him from the direction of the stone yard only served to confirm what that first group of howls had told him; the males had called for an Alpha Mating Rite. Honor currently faced at least three males intent on beating her into submission, raping her, and holding her captive for the rest of her life.

Logan would burn down this entire forest before he allowed that to happen.

He didn’t know these woods as well as a native, but the sounds of the battle currently being waged in the stone yard allowed him to ignore the trails and paths he occasionally crossed and move through the trees straight toward the ruckus. He didn’t have to waste time trying to remember the way, because the sound of his mate fighting for her life guided him like a satellite readout exactly where he needed to go.

He knew he was getting close to the stone yard not just from the volume of the battle sounds, but because he could begin to see the glow of firelight illuminating the space between the tree trunks. When he could finally see into the clearing of the ceremonial meeting place, his instincts urged him not to hesitate. His wolf smelled blood, some of it his mate’s blood, and it wanted death.

The man inside him, however, hauled hard on the reins of his self-control and urged him to assess the situation. The scent of Honor’s blood nearly disappeared under a much larger volume belonging to someone else. His mate might be injured, but it didn’t smell like it was serious. Someone else smelled like he was dead.

A surge of pride rushed through him, and Logan paused, hidden in the underbrush, to catch his breath. He could see into the clearing from here, and while tree trunks and branches obscured some of the view, he could make out enough to know that the situation looked just as he’d feared. His mate was surrounded by three much larger males and was holding them off like a modern-day Boadicea.

Then she maneuvered to the side and he caught a glimpse of the bloody wound on her shoulder. His control nearly snapped like a cheap pencil. Only the sight of a bloody lump of fur and flesh lying still a few feet away from her kept him sane. He hoped that was the asshole who had dared to lay a finger on Logan’s mate. That made four initial challengers, and Honor had already killed one.

That’s my girl.

His girl circled her attackers warily. She tried to keep all of them in sight, but with three against one, it was too easy for them to split up and divide her focus. While he watched, the gray one began to harry her, like a terrier with a rat, distracting her from the blond wolf behind her, who was preparing to pounce.

Before he could move, Honor detected the trap and sprang forward, which the gray wolf had not been expecting. She soared over his head, evading the blond’s attack and making him howl with rage. He and a wolf with dark, sooty fur converged on her like buzzards.

Logan had seen enough.

Damn the rules and damn tradition and damn the male chauvinists who had made them. That was Logan’s mate, and he would not stand by and watch her be destroyed.

He burst through the trees in a dark blur of motion, headed straight toward the closest of Honor’s challengers, the gray male she’d left behind, confused. Logan had the element of surprise on his side, and within a fraction of a second, he also had the back of the gray wolf’s neck between his teeth. Biting down powerfully and shaking like a wet dog, he broke the male’s neck with a snap and an echoing growl.

There went the element of surprise.

Actually, it accomplished one more thing; it drew the attention of every single Lupine in the clearing, including Honor’s two attackers. She used their distraction to dodge their concerted attack and put some distance between them.

Logan moved immediately to her side and nuzzled her gently. She answered his whine with a quick swipe of her tongue. She had bled, but her wounds weren’t serious. She would be fine.

But the battle wasn’t over.

A few feet away, the blond wolf began to twitch and grunt, a prelude to him rising on his back legs, growing four and a half feet, and taking the shape of the wolf-man of Hollywood legend. He had shifted into his were form, one that provided him with the basic, guttural power of speech.