WithHerCraving (12 page)

I’ll use your gift, sire
, she thought, and stared at
the trees.

She wasn’t sure why but it seemed logical to start with a
small tree. Focusing on it did nothing. Her eyes began burning from staring and
not blinking but the tree didn’t move. Her sire and mother had howled about the
Malta pack leader finding something inside. What was inside her brain?

Katrin lay down, still watching her tree. Maybe
determination, or willing it with her thoughts would do it. Frustrated, she
leapt to her feet, barking her inabilities to use the part of her that, so far,
had only brought her trouble.

I’m going to make this work. Half of me is not bad. It’s
not!

Looking away from the tree for the first time, she searched
her mind. It wasn’t easy trying to separate the part of her that thought about
things around her, about everything she smelled, about those she cared for,
from a deeper part of her mind. Moving beyond everything that affected her
actions and reactions, she dwelt on the basic, most raw part of who she was.

It took cleansing her mind of her life. Katrin no longer
focused on using a gift to help others. She wouldn’t think about how doing this
might make life better. Putting all worries, all problems, all matters of her
life to the side, she once again opened her eyes.

Little tree, you will move.

When its leaves started swaying, as if a wind blew through
it, she didn’t leap with excitement. Katrin remained calm. Her mind was clear.
The tree leaned away from the others. She jumped when a loud rumble,
simultaneous with it uprooting from the ground, made her jump.

Katrin barked, no longer able to contain her excitement. She
leapt up and wagged her tail when the young tree crashed to the ground.

By the time the sun rested on the horizon, barely bright
through clouds that turned hazy with dawn, Katrin had rested branches she’d
knocked to the ground with the gift, cut to size with her teeth, then lifted
with her mouth over her walls. Every muscle hurt when she walked over to the
saddlebags McAllister’s mate had shoved at her when she’d run back into his
den. Jarvis’ words, growled at her with such a strong smell of determination,
had still been ringing in her ears when Heather had surprised her with supplies
to help while on the run.

Katrin let the change take place. Through the night she’d
done all she had been capable of doing to exhaust the pain from her heart. The
den was necessary if it would take Jarvis time before he could run from Prince
George. No matter how hard she had worked to convince herself there was no
reason to worry about whether he’d show up or not, as her body changed her
heart constricted.

Human emotions returned. Her vision paled. Her hearing
dimmed. Fur receded on her body and her hide softened until her human flesh
flinched against the harsh environment. Katrin barely made it to a standing
position before crashing forward, her human body shivering and aching fiercely
from incredibly sore muscles.

It hurt to unzip the first saddlebag. There was a sleeping
bag stuffed inside. Katrin unrolled it and wrapped it around her. She was so
damn cold.

“Unzip,” she complained to the sleeping bag, her first word
after the change slightly garbled.

Not that she cared. No one heard her. Her fingers were numb,
yet burned when she tugged at the difficult zipper. Her one-word command had
been sufficient to make the zipper flow down the teeth until the sleeping bag
lay open.

“Shit,” she whispered and her teeth began chattering.

Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. There had
been plenty of times when she’d been frustrated, pissed as hell even, and
things hadn’t obeyed her command simply because she’d willed it. Katrin must
have woken some dormant part of herself when she’d witnessed Jarvis and
McAllister fighting. Whatever had happened inside her, it wasn’t turning off.
She just prayed she’d be able to control her sire’s gift.

Katrin climbed into the sleeping bag but then pulled out her
clothes. She shoved clothes into the bag and almost rolled over pulling on
jeans, not bothering with underwear. She found socks, boots, a sweater and
coat. Everything went on.

Finally dressed, she then wrapped the sleeping bag around
her shoulders over her coat, and with the saddlebags now holding only Jarvis’
clothes and her underwear, Katrin crawled into her den.

Her sense of smell wasn’t as strong in her human form but
she smelled Jarvis. It brought out fresh pain in her heart. She didn’t care.
Katrin dragged his large sweater out of the bag and pulled it over her head,
over her coat and tugged it down past her waist. Then climbing back into the
sleeping bag, she curled into a ball and tried to relax on the hard ground.

Sleep came to her but so did the tears. Katrin cried for the
mate she’d had for a day. She cried as her reality crashed in around her.
Jarvis would be smart to leave her alone and not run to join her. She was half
Malta werewolf, the most despised breed on the planet.

* * * * *

From the location of the sun, as well as the muddy ground
around her roughly built den, Katrin decided she’d slept almost the entire day
away, and through a rather heavy rainstorm. At least now there were more small
branches and twigs around her on the ground.

Any other time, Katrin might have laughed and possibly even
made fun of McAllister’s human mate for packing sandwiches, fruit and candy
bars in the saddlebags. Werewolves didn’t need a picnic lunch packed for them
on a run. At the moment, wrapped in her sleeping bag and sitting cross-legged
as she stared out of her den, she was incredibly grateful for the food. Not
only were her muscles sore and screaming at her for all the abuse she’d put her
body through the night before, she just wasn’t in the mood to hunt.

Katrin pulled the plastic wrap away from the first sandwich
and took a large bite.

She hummed her approval. It might just have been the best
sandwich she’d ever had in her life. With each bite, she looked out past the
lake toward Prince George as her eyes swelled with tears. The wonderful smell
of the meat between the bread was tarnished from the thick smell of her
sadness.

Katrin wasn’t sure what a broken heart smelled like but she
was pretty sure it was what she breathed in now.

“He’s not coming,” she told herself. At the same time she
contradicted her thought. “So how long should I wait for you, Jarvis?”

More tears fell and at the same time her eyes burned as she
stared in the direction of Prince George. Finishing the sandwich, she crumpled
the plastic and threw it in the saddlebag. Her legs were stiff and hurt when
she straightened them inside the sleeping bag. But she had to move. At the
least, she had to relieve herself.

After walking out from the trees behind her small den,
although she wasn’t sure why she sought privacy when she was so completely
alone, Katrin began stripping out of her layers of clothing. The clouds were
gone and the afternoon sun was warm. She shoved her coat and Jarvis’ sweater
into the saddlebag.

Then walking down to test the water, she decided the only
way to bathe was in her fur. The water was too damn cold to stick any part of
her in it without freezing her ass off.

“It will be cold tonight, too, once the sun goes down. A
fire would be smart.” It hurt thinking she needed to decide how long she’d stay
here. Soon, twenty-four hours would have passed. “Ample time for him to have
dealt with whatever the assholes in that pack would have dished out,” she
insisted. “And it didn’t take more than a couple hours to run here.”

Her heart couldn’t hurt any more than it already did. So
pointing out to herself this time that he wasn’t coming didn’t cause any more
pain. She was already maxed out in that department.

Katrin gathered firewood, searching for dry branches then
tossing them toward her makeshift den. Where the night before her work in
designing and building the den had been meticulous, now her heart wasn’t in the
job.

Why did it matter if she had heat from a fire or not? She
would be miserable sleeping in that sleeping bag again, and a fire wouldn’t
make the ground more comfortable. Although the nicest bed there was wouldn’t
make it any easier to sleep. Her heart was so swollen. It was impossible not to
think of Jarvis no matter what she did or how she tried to convert her
thoughts. Her chest seemed to have constricted around her heart, making the
pain even more acute.

Katrin walked up to the pile of firewood she’d gathered and
threw the branch in her hand down. “You stink so badly of self-pity that any
werewolf who did run this way would veer hard to avoid you. Stupid bitch, what
are you doing?”

She stared at the den she’d made, then at the firewood on
the ground.

“No!” she yelled. Then again, louder. “No!”

Katrin arched her back, let her tangled hair fall behind her
shoulders and screamed at the sky. “No!”

Oddly enough it helped, at least a bit. There were choices.
She wasn’t tethered to this den or this lake. Her littermates had run south to
America. There was a sanctuary run by owls. Katrin wasn’t sure of its exact
location, or even how far of a run it would be—days probably. But Katrin could
sniff them out. Leisa and Magda wouldn’t turn her out if she ran to them.

“Or,” she said, leaving the pile of wood and turning in the
direction of Prince George. “Maybe I should sniff you out. I know it’s
dangerous. But you’re worth it. I’m not running anywhere without you, Jarvis
Alger.” Suddenly her heart felt a lot lighter.

“I’m sick of waiting,” Jarvis snarled, glaring at his
littermate.

Jaeger hurled the end of the log he’d lifted, sending it
rolling toward the work truck. “Then fucking leave,” he yelled. “You stink of
outrage and I’m sick of your bitching. Go find your God damn female.”

Jarvis lunged, hitting his littermate square in the jaw.
“I’ll show you some fucking outrage,” he yelled. “She’s been waiting for me for
over a day now and I’m not leaving her out in the middle of nowhere any
longer.”

Jaeger stumbled backward, lost his footing and went down on
one knee. He glared at Jarvis, his eyes silver with anger as he slowly stood.

“I said go,” he seethed, his teeth clenched. He rubbed his
jaw. “I’m sick of being around your smelly tail anyway.”

Jarvis watched his littermate rub his jaw and knew Jaeger
wanted to take a swing. “We can wait for you at that lake,” he offered, some of
his anger receding.

It had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, telling Katrin
to run without him. After she’d left, her scent still drifted through the rooms
in McAllister’s den, especially upstairs when he’d made sure everything that belonged
to him or Katrin was cleared out of their place. He never wanted to step foot
in that den again.

“Do whatever the fuck you want,” Jaeger growled, his scent
spicy with anger. He walked over to the log he’d been dragging to the work
truck when Jarvis first found him and picked one end of it up. He roared loudly
when he hurled the end of it toward the back of the truck.

“Why isn’t someone working with you?” Jarvis asked, glancing
around before hurrying to help his littermate lift the heavy log into the back
of the truck. It was half full. “You’d have this truck full if another male was
out here.”

“Punishment, I guess,” he grunted and walked away from
Jarvis.

Jarvis kept up with Jaeger easily when his littermate walked
into the trees, where a previous crew had left the rest of the logs for
Jaeger’s crew to pick up. Except apparently Jaeger was a crew of one.

“I’m not leaving without you,” Jarvis said, lifting one end
of a log as his littermate lifted the other end. “You are all the litter I
have.”

Jaeger grunted but said nothing as they hurled the log into
the truck and headed into the woods for the next one.

“But I can’t leave Katrin sitting at the lake with no
protection.”

“From the howling I hear, she can protect herself,” Jaeger
grunted.

“That does it,” Jarvis roared and threw down his end of the
log. “Not you too!”

“Did she really throw you and McAllister away from each
other without touching either of you?”

Jarvis stared at his littermate, then finally sighed. “Yes,”
he grunted.

Jaeger lowered his end of the log. “Damn, Cariboo,” he
muttered.

“She was protecting me.”

Jaeger smiled slowly. “That smells so sweet. You have a
female who will protect you from all the dangerous predators out there,” he
cooed.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jarvis snarled, and reached down to pick
up his end of the log. “Look around you. Katrin needs a hell of a lot of
protection, especially now.”

“Think about it, Jarvis. If you mate with her, you’ll be
running for the rest of your life.”

“No. We won’t. If we have to return to the mountains, we
will.” Jarvis thought about his words as he howled them. And he realized he
meant what he said. He didn’t want to lose Katrin, no matter what. “Life was
pretty damn good running in the mountains. Katrin’s litter ran in the mountains
too. We could make a good life there.”

“Might be true,” Jaeger grumbled and lifted his end of the
log. He started forward as Jarvis walked backward. “Only problem is you had her
run away from the mountains, not toward them.”

Jarvis ignored Jaeger. Life with Katrin in the mountains
would work. No one would bother them. Katrin wouldn’t have to worry if her
tainted blood came forward every now and then.

“Drop the log,” Jaeger ordered, his tone suddenly harsh.

“Why? What?” Jarvis had a good grip on the log and his
footing was stable. “I can help you get this loaded in no time.”

Jaeger gestured with a nod. “Toubec,” he explained.

Jarvis growled and dropped the log. He’d thought if he
helped his littermate finish his day out in good time, he might be able to
convince Jaeger to go to Toubec and get the pay due him. Then they would run
together, get Katrin, and seek out a life where all of them could run free
without inhibitions. The humans might try hunting them in the mountains, but
possibly they could live with that. And if not, maybe they would build a den in
the mountains south of them in the United States. There were endless
possibilities they could sniff out.

“He been coming out this way since I left his ranch?”

“Nope.” Jaeger strolled past Jarvis to the clearing. He
stood with his back to Jarvis as Toubec’s nice new truck bounded up the hill.

If Jarvis turned now and ran into the woods, chances were
Toubec wouldn’t pick up on his scent once he got out of his truck. It had been
brought up during the brief time he had lived here as to how Toubec would
personally chase a werewolf off his land if they didn’t live and work on his
ranch. Jarvis wasn’t too concerned about Jaeger’s job security.

They had fought over how living on this ranch, working for
another Cariboo, and having the comfort of running free without worrying about
predators would tame a werewolf. Jaeger had howled the loudest about not liking
it here. It had been Jarvis who had growled about how the two of them should be
grateful to have it so good on the ranch.

Jarvis jumped over the log the two of them had dropped and
followed his littermate into the clearing. No, he wouldn’t run and hide. But if
one more werewolf smelled righteous around him or gave him a judgmental growl
over his decision to run with Katrin, he’d kick their fucking tail so hard they
wouldn’t be able to wag it for a month. Even if he was on their land.

Katrin had lived on the Toubec ranch, in Toubec’s den. She
had driven their trucks, run errands for them. They wouldn’t let her run
without an escort, kept her under lock and key to protect her from rogue single
males. They’d honored her as a single female under their protection, in spite
of Katrin not liking it.

Those pompous
lunewulf
in Prince George hadn’t
smelled anything wrong with her. But the second someone howled Malta werewolf,
suddenly the pack turned against her. Their pack leader pulling into
McAllister’s den just in time to witness McAllister and him being thrown
backward from each other by some “invisibleforce” hadn’t helped
matters.

Jarvis was shaken by that incident. Damn, it was the most
bizarre thing he’d ever experienced. He’d had no control. There hadn’t been
time to react. And under different circumstances he would have bared his teeth
and roared in fury over Katrin doing something like that to him. Katrin’s
expression, her smell of fear and panic, were burned into his memory, as was
the humiliation of landing on his ass. She hadn’t had time to explain but it
was clear by her scent that she had reacted impulsively. They would definitely
be better off living in isolation if Katrin didn’t have control over the Malta
blood coursing her veins.

Toubec parked behind the work truck Jaeger had been loading.
Jarvis shook off his sullen mood and put his emotions in check. The large
Cariboo got out of his truck and sniffed the air, picking up on each male’s
scent and determining his current mood. Jarvis wasn’t surprised. He’d bet his
right nut the male came out here to see if Jarvis was with Jaeger, and what
they might be plotting.

“You working for me again, Jarvis?” Toubec asked with a
sneer on his face.

The large male stopped when he was just a few feet away from
both of them. He rested a boot on a large rock, leaning his weight and
squinting as he looked around at the sprawling meadow and dense trees behind
them.

“Heard some howling that you might be out here,” he grunted,
still focusing on their surroundings.

“I’ve only been out here a few minutes, Toubec. Sounds like
you should worry about the Cariboo out here not working and instead howling worse
than a bunch of old bitches.”

Toubec’s sneer looked as if it turned into a smile. “Maybe I
should.”

He took his time once again searching their surroundings,
sniffing the air. Jarvis did the same. The rain the night before had brought
down the temperatures. Jarvis had pictured Katrin curled up somewhere, staying
dry during the night’s storm. He’d ached to run after her, but had been torn
over leaving without his littermate.

Were they in the mountains, a day like today would be prime
for hunting. With cool temperatures and everything fresh, sniffing out prey
would be easy and fun. They weren’t in the mountains, though. Nothing about
today would be easy or fun.

The second Toubec turned his focus on Jarvis, he snapped to
attention, once again reigning in his emotions.

“Why are you here?” Toubec asked.

“I’m here so my littermate can run with me.” Jarvis didn’t
see any reason to lie to the older male.

“We have a policy that was set up years back to keep
werewolves from drifting in and out. All employees are only paid at the end of
the week.” Toubec rubbed his scar-puckered hand over his head. “My mate can get
quite a temper when payroll annoys her. Simone made an exception for you
because she worried about your female. I’ll see what I can do about Jaeger.”

“And is she still worried about her?” Jarvis demanded. He
was pretty sure the entire pack would have heard the howlings about his mate
sending two grown males flying without touching them.

Toubec rested his hand on his head. “Say what you mean,
werewolf.”

Jarvis never had a problem howling what he meant. He ignored
the side-glance Jaeger gave him and how his littermate suddenly smelled a bit
apprehensive. If Toubec noticed, he ignored Jaeger too. His attention was
riveted on Jarvis.

“Katrin never harmed you, or your den, but you’re both damn
glad you don’t have a Malta werewolf on your property anymore.”

“That female killed one of the males working my ranch, a
male who’d been here over a year,” Toubec growled. The larger Cariboo squared
off and faced Jarvis and Jaeger. “After helping with the death ceremony, my
mate confronted Katrin about killing the male,” Toubec seethed. His eyes were
silver when he lowered his hand and fisted both at his sides. “Your mate, and I
use that term lightly since I heard she howled it unceremoniously outside a
motel to protect your hide, got so mad she crushed a coffee cup. She then
dishonored the dead by accusing him of rape. Yet the day she returned after
killing him she didn’t smell of rape. There are plenty of witnesses so think
carefully before you start howling accusations.”

“She was being chased by four males,” Jaeger roared, jumping
in front of Jarvis and moving fast until he was face-to-face with Toubec.
Jaeger pointed at the old work truck that he’d been loading. “We sat in that
truck and watched the whole fucking thing. They chased her into the meadow. We
thought for sure we were about ready to witness a gang-rape.”

Toubec stepped around Jaeger and snarled at Jarvis. “So
after witnessing proof she was a Malta werewolf, instead of howling this truth
to me, you instead start fucking her?”

Jarvis might have leaped. He was too wound up, too ready to
release his outrage on this pack for how they’d banished Katrin. And although
he hated to admit it, he was mad at himself for letting her leave—and for not
immediately running with her. Now he needed to defend her honor and wait for
his littermate, so among the three of them they would have money to relocate.

Instead of pouncing on Toubec, who let out a roar in
anticipation, all three of them spun around at the sound of someone in the
trees behind them. Jarvis picked up on the foul odor of a werewolf who
desperately needed to bathe. He then spotted the Cariboo. He appeared from
behind several trees, and was a lot closer than Jarvis first realized.

“I saw that little bitch attack,” the scruffy-looking
Cariboo grunted. He was puckered with scars on nearly every part of his exposed
body. The flannel shirt and old jeans he wore looked as if they had molded and
become part of the male’s body quite some time ago. “She sent the males flying.
Heard she did it again in front of the
lunewulf
pack leader.” The male
sneered, showing off a mouth full of dark holes where teeth used to be. “Ran
the bitch out of the territory.”

Jarvis stalked over to the old male and grabbed the worn-out
collar on his shirt. Without so much as a growl, he dragged the Cariboo away
from the trees and almost threw him at Toubec.

“Say that again, you fucking waste of Cariboo flesh,” Jarvis
roared. “Let everyone smell your God damn lies!”

“I’m telling the truth,” the old Cariboo wailed. “She
attacked and killed that male.”

The battle-worn male had some fight left in him. Jarvis’
adrenaline soared though. He grabbed the male and began shaking him like a rag
doll. The Cariboo stunk but Jarvis was determined to make his lies smell more.

“Let go of him,” Toubec demanded.

Jarvis ignored him. “Did she send any of those males
flying?”

“Were the males chasing her across the meadow?” Jaeger
demanded. His anger was as spicy-smelling as Jarvis’.

“She wasn’t running that fast. She wanted it. Only reason a
female runs alone,” the old Cariboo insisted.

“She thought she was safe running on the ranch,” Jarvis
howled. “Answer the question, old male,” he seethed. “Did she send any male flying
through the air?”

“That little female turned and attacked.”

“She attacked because she was trying to save her hide,”
Jarvis hissed, and picked the male up by the back of his shirt.