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Others wake, moving slowly, groaning. Some of them flinch, looking around wide-eyed.
She yips. I’m standing guard, you see? I’m keeping watch.
“It’s our turn, Kitty. Let us watch. Sleep now.” He bends his face to her shoulder. She squirms under his touch. His fear increases hers.
“What’s wrong?” another asks.
“She won’t sleep.”
“Can’t say I blame her.”
Her mate again, almost desperate. “Shaun and Mick are keeping watch, okay? You can rest now.”
He whispers by her ear, soothing. Strokes her flanks. Urges her to sleep. Shelters her with his presence.
Her eyes close. She can no longer stand. When she sleeps, she’s curled up tight, stiff with worry.
I convulsed with the feeling of falling. My muscles twitched in anticipation of pain.
But I lay on solid ground, the earth of a forest, and with a great, frightened heave of breath, my lungs filled with Ben’s scent.
His embrace tightened around me. “Shh, shh. You’re okay. It’s okay.”
The morning was bright around us. Late morning, by the look and smell of things. I was usually up much earlier than this, the day after running. But Ben and I were both still naked. He held me close, his front to my back, his breath stirring my hair. We weren’t in our usual den. His whole body was taut with anxiety.
“What happened?” I sat up, struggling free of him but still keeping hold of his hand, his arms. I still smelled burning coals, like the woods were on fire. But all around me was calm.
“I’m not sure,” Ben said. “Something came after us last night.”
“Is everyone okay? Where is everyone?” We were alone in our shelter.
“I sent most of them home. I thought they’d be safer away from here. Mick and Shaun are still here.”
Watching our backs. Memories returned—images, emotions. We’d all been terrified. How far had we run? I didn’t recognize this place. I started shivering and cuddled closer to Ben.
“You’re freezing,” he murmured. But I couldn’t get dressed, because my clothes were back at the old den, miles from here. I looked around, dazed, trying to get my bearings, glancing over my shoulder for something that burned.
Mick and Shaun returned. Fully clothed, they might have been anyone. They’d walked out, studying the area between here and where the attack had come, looking for any evidence of what had happened. They brought our clothing with them. I dressed quickly, trying to get warm.
“What’s out there?” I said.
“Nothing,” Shaun said, shaking his head. “Just that smell.”
The smell of a burned forest. Unseen, a bird called, the sound echoing.
“Shaun—you’re okay?” I remembered an image: Shaun was the wolf who’d been attacked first.
“I’m fine,” he said, but he looked tired and seemed to be favoring a shoulder. All I remembered from the attack on me was shock and anger.
“Could you tell what it was? What do you remember?” I asked.
He shook his head. “It’s blurry. Things are always blurry the morning after—you know. But I could have sworn it had hands. Like it grabbed me and shoved me. It was strong—it must have been huge.”
“But did you see anything?”
“No, nothing. But the smell—”
“Fire,” I said. I could still smell it, and the odor triggered a feeling of fear.
