Authors: Caryn Moya Block
A small path meandered higher into the mountains. But surely she wouldn't be so foolish to keep going in this storm. What was she running from that would force her to go on? Jumping over the rock wall, Anton followed her. He would lose her scent and then catch it again farther on.
He found where she fell in the mud. The prints from her knees and the scrambling prints of her shoes and hands were easy to read. Anton shook with fear at how close she had come to falling off the mountain. What drove this woman to tempt death so easily?
Unable to give up until he discovered some answers, Anton continued to follow her. Twice his paws slipped in the mud, and he barely caught himself. Only his immense lycanthrope strength and agility saved him. How the woman endured he didn't know. But he would catch her scent, or find where she broke her fall, and know she was still climbing.
The rain continued to lash at him, making it hard to see. Realizing that he was gaining on the woman kept him moving forward. She didn't know it, but she had become his prey. His emotions swept over him: anger at her foolishness, pride in her courage, respect for her determination. She would be a good mate for him. Anton paused a moment in his ascent, wondering where that thought came from.
Finally, reaching the summit, Anton happily noticed that the rain and wind were starting to diminish. He shook himself, trying to release some of the water from his fur. Soon the storm would move over the mountains. Even with his wolf strength, he wasn't sure he wouldn't fall up here. The narrow summit trail was almost completely washed away. He looked both ways along the mountaintop, searching for his elusive prey. The woman appeared out of the gloom. Though he had the power to see perfectly in the dark, he could barely make her out.
She seemed small and thin, her clothes plastered to her skin, her shirt nearly transparent from the rain. The small form worked its way along the top of the mountain trail. He wanted to call to her to stop. But in his wolf form, only a growl came out. Not even knowing why he tried, he sent his mind to her, reaching her with his telepathy.
Stop, Malyshka, little one. It is too dangerous. Let me help you
.
The woman whipped around as if she heard him, then she teetered. Anton held his breath, hoping she would recover. Terror like he’d never known slammed into his gut. He was standing too far away to help her. There was no way he could reach her in time. With her arms waving like pinwheels, she slipped and disappeared over the edge. Anton's breath caught as she screamed. Was he responsible for the death of the woman he tried to save? Before he could move, a blinding flash of yellow light struck him in the chest, almost knocking his paws out from under him. The golden cord of light bound his heart to hers. It was the outward sign of a heartmate connection.
Anton ran to where the young woman had been standing. His only hope that she lived, was the heartmate bond now glowing between them. Would he see her broken body below? He knew what the golden bonding cord signified. The woman he was chasing was his mate. The one woman meant to be his. Could his mate recover from the fall? He looked over the edge.
She hung some ten feet below, her backpack caught on an old tree limb sticking out from the side of the mountain. But even as he watched, the limb started to give way beneath her weight.
Numb with fear, Laurel hung above the chasm. Her heart raced so fast she could hardly breathe. Her backpack was caught on a tree branch, and she wrapped both arms around the branch. She had heard a voice in her head and turned to see a large wolf on the trail behind her. She had started to slip and tried to regain her balance, but she fell.
Her mind was still reeling from what had happened. Trembling in terror, she clung to the branch as she clung to life. A blinding flash of light made her blink, and then warmth suffused her chest and caused a slight ache. A rush of panic flooded into her mind, and she held tighter to the limb. Laurel could see a strange golden cord coming out of her chest and going back up the mountain. She tried to grab it, but it seemed to be made of light and her hope to climb it to safety ended in despair. What it all meant she didn’t know.
She felt the tree give slightly and clutched it harder. Would it give way with her added weight? How was she going to get out of this mess? A noise above her caused Laurel to look up and see a naked man climbing down the rocks to get to her. Her mouth dropped open in amazement. He looked like a statue of a Greek god, all muscle and fluid grace. His wet black hair lay plastered to his skull but hung long enough to curl at his shoulders. He scowled in determination and concentration. She could see blood dripping from the numerous scratches he’d received from the scrub brush as he descended. Who was he, and why did he bother?
He glanced at her sharply. She swore in the gloom. His silver-gray eyes flashed in reprimand.
“Do not give up now,
Malyshka
. I know you are tired from your flight, but you must hang on a while longer,” he said.
Laurel stared at him. He stood taller than her stepfather. He moved so confidently, even with his wounds. Why would he try to rescue her? Not that she wasn't glad he did. She certainly didn't want to die. But she also didn't want him to get hurt. From the cuts and scratches on his legs and arms, it was clear he had hurt himself while trying to save her.
Laurel wondered as he climbed down beside her if she had made him up from wishful thinking.
He chuckled as he balanced on a ledge, perched below and to the left of her. “I am not an illusion,
Malyshka
. Now you must give me your hand so I can save you.”
Laurel tried to move her hand but couldn't make herself let go of the branch. How could she trust this man? He stood bigger than her stepfather. If he hit her, he could kill her instantly. He hissed with irritation, and she flinched, closing her eyes against the threat. She felt him pause, and his voice gentled when he spoke to her.
“Please,
Malyshka
. I've been hoping to find you. Please know that I would never hurt you, nor will I allow anyone else to hurt you. You will be safe with me.”
Laurel looked down at him. His eyes shown with compassion. He reached a hand out to her, and she could see it tremble.
If she wanted to live, Laurel needed to trust this man. Not all men turned into monsters like her stepfather. And for some reason she knew this man would keep her safe as he promised. She took a deep breath and reached out her hand to grasp his.
Anton felt great relief when she started to reach for him. As their fingers touched, the tree shuddered. Anton thrust his arm out and grabbed her wrist as the tree started to fall, pulling her into his side as the branches rushed past them. He held her, trying to shelter her body, as one of the limbs left a long stripe of agony across his shoulder. Blood dripped down his back from the wound, and scratches wove a pattern of red stripes on his body. He hoped he would have the strength to carry the woman back up the mountain.
She clung to his arm with both hands, shivering with cold and fear.
“Easy now. Make sure your feet are securely on the shelf. There you go. Now reach up and grab my neck. I want you to climb up on my back.”
She looked up at him sharply. “You're hurt and bleeding,” she accused.
“Let's worry about that after we are safe on the summit,” Anton said. “It is now too dark for you to see to climb.”
Laurel had to admit he was right. She could barely see him, and he was standing right next to her. Thankfully, the storm had stopped, but the mountain would still be muddy and hard to climb. She reached around his back and felt blood dripping from his wound. Carrying her would only cause him pain. That thought made her stomach roil, and she found she couldn't allow it.
Knowing she was taking a chance with her life, Laurel put her arms around his waist and reached inside for her healing energy. She found the well of quiet peace and let her healing light pour over both of them. First there was a flash of heat, then spreading warmth throughout their joined bodies. She let the healing energy take away the terror as well as each scratch and tear.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Healing you,” she whispered, keeping her concentration.
When she felt the last of the energy leave her body, she almost stumbled. Large male hands grabbed her and held her tight.
“Thank you for your gift,
Malyshka.
But you should have saved your strength. We cannot spend the night on this ledge. Do you have the strength to climb up on my back?”
“I will try.”
“What is your name,
milaya moya,
my sweet?” he asked her as he helped her move into position, bending his shoulders down so she could reach up to put her arms around his neck.
“Laurel,” she answered as she locked her arms around his neck, hoping she wasn't choking him.
“I am Anton, your mate,” he said, and then he began to climb.
Anton could not believe what Laurel had done for him. She was a treasure, illused by her stepfather. He found memories of drunken beatings in her mind. If he could arrange it, her stepfather would suffer for not cherishing the young woman destined to be Anton’s mate.
But now she lay exhausted and shivering with cold. He needed to get her into some kind of shelter and warm her. She struggled to hold on to him, and he feared what would happen if she couldn't continue.
Anton sighed with thanksgiving when he finally reached the top and crouched down so Laurel could slip from his back. She slid unceremoniously to the ground. Anton reached to help her untangle her arms from around his neck. She was still shivering uncontrollably, and Anton gathered her close to his chest, trying to warm her with his body.
Now the sky was fully dark, and Anton considered staying right here. But when Laurel's teeth started chattering, he realized that wouldn't work. Where could he take her? His father Vikenti had brought him and his brother up to these mountains when they were young. The mountains were on the edge of the pack’s territory, and his father wanted both his sons to know every inch of their territory.
Anton remembered a small hunting cabin, but it was at least a mile away. Now that the trails were muddy and slick, he wasn't sure they could make it. But then they didn't really have much choice. He wasn't taking Laurel back down the mountain where her stepfather might try to get hold of her. He reached down and slid his arms around his mate and lifted her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, alarm in her voice, as she stiffened in his arms.
“Trying to get us to shelter. It's going to be a while. The nearest place I can remember is at least a mile away. Put your arms around my neck and hold on. Use my body heat to warm yourself.”
“But it's dark. How will we make our way?”
“I have certain abilities, as you do,
milaya
moya,”
he said as he started moving along the summit of the mountain. “One of them is I can see perfectly in the dark.
Anton could see the lights of the village far below and back toward the river. But the hunters’ hut was ahead on the other side of the mountain. If he remembered correctly, there should be a trail that would branch off and down.
Anton started moving with confidence. He sent his mind reaching for his twin. With the distance, she would be his best chance to get a message out.
Alena?
Anton where are you? You sound far away
.
I am in the mountains. I am headed to the old hunters’ hut. Do you remember it?
Yes, but why?
I will explain later. Bring the truck and meet me near the hut.
It will take almost a day to get to you.
Please come, Alena.
Of course, we will come. Are you injured?
No, but I need to break off. The trail is muddy and slippery,
he sent to his sister.
Be safe, Anton
, she sent in reply.
Anton continued along the trail, sighing in relief when he found the path leading down. Now, he needed to get down the trail without falling. Laurel finally succumbed to her exhaustion and lay limp in his arms. He marveled at how light she was. She couldn't weigh more than 100 pounds or so. He growled when he felt her ribs sticking from her sides. He found memories of hunger in her mind. Her stepfather starved her while he used his money to buy alcohol. Her stepfather had a lot to answer for.
Anton promised himself to see that she ate. As his mate, she would no longer starve for anything—food, attention, or love.
He pushed the door of the old hunters’ hut open and lay Laurel down on the little cot. He worked quickly, stripping her wet clothes from her chilled body. In a wooden box next to the door he found several old wool blankets and wrapped her carefully in them.
He feared what would happen if she took a fever. He didn't know if her healing gift could heal an illness. With her body so thin and worn, he feared for her health. Once he settled her on the cot, he opened her backpack and pulled out the wet clothes inside, spreading them out on the table to dry. He found her brush and passport on the bottom. He opened the American passport. Her full name was Laurel Marie Harris. The picture must have been taken several years ago. A smiling adolescent looked out of the picture, while Anton knew her to be a young woman with a woman's body, curvy and soft. Her birthday was today, June 22
nd
, and she was eighteen. Her hair was actually a deep auburn. In the rain and darkness, Anton had thought it a dark brown.
Next, Anton searched the rest of the cabin and found a tin of crackers and a jar of berry jam. He also found a pair of men’s overalls. He remembered Laurel's shock at his nude body. Tomorrow he would wear the overalls to make her more comfortable. Nudity played a large part in pack life, but humans were not accustomed to it.
Finding nothing else of use, he blocked the door with the one and only chair and climbed into the cot. He placed Laurel across his body, safe in his arms. Finally, he let sleep take him.