I’d been nervous about changing full wolf in front of Jackson, but the moment the anticipation hit me, all worry disappeared. I tore off clothing, feeling the itch of transformation under my skin. When I was na**d, I knelt on the porch on all fours, noticing the others were only a pace behind. My wolf came to the forefront then, and the shift tore through me, the painfully sweet jolts of muscle and tendon and bone locking and maneuvering into a new form. Shifting hurt - it always hurt - but you grew to anticipate the pain because of what came next: pure and utter freedom.
In wolf form, I bounded off the porch and looked back at the others, wagging my tail and waiting. My ears pricked as I took in the sounds of their changes. Jackson was done - a shaggy yellow-brown wolf - but had waited on the others. Spence was next, his wolf small and dark, and Trina’s gangly she-wolf form. Then Len, who was tall and lean and equally so in wolf form. Now that my pack was ready, I gave a small whine to call their attention, and then darted for the trees.
I could hear the others behind me, paws hitting the ground. I flicked my ears and slowed my pace, waiting for Jackson to take the lead. He was the alpha, and even though I might dart off into the woods, Cash had always overtaken the lead from me.
But instead of passing me, Jackson simply nipped my flanks, indicating that I should keep running. He was content to let me lead. My pack, my woods, my lead. I turned and gave him a wolfy grin before lifting my head and howling to the moon.
The first few hours of wolfiness were usually the most feral. We’d run at top speed, howl at anything in the sky, chase anything moving, and generally act like wild dogs with our first taste of freedom in weeks. I was no better, of course, being just as obnoxiously frisky as the others. Eventually, though, the racing through the woods turned into games. We wrestled, chased each other, and then played a wolf version of hide and seek where you attempted to hide your scent trail from the others. Spence, Trina and Len knew the games well, but I imagine we surprised Jackson when we all dashed away in opposite directions at once - and he’d been more or less defaulted to ‘it.’
I bounded through the woods, lungs full of night air and the scent of the trees. I could smell skunk and armadillo, squirrel and snake, and some sort of musky dead thing in the distance that made me want to check it out, but curiosity took a second place to the thrill of the chase, and I bolted through the woods merrily.
As my paws landed on a ridge, something hot snaked around one foot and then the world tilted. The next thing I knew, pain was lancing up my hind leg and I was dangling, upside down, from a tree. I’d been caught in a snare of some kind.
I yelped, but no one was close by to hear me. I flailed helplessly, but the rope only continued to cut harder into my foot, and I could feel the bones straining. My wolf hind leg couldn’t support my body - I needed to transform, and fast. Furious, I called up my human side and began the painful transformation back.
A few minutes later, my human form was writhing upside down, the rope cutting into my ankle. I swung back and forth, my head a few feet from the ground. If I stretched, I couldn’t quite touch the ground - my fingers barely brushed the grass.
“Hello?” I called. “Anybody? I’m stuck!” I was going to be furious later, when I had time to relax and calm down and let it process that someone had been on my property and set a rope trap. But for now, I was focused on the pain in my leg and the need to get down.
I heard rustling in the distance, and that musky dead smell grew stronger. I tried to spin around, hearing something coming up behind me, but I only managed to make myself swing from the tree.
A moment later, the dead smell grew stronger, overwhelming…along with the smell of my hated enemy.
Roscoe.
A shiver of fear crept up my spine, immediately followed by anger. How dare he come on my land and set traps? He didn’t belong here. He’d be attacked by any other wolf clan for simply encroaching territory. But he kept straying onto ours because he thought we had no alpha and were vulnerable.
He was about to be in for a shock, then.
“I might have known,” I said fiercely. I twisted in the ropes again, flinging my arms wide to try and grasp on to something. “I thought I smelled something foul.”
“Thought I’d disguise my scent,” Roscoe drawled. “Can’t have you figuring out all my plans based on smell alone, now can I? Ain’t no fun in that.”
“You need to leave Savage territory,” I told him coldly. “I’m warning you.”
He slapped my na**d ass. “Had no idea you had such a nice body, girl. It’s gonna be fun to mate you.”
I twisted, trying to show my neck. “Joke’s on you, jackass. You’re too late. I’m already mated.”
“Say what?”
I heard the knife a moment before the rope slackened, and then I was dumped unceremoniously to the ground. I barely managed to roll, my reflexes automatically shifting my body to protect my head. I scrambled to my feet, feeling dizzy from my stint upside down, and glared at Roscoe while wobbling.
I wasn’t about to run away. Not from him. This was a direct challenge and I’d be damned if I ran away from a challenge. I wouldn’t run from this bully. Not anymore.
He eyed my na**d body up and down, anger making his jaw clench. Roscoe was a hard man. Everything about him was hard used, from the deep crinkles around his eyes to the hard set of his mouth, to the gray in his dirty hair. Even his eyes were cold and mean. He was strong, though, and wiry. And mentally? He was a scary motherfucker.
I met his gaze, unwilling to drop my eyes.
He grinned at me. “You got some nice tits, too.”
“Thanks,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “I’ll be sure and let my new alpha know you approve.” I tossed my hair back so he could see the mate mark on my throat.
His cold eyes narrowed. “Now, why’d you go and do that for? You know I’d have taken care of you.”
“I’m not interested in your care.”
Roscoe’s mouth curved in a hard, ugly smile. “You know that boy of yours isn’t strong enough to beat me if I’m interested in taking over.”
“Len’s not my alpha,” I told him simply. “I got someone stronger. Someone from out of the area who was looking for a pack. Which means you need to go.”
“Really,” he said, rocking back on his heels. His fingers dug into his belt loops, and then he wiped a hand on his dirty shirt, that awful, skunky smell wafting into the air again. “And you already mated him?”
“That’s right.”
“He a good f**k? Lick that pu**y hard?”
Shocked by his crude words, I felt the color rising in my face. “That’s none of your business.”
Roscoe snorted, and he stalked toward me. Anyone else would have dropped their ground, retreated a few steps, but I was locked into place, my will not allowing me to give him a bit of ground. If I gave him an inch, I’d find myself his in all ways.
He reached for my throat and I slapped his hands away. The next thing I knew, he was shoving me backward and I was pinned against a tree, the bark biting into my back. His hand clenched my jaw, his bigger frame stronger than me.
I snarled at him, showing my teeth. “Don’t you f**king touch me!”
He ignored my protests, shoving my head backward and forcibly exposing my neck so he could look at my mate mark. Then, he tilted my head back down.
“He got a big cock, girl? Or should I check for myself if he’s used you hard?”
I struggled against his hand. “I do not have to answer any of this!”
“No, you don’t,” he said in a mean voice. “That blush on your cheeks tells me everything. You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?”
I stilled, frozen at his words. “I have a mate.”
“No, you have a guy that bit your neck, precious.” He pinched my chin, harder. “If I throw you down on the forest floor here and f**k you myself, I can just as easily cover that mate mark with one of my own. Then you and your pack are all mine. What do you think of that?”
“I think I’d like to see you f**king try,” I bit out, and slashed my nails at his face.
My nails connected with the soft flesh of his eye. I felt him jerk even as he howled with anger, and his hand pinned my neck to the tree, choking me. I scratched and clawed at his hand, desperately trying to get free as Roscoe reeled from my attack. A moment later, he recovered, squinting up at me from his good eye.
And then he clocked me straight in the face with his fist.
Pain exploded behind my cheekbone, and I grunted when he struck me. That only made me fight harder, though, because I knew that if I backed down now, it was going to be much, much worse for me in the end.
So I fought.
I kicked and struck, snarling my fury, even as Roscoe hit me back, trying to subdue me. The world became a ringing of blows around my face, and he tried to trap my arms even as I fought and flailed against him. I would not go down without a fight.
But the world was getting dark, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe, Roscoe’s big hand tightening on my throat. He was choking the life out of me, and I couldn’t seem to get any air into my lungs. Blackness swirled at the edges of my vision.
A blur erupted from the corner of my eye, and the next thing I knew, I dropped to the ground, my throat released. Mad snarls filled the air, and I coughed, looking up to see that familiar yellow-brown wolf attacking Roscoe. Until I saw him against Roscoe’s human form, I hadn’t realized how big Jackson was as a wolf. He was enormous, though, all bristling fur and white fang, and he’d taken almost no time to subdue Roscoe. Even now, the other man was holding an arm braced over his face and neck to protect it, while Jackson snarled and slashed at it, going for his throat.
“Back off, Jackson,” I told him in a raspy voice, rising from the ground. There was blood in the corner of my mouth and I wiped it, hating the taste. “Don’t kill him.”
“Listen to your bitch,” Roscoe called from over Jackson’s snarls. “Don’t kill me. It’s just pack disputes.”