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Chapter Five
Analise
I had no plan.
Or rather I had a poor excuse for a plan when I ran through the house and out the back door toward freedom. Marrying Rod was akin to a life sentence I had committed no crime to earn. My father had never been Mr. Warmth, but at least he hadn’t been cruel to me when Mom was alive. He’d even hugged me from time to time.
But where Mom brought out his better qualities, Cyndra did the opposite. She fostered his desire for more power, for tighter control over the other pack members. Her toadies, those same women who laced me into that horrible wedding dress with its pounds of sequins and tight skirt brought her information on those who disagreed with the new restrictions on their lives. Curfews, work parties…taxation of income earned elsewhere. Cyndra was even trying to get Dad to make a ruling that he had to approve matings.
Matings! The heresy of that. Not everyone had a true mate, but for those who did, there was no choice as to whether they would spend their life with that person. A fated mate was a gift from the Goddess and not something someone chose. So far, my father had not attempted to stop anyone from a fated or chosen mate, but I could see the day Cyndra eased him into that change. She’d managed to get him to sell me for an advantage to his power structure.
Or try to.
I didn’t know where I’d end up, but I would never return for that arranged mating. Even if I was not among the fortunate to be gifted a fated mate, I’d find a way to lead a fulfilling life out of reach of my father and stepmother and their plans for me.
As I neared the woods surrounding the back of our property, I was running full tilt. Shouts from behind me let me know my escape was in danger of failing if I didn’t get moving even faster, and the only way to do that was to let my wolf free. Cyndra would fall into a screaming rage when she found what remained of her precious ugly dress. The tight fabric shredded away as I dropped onto all fours, nose lengthening into a muzzle, my bones twisting, breaking, and reshaping with the sharp burst of pain that accompanied rushed shifts, at least for me. It stole my breath but could not be helped. The chase was on, footfalls pounding the earth, cries of “Catch her!” and “Stop that little bitch!” echoing through the trees.
Those in pursuit would shift, too, but most would stop to undress to avoid ruining their best clothing, their wedding finery. I only had to outrun those who did not. But they would be the angriest and likely the swiftest wolves.
I prayed over and over in my mind, begging the Goddess to give me speed, to help me be free.Please, Lady, if you have a mate for me, lead me to him now. If I remain unmated, they will find me and drag me back. Please let me fulfill your will.I raced along the central path through the woods until I realized how foolish I was. The lead chasers were not that far behind me now, and I knew without looking back that they were the ones I least wanted to get to me. The biggest, strongest, fastest…
Turn here.I didn’t know if the voice was the Lady, but my wolf wouldn’t have spoken as if I had control of the body we shared right now. Nor did I have the ability to stop our swerve to the left. I crashed through the brush and branches, scratching my nose, one just missing jabbing my eye. I emerged in a patch of blackberry brambles, nearly naked of leaves. The thorns tore the flesh of my paws and tangled in my fur.I left smears of blood, but I didn’t believe the chasers would track me through here. We were a few hundred feet in altitude above the pack lands.
No, they’d feel confident they could pick up my trail on the other side and catch the poor, weak, tired wolfling there. Return me and hand me off to Rod and his perverse father. And brothers… How could my own family sentence me to that life? While I kept getting locked in my head, my wolf was continuing through the woods, finding all the worst, most difficult sections, constantly climbing until the trees began to thin at the uppermost, eastern part of the pack lands.
And then there were no more trees at all. Only crags and outcroppings and even patches of ice and snow that never entirely melted in the height of summer. The glaciers of the Sierra Nevada soon to be buried under this year’s snowfall. The pass we headed toward would be impassible in a matter of weeks, maybe even sooner if the gathering clouds offered any indication. For now, our sore paws pounded on bare stone, but the wind was picking up as well.
Before we entered the pass, the mountainside below was visible, along with those who followed it. As I’d expected, the biggest and strongest of both our pack and the visitors. Mostly betas, and I’d recognize my “fiancé” in his four-legged form anywhere. A motley brown and beige, scraggly fur that no female could find attractive.He is sick.
My wolf’s tone told me it wasn’t like he had a cold.Like mange?
But before we could continue, a muzzle appeared on a ledge not nearly far enough below us, and we leaped back and loped for the pass. As we entered, the first flakes of snow landed on our muzzle, thickening quickly and sticking to the ground. The clouds hovered just over us, dumping more by the minute and making the ground under us more difficult to navigate but also covering our tracks behind us.
Before we were halfway through, the rock and gravel under us had disappeared under the first six inches or so of what locals called Sierra cement. Snow up here was not the fluffy kind pictured on holiday cards. But I loved every bit of it shielding us from the pursuers. A glance behind had us hurrying faster because if we got trapped in the pass, we’d die. The sheer walls rose on either side of us, unscalable even without a storm.
I’d been through this only once before with my parents, but it had been high summer and a beautiful day’s outing with no need to hurry. Nobody trying to capture us and force us back to an unthinkable horror of a life.
We kept moving, and every time we looked behind, the snow seemed deeper, but in front of us, it maintained the half foot or so depth. The clouds behind were dark and angry, but approaching the other end of the pass not only were they whiter, but bits of blue sky could be seen between them.
This did not feel natural. Could it be…could the Lady have granted my prayer? Was this gift from the Goddess in her aspect as Mother Nature an indication that not only was she helping me to get free but that she had a mate for me?
Or was that too big a leap in logic?
Despite the assistance of the storm or the Goddess or both, we continued to lope along. Stopping or slowing was the best way to freeze to death at this altitude. We would not be the first. After what felt like forever but was more likely a couple of hours at most, the snow stopped falling over us. Behind us, it was continuing, filling the pass, already feet deep and coming down hard. No question we’d been assisted because this held all the signs of a supernatural phenomenon.
We emerged at the top of the trail downward and paused for breath. The Eastern Sierra lay before us, mountains tipped with snow but leading into a valley where cattle grazed on autumn grasses and cottonwoods grew near stream beds still carrying snow melt from last spring. The storm still glowered behind us, but over the valley, the sky formed a deep blue bowl decorated with white thready clouds I might know the name of if I’d paid better attention in class. Or not. Our pack’s schooling would never win an award for excellence.
We needed to keep going. The Goddess would expect us to do our part in our own rescue, but our legs ached and our breath was harsh this high up, so we sat for just a few minutes before starting down the trail to a lower, safer altitude.
What we’d do when we got there, I didn’t know, but in this form, we could at least hunt enough to eat, and the streams would provide water. Perhaps a cave or abandoned cabin could shelter us for a while.
Although my wolf was an excellent hunter, no little creatures appeared along our route, and I didn’t want to go off the trail until we were lower and less likely to get frostbite.I am made for the cold,my wolf chided, but the human in me feared being somehow shifted back where my pathetic naked skin could not protect me.
I could feel her derision at my overthinking, but I’d been through a lot that day and could not help the worry, so onward we went, downward until the air was a bit more breathable and the temperature hovered just above freezing. Halfway down, we lost daylight, but the moon was already up and simply exchanged its glow, casting everything in silver and shadow. Beautiful, cold, and stark. But safe?
No other predator will take on a wolf.
No, she was right, but humans with guns were afield at this time of year to kill deer and elk, and they were not always averse to shooting something else. Like a wolf in a field of grazing cattle.
