 
### BROKEN MOON, PART 1

Claudia King

Published by Claudia King at Smashwords

Copyright © 2013 Claudia King

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Proceeds from sales directly help this author to continue doing what she loves, and to share it with you the reader!

* * * * *

### Broken Moon, Part 1

* * * * *

The taste of rain in his mouth and the chill of icy sleet running down the back of his neck didn't bother him. He was used to it. Even with his hunting jacket soaked through and his dark hair hanging in wet locks before his eyes he carried on, pressing up the mountain slope to where the weather was harsher, the wind colder.

They were stalking him, he could tell. Half a dozen times he'd tried to climb the mountain to find their pack, and now, at last, they had been the ones to find him.

He smiled to himself, exhausted, and forced his thickly muscled body onwards up the steep slope, the forest thinning and giving way to scattered pine trees, the grass becoming patchy beneath his boots where snow blown down from the chilly heights had smothered it.

In the back of his mind his wolf whispered to him, like a wild animal dogging his every step, trying to latch on and sink in its teeth the second he faltered.

You need me. You need my strength. They'll come for you soon.

He grit his teeth and pushed his wolf to the back of his mind. The thoughts were his own, but they weren't born of the human part of him. He knew the steep slope would be made easier by his wolf's powerful legs, the cold more tolerable by a thick coat of fur, but he refused.

They were close now. Even without the sharp senses of his wolf he could hear their paws disturbing the rocks and smell their pack-scent on the wind. No doubt they were waiting for him to turn back, as he had always done before, but not this time.

He forced his aching legs to keep moving forward. Years of rough living had chiselled him into a rugged, weather-hardened creature, and he could endure far beyond the point at which most others would give up. He grit his teeth, forcing his endurance to the limit in a silent challenge to his pursuers. Would the harsh weather get to them first, or to him?

As long as they were out there, he wouldn't stop. He'd force them to make the first move.

His boots slipped on a heap of loose shale and he dropped to one knee, cursing through his teeth as pain shot up his leg. He curled his fingers into the grass, struggling to drag himself back to his feet, and then he saw them.

They slunk out from behind the trees and rocks all at the same time, far nearer than he'd expected.

He was a large wolf, an alpha among his kind, but every one of these creatures matched him in size. Half a dozen pairs of animal eyes glistened through the rain, watching him with human intelligence. They were werewolves, like him, and he was trespassing in their territory.

He huffed a breathless sigh and sat down on the slope, closing his eyes for a moment as he fought the maddening urge of his wolf prickling at the back of his mind.

Fight them. You need me. Fight them.

A pair of boots crunched on the shale as the lead wolf took his human form, standing just a few feet away.

"This is the third time we've seen you in our territory. What are you doing here?"

He smiled, wiping the wet strands of hair away from his face as he looked up at the leader, blinking through the rain. "Looking for you. I'm getting close to your pack, aren't I? Otherwise you'd never have shown your faces. And this is the fifth time I've been up here."

"Why?" The leader narrowed his eyes, taking a step forward and bending down on one knee to meet the eyes of the other wolf. His hair was cropped short, his gloves and trench coat lending him an almost military air.

"Because you're the only pack I haven't found yet. You're the Highland Pack, aren't you? Hiding up in the mountains, hidden away from everyone."

The leader ignored his question. "You're a loner?"

He nodded.

"How long?"

"Two years, give or take."

"What happened to your last pack? Did they drive you out?"

He glared at the leader, and for a moment he almost gave in to the furious urges of his wolf. "I left. There was no place for me there."

"The Highland Pack doesn't take in strays."

"I never asked you to take me in."

The leader stared at him for a long moment before responding. "Two years is a long time to be out there on your own. I'm surprised you didn't go feral."

"Don't tempt me."

One of the other wolves growled, baring his fangs as he inched forward until the leader held up a hand to halt him. He regarded the stranger in silence once more, then offered him his hand.

"Our elders will want to talk with you, then we'll decide what to do. What's your name?"

He managed to stifle his sigh of relief as he took the leader's hand, rising to his feet with a groan.

"Cyan."

* * * * *

April hugged her bedsheets, clinging on to their lingering warmth as the fire in her cabin's hearth died down and the icy chill from outside crept in through the boards. Hail and sleet drummed against the windows, and she knew the winter snow would be here before long. If there was one thing she disliked about her home, it was the cold.

With a reluctant grumble she dragged herself out of bed, the sheets still clutched to her body, and shuffled over to the hearth to feed fresh logs into the coals. She would need to chop fresh wood today to build up her stocks for the winter. She'd put off replenishing the log pile outside all summer, and now it was coming back to bite her. If the weather got much colder she'd have to start sleeping in her wolf form again, and she hated having to brush hairs out of the sheets every morning when she did that.

A sharp rap on the door made her jump, and she peeked out past the curtains hesitantly before breathing a sigh of relief. It was only Harper. No need to get dressed for him.

A smile lit the corner of her lips. Probably every reason to stay undressed.

April drew back the latch, wincing as a gush of icy air and rain blew in along with Harper and his heavy boots, her mate-to-be dripping all over the floorboards as he hunched his shoulders and shivered.

"You brought in all the cold," she complained, latching the door shut again and hurrying back to the warmth of her bed against the far wall.

"I needed you to warm me up." He grinned, taking off his boots and hanging his jacket on the back of the door without her even having to ask this time. Good. At least he was learning.

"What are you doing up this early, anyway?" she said. "You're not on hunting duty today, are you?"

"No, but Blackthorn and some of the others are out on patrol. He wanted me to keep an eye on the camp, just in case."

April shook her head. "He's too paranoid. And aren't you shirking your duties, coming in to see me when you're supposed to be keeping our pack safe from the terrors of the wilderness?" She rolled her eyes, blowing a tangle of red hair out of her face as Harper eased off his damp trousers and dropped to the bed beside her with a chuckle.

"Most girls would be flattered by the attention."

"You've only known, like, a couple of dozen girls in your whole life."

"Hey, that's not true." He mock-frowned, sliding an arm around her waist. "I got to know lots of girls when they sent us off to school with the regular kids."

"Yeah, I guess so," she sighed. "I liked it when they let us do that. It was nice seeing how people who aren't werewolves live. Their houses had better heating than ours."

"But they don't get all of this natural beauty to enjoy down in the city," Harper replied, leaning up to kiss her cheek.

April smiled, finally letting go of the sheets and curling her arm around her partner. She liked these moments when he was sweet. It reminded her of when they were younger, when the idea of playing "mates" was just a silly childhood game. She'd never really understood what it would be like to make a life with Harper back then, to share a home, maybe even have children one day if they were lucky.

She shivered again, and clutched the sheets back to her breast.

"Still cold?" he said.

She nodded quickly, forcing her thoughts back to the present. She was lucky, really, to have someone like Harper who cared for her. If it weren't for him the elders would have paired her up with another mate the second she hit adulthood, and she wouldn't have had much say in the matter. Not that the other arranged couples in the pack were unhappy, but the idea of it had always unnerved her. She sometimes lay awake at night wondering what it would have been like to be paired with one of the older males, Blackthorn, or Hadrian, or even Gene. Moving into their cabin and going to their bed every night...

She bit her lip and chased the unwanted thoughts away again. That didn't matter when she had Harper.

The pressure on the two of them to complete their mating had been minimal, but it was always there in the background, hanging over her uncertainly. Soon the day would come when she'd have to give up her own cosy cabin and move into his.

It was as good a future as any female in the Highland Pack could have asked for, really.

Harper's lips brushed her bare shoulder, their warmth sending a tingle through her body as his free hand moved beneath the sheets to caress her bare hip.

"Your fingers are cold," she said softly, looking down into his sparkling eyes and running her fingers through his fair hair.

"I can always leave you to warm up by yourself, if you'd like," he replied, a teasing smile on his lips.

April returned the smile and shook her head, breathing in sharply as his cool hand traced the softly defined muscles of her stomach, his fingers brushing the dip of her navel.

Harper was a good friend. A good lover. And he would make a good mate. She had no reason to complain.

Easing her down on the bed he slid his arm out from behind her back and straightened up to remove his shirt and underwear, casting them aside on the cabin floor as April ran her tongue teasingly over her lips, rubbing her thighs together in expectation as the familiar tingle of excitement built in her belly. It always made her feel young and girlish, reminding her of the first night her childhood friend had kissed her and taken her virginity, their sweaty, quivering bodies wrapped together in the sheets of his bed as the firelight danced on their skin. She had never been with anyone else since then, and doubted she ever would.

He eased the sheets away from her naked body and slid in beneath them, his hardness pressing against her stomach as he took her in his arms and leaned in for a kiss. She responded affectionately, indulging his eager tongue in her mouth with a soft suckling and a murmur of encouragement, parting her thighs for him as his knees eased them apart.

His hands found her pert breasts, teasing her excitement closer and closer to the surface as he massaged them gently, rolling the nubs between his fingers until they were hard and tense. Her chest rose and fell sharply, her breath coming in gasps as she clung to Harper's muscular shoulders, pressing her body up against his to bathe in the sensation of his skin rubbing against hers, the teasing pressure of his shaft resting just below her navel, twitching in response to her quiet sounds of pleasure.

"I don't have to go back out there," he whispered in her ear amidst a trail of warm kisses along her cheek and neck. "We can take our time."

"You don't need to impress me," she chuckled, twining her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and pursing her lips teasingly. "Just do as you please, my alpha."

He bared his teeth in a smile and gave her neck a sharp nip, drawing a squeak of excitement from April as she giggled and curled her legs around his waist, tugging him in. Needing no more encouragement, Harper reached down and aligned himself with her moistening folds, stroking himself gently against her opening for an agonising moment before pushing firmly in.

April let out a gasp of pleasure and tightened her legs around her partner, wanting more of him, harder, the need between her legs growing intense. He filled her steadily, but the pressure of his grip around her hip and shoulder didn't match the fervour with which her fingers clutched at his neck, her nails digging into his skin as she sucked in heavy breaths through clenched teeth.

"Harder," she whispered, eyes closing, her brow furrowed.

"Are you ready?" Harper's husky voice answered. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

He drew back gently, her slick walls reluctant to let go of his shaft, and thrust back into her harder, driving his hips against her pale body until an unbidden squeal rose in her chest.

April's fingers roved across his toned shoulders, her palms stroking his smooth cheeks, nails scratching at his firm chest as her lips closed and parted in silent ecstasy until the tension in her throat finally broke with a breathless cry of passion.

Harper panted in time with his strokes, his hands finally giving her the pressure she craved as he gripped her tight, holding her down against the bed by her shoulder with one hand while the other braced her hip against the rhythm of his thrusts.

The tantalising scent of her arousal mixed with his filled the space between them, the cold forgotten as April's heated juices ran from her folds and the warmth of her partner's body mingled with hers. Her cries became a desperate whimper as her impending climax coiled within her belly, gripping and stroking and squeezing at the sensitive spot at her core that threatened to ignite into mind-numbing pleasure at any moment.

The slick friction between her folds stoked her excitement higher, her lips finding Harper's skin as she kissed the faintly salty male scent from his body, his chest, his neck, his mouth, until she could barely breathe and her muscles ached with the effort of clinging to him.

She just needed a little more. To feel his teeth, his hands clutching her hard, harder, something sharp, something bestial, she wanted that wolf to drive her higher than ever before—

Harper shuddered, throbbing inside her as he groaned with release, April's own climax seeping out of her in a heady cloud of warm pleasure as she focused on the friction of him inside her, the closeness of his body and the weight of his hands as he shook with ecstasy.

She tingled as she hit her peak, sucking in a shrill breath and clutching her partner's body to hers as he clung on, her walls gripping him feverishly tight, longing for more, just a little more, something to prolong that wonderful moment...

Her pleasure ebbed, the sharpness of her breath easing as the tremors in her muscles gave way to dull exhaustion, her legs unlocking from around Harper's waist and sliding down the back of his thighs as her toes curled and squirmed in the afterglow.

His heavy breathing filled her ear, and she stroked his cheek warmly as the weight of his body rested against her side.

"Warmer now?" he panted, giving her ear a kiss.

"Much. Thank you." She smiled, stroking her fingers up and down his back, rubbing her thighs against his legs to prolong the pleasant tingle running across her skin.

Harper was a good lover. He'd make her a good mate.

April dozed a few minutes longer in her partner's arms, feeling the warmth of his body close against hers as the steady patter of the rain against her cabin grew fainter. She could never manage to drift off to sleep again while Harper was here. Perhaps it was just the unusual presence of another body in her bed, or the sound of his heavy breathing in her ear, or the lingering intensity of their lovemaking, but it was never quite the same as crawling back into bed by herself.

She enjoyed him being here, but at the same time it set her on edge, as though reminding her of how much her life would change once the pair of them were mated.

She sat up suddenly, drawing the sheets away from him and clutching them to her breast once more. His hand crept up her bare back, and she shivered.

"What's wrong?" he said.

"Nothing." She shook her head, agitated by his curiosity. How could she explain something she didn't fully understand herself without making it sound like she didn't want him here? "We should... we should be more careful." April shifted on the edge of the bed, feeling the slick leavings of his climax between her thighs.

"About what?"

She turned, looking down at him. "I don't want to be a mother. Not yet."

Harper gave her a wry smile. "Don't let any of the elders hear you say that. It's our duty to keep the pack going for another generation, after all. Don't worry about it, it might never happen."

"Might," she replied with a sigh.

Having children was often a once in a lifetime occurrence for werewolves. Many were mated for years without ever conceiving, which was all the more reason for the pack elders to make sure every female found a mate as soon as she was old enough.

"Would it be so bad?" Harper said. "It would make everyone happy. Including me." He gave her shoulder a squeeze, and April looked away.

"I suppose I'm just being silly."

After a long pause Harper sat up beside her, removing his hand from her shoulder. "Are you still uncomfortable with this, April? One moment you're happy with me, the next it seems like you don't want us to have a future together at all." He hid it well, but she caught the note of frustration in his voice. They'd known each other too long for her to miss it. "I know things might not be perfect, but we've got a good life waiting for us if only you'd warm up to it. We could be mated any day now. I'm just waiting for you to say the word."

She curled her fingers into the sheets, wishing she was clothed again. She hated how reasonable it sounded when he said it out loud. The very things she loved most about her pack—the stability, the safety—were exactly what made her so uneasy about her future here. Everything was expected to go a certain way, including the course of her own life. How could she explain it in a way that would make him understand?

"It's just... I feel as though everyone wants me to change, and I'm not ready for it," she said at last. "It's not that I don't want to be your mate," she added hastily, "I just want to get there in my own time, without it feeling so... I don't know, forced."

That had been the wrong thing to say. Harper's brow furrowed, but he smoothed it over quickly, as he always did, and cleared his throat.

"Then I'll do my best to help you get there," he said stiffly, then flashed her a smile, bending down to pick up his clothes. "Why don't we spend some time together later? I'm going out on patrol to check the west ridge, you should come along."

He was trying to be helpful. April raised a hand towards his turned back, but hesitated. He was so ready for everything the pack expected of them. She could hardly blame him for not understanding why she wasn't. She didn't have the heart to tell him it wasn't more time spent together that they needed.

"Okay," she said, withdrawing her hand and returning his smile as he looked back at her. "That sounds nice. We'll make it a date."

The relief on his face was so genuine it brought a lump to April's throat. Everything was so simple to Harper.

She would just have to get used to it, she supposed, and try her best to keep her conflicted feelings to herself.

* * * * *

The leader, the one the others called Blackthorn, led the way to the Highland Pack camp in silence. He remained in his human form all the way, which Cyan was thankful for. It gave him an excuse to do the same. In the same way he would have treated a wild animal, he preferred to keep his wolf on a short tether whenever possible. The less he indulged in his feral side the better.

It wasn't a long journey, but the terrain remained difficult and tiring the whole way. The rain eased up, and by the time they arrived it had given way to fluffy spots of snow trying their best to settle on the damp ground.

Through the thickening pine trees they came to a flattened area on the steep slope, surprisingly open for a werewolf camp, commanding an impressive view down the side of the mountain to the forests below. The layout of the small area was more in line with Cyan's expectations, though far more neat and civilised than the home territory of most werewolf packs.

Log seats and a carpet of gravel and wood chippings surrounded the central fire, the gravel curving off into carefully laid paths that led to a handful of wooden cabins tucked in beneath the trees and into the side of the mountain. Cyan could only make out roughly a dozen dwellings, but other paths led further up the mountain and between the rocks of the sheer cliff face, likely leading to more of the small buildings.

It was eerily beautiful, even soaked in rain. The air was tinged with the smell of wood smoke and pine needles, and everything about the place gave off the feeling of a quaint, quiet life lived in the solitude of the mountains. He had certainly visited far less welcoming werewolf camps.

"Not what you were expecting?" Blackthorn looked him up and down as they came to a halt in front of the central meeting area.

"I don't know," Cyan replied. "Judging from the size of you all I half expected a tribe of highland barbarians. But I'll take this instead."

"Good. Wait here while I fetch the elders, then we'll decide what to do with you."

"We shouldn't have brought him to the camp," one of the other wolves said as he shifted back into his human form.

"Look at the sky," Blackthorn snapped, pulling off his gloves and flicking them in the direction of the clouds. "A bad storm's coming. I'm not leaving anyone out there once it hits, not even an outsider. He can stay here until the weather passes." He paused. "But I have a feeling the elders will want to keep you around, Cyan. You're exactly the kind of stray Ingrid likes to take in."

He raised his eyebrows at that. "Is she your alpha? A female?"

Blackthorn shook his head. "No alphas in the Highland Pack, not for years. We have our elders, four people who we trust to make the right decisions for the rest of the pack."

"Three people," a quiet voice chipped in behind Cyan.

Blackthorn sighed. "Yes, three people now. Anyway, you can have a history lesson on the pack later. For now, wait here." He strode away towards a large cabin close to the central meeting area and rapped on the door, leaving Cyan to take the weight off his feet on one of the log benches.

He was exhausted. How long had it been since he'd slept somewhere comfortable? Weeks? Months? He rubbed his aching eyes, crushing the exhaustion down and forcing himself to focus.

He spent so much time living from moment to moment these days, trying to keep his wolf subdued while still clinging on to some tangible goal, that it was easy to forget what it was like to have a pack he could call his own. A pack that respected him. Obeyed him.

He swallowed the bitterness in his throat and rubbed his hands together to ward off the biting cold. He doubted he'd have the luxury of a pack that obeyed him ever again. He didn't deserve it.

Blackthorn returned shortly with a middle-aged woman in tow. From the lines around her eyes and the way her greying hair had been hastily tied back Cyan could tell she'd been woken up prematurely.

"This is Ingrid," Blackthorn said, tucking a hand behind his back formally as he introduced them. "Shall I wake the other elders?"

"It's fine, Blackthorn," Ingrid said in a soft, steady voice. "I doubt Gene would care either way, and Harriet would just look for reasons to disagree with me. So, Cyan?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "You're a loner? From the forest packs?"

He nodded. "If you'll have me, I'd love to stick around. I've been looking for your pack for a long time."

More people were starting to appear from the cabins around the edges of the camp, all eyes focused on Cyan as they whispered to one another, hanging back out of the falling snow. They glanced away when he looked at them, or returned his unflinching stare with cold detachment. All except for a pretty red-haired girl standing in the doorway of her cabin with her mate beside her.

She gave him a tentative smile, and for the first time in months a faint glimmer of relief warmed inside Cyan.

"Blackthorn says you've been out there by yourself for two years," Ingrid said. "How did you survive?"

Cyan shrugged. "The same way any wolf survives. Hunting. Being careful. Smart."

"And you never felt the urge to give in to your wolf that whole time? To go feral?"

"No," Cyan looked from Blackthorn to Ingrid. "Why does that surprise you?"

"We've had problems with people losing touch with their human side over the years, even among the safety of our own pack," Blackthorn said. "It's been a while since it last happened, but—"

"It'll happen again," Ingrid cut in sharply. "If you're used to keeping your wolf at bay, Cyan, then I'd like to hear how you managed it for so long. Provided you don't cause any trouble, you're free to stay, at least for a little while."

"Until the weather passes," Blackthorn murmured.

"Until I say so." Ingrid shot the tall male a glare. He pressed his lips together tightly, but nodded in compliance.

"I won't be any trouble," Cyan said. "But I can't promise I'll be much help with your feral problem either."

"We'll see. In the meantime you can get yourself dry and find something to eat. Blackthorn will show you to one of our empty cabins. Stick to the main camp, and if you have any questions make sure you ask. We have rules, and you'll be expected to obey them while you're here." Ingrid rubbed her hands together against the cold and turned back towards her cabin. "Try and get a fire started before the snow gets too heavy, I don't want to spend all day hiding indoors from the cold."

Blackthorn nodded once more and gathered his group to clear away the soaked ashes of the central fire and bring in dry wood. Cyan watched as they erected a sturdy gazebo of stitched animal hides over the area with an open flap at the top to let out smoke, the Highland wolves carefully kindling a fresh blaze to life beneath its shelter.

He shivered in his wet clothes, leaving the others to go about their work with the routine efficiency of a group well-used to battling the elements.

He'd been lying when he told Ingrid he wouldn't be able to help her. There had been many times over the years, even before he was a loner, that the urge to give in to his wolf had risked driving human reason from his mind permanently. The grim memories chilled him more than the freezing wind blowing through his clothes.

He wouldn't share those experiences with anyone, nor how he had managed to deal with them—if "dealing with them" was what he could even call it. He could barely stand to think about it himself, let alone speak of it out loud, and to strangers.

Everyone was a stranger to him, these days.

He snorted and eased the thick hunting jacket off his shoulders as the fire blazed to life, drawing on the aggression of his wolf for just a moment to dispel his unpleasant thoughts. The irony that his feral side was both the source of and the solution to his greatest demons wasn't lost on Cyan.

He noticed Blackthorn keeping one eye on him at all times, but besides that none of the other Highland wolves seemed interested in approaching him. A few came over to the fire once it was burning, but none shared his log bench.

That was fine by Cyan. He was used to it.

* * * * *

"I'm going to go and say hello," April whispered to Harper in the doorway of her cabin.

"Really? What for?"

"He's an outsider, think of all the stories he might have to tell! He could even have come from one of the other packs."

"Why would we need to know about them? It's not like it matters to us."

April rolled her eyes at him. "Because there's more to the world than just this little mountain. It'll be interesting! Besides, who else is going to talk to him?"

Harper gave her a shrug. "Okay then, if that's what you want. I'm going to go get something to eat. See you on that patrol of ours later?"

April hesitated as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Aren't you even a little bit curious about who he is?"

"Nope," Harper said. "If it matters Ingrid will let us know. If not, I'd rather spend today doing something worthwhile."

"Yeah, sure." April poked out her tongue at him as he stepped away. "I'll just waste my day being nice to strangers, I guess."

Harper chuckled and waved her off. "I'll see you later."

Perhaps it really was a waste of her time. Harper had only been joking, but she couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at his dismissive attitude, especially after the uncomfortable moment they'd shared inside. She'd gotten in trouble before when her curious streak had led to her flaunting the pack's rules, but there was nothing wrong with just talking to an outsider, surely?

Blackthorn's stern gaze followed her all the way down the path from her cabin to the central fire, and she made sure to give him a nudge with her elbow as she passed by. He cleared his throat audibly and tried to correct his flinch without making it obvious, but she saw the smile on the newcomer's lips as he looked their way.

"Don't worry about Blackthorn," she said as she sat down on the bench beside the weatherbeaten, dark-haired man. "He used to boss us all around when we were little, too. He was the big boy, so he had to be all "responsible" for everyone."

The outsider smiled again, and Blackthorn turned away as though he hadn't heard the comment.

"Well it's nice to know there's at least one friendly face here," he said. "I'm Cyan." He held out his hand and she took it with a grin, a little surprised by the firmness of his grip, the hard callouses of his fingers digging into her skin like claws.

"April. Pleased to meet you!"

He looked a few years her senior, but couldn't have been older than thirty. A rough coating of stubble lined his jaw, and his eyes shone a light, almost amber shade of brown. Though his thick black hair was a little wild and long, she thought it suited him nicely. After all, if he was a wild lone wolf he might as well look the part.

"Are you from one of the forest packs?" She asked, curiosity tingling inside her.

"Take your pick," he replied. "I've been with just about all of them at one point or another. I take it you don't get much news from the outside world up here?"

She shook her head. "I was a teenager the last time we had any outsiders come to visit."

Cyan whistled. "And there was me thinking the forest was cut off from civilisation..."

"Hey, we can't all be world travellers. Some of us have homes to go to." April winced. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"It's fine. I'd have a home if I wanted one. Sometimes it's just hard to settle down."

"Try telling that to everyone here," she said. "Settling down's pretty much the story of our lives. Not that that's bad, of course," she added hastily.

Cyan nodded, gazing into the fire as he held out his hands to warm them. Thin scars traced his muscular forearms, and when April's eyes flicked up to his face she saw the firelight glinting off what looked like faint claw marks running across his nose and cheek.

She shivered, wondering again whether Harper had been right about avoiding this man. There was nobody like this in the Highland Pack.

"So... what are the other packs like?" She piped up again, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Full of werewolves." Cyan turned towards her with a disarming smile. "In all honesty they don't seem much different to your pack from what I've seen so far. Some of them like the comforts of home, some prefer tents and bushes, but... They all keep to themselves, for the most part. Everyone tries to dig out their own little corner of the world."

"So what are they like? C'mon, I want to know! Tell me about the Wood Pack, they're the largest, right?"

Cyan let out a sigh, but it seemed reflective rather than perplexed. "They're the largest, and the oldest so far as I know. Good people. They make camp in an old logging ground, and if there's anything close to a civilised society of werewolves, they're it. I learned a lot while I was with them. Then there's the Wild Pack—"

"I haven't heard of them before," April cut in. "Are they new?"

"Yes," Cyan nodded, then moved quickly on. "We'll have to wait and see how they turn out. Anyway, the River Pack are the closest ones to the mountain here. They managed to find a huge waterfall cave to make their den in. I was almost tempted to stay there just for the ambience, but they barely know how to hunt. I didn't feel like settling down as a fisherman werewolf." He nodded at one of the others carrying over a skewer of rabbit ready for roasting once the fire burned down. "You like to hunt?"

"Only when I don't have to use my teeth." She pulled a face. "I have one of those weird inner wolves who isn't fond of the taste of blood."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Cyan said. "You don't seem like the bloodthirsty hunter look would suit you."

April snorted in amusement. "Whereas you probably know all about it?"

"My wolf's always enjoyed a good hunt." He bobbed his head. "Anyway, those three are the main forest packs right now, all going strong."

"Isn't there one more? What about the Mine Pack?"

Cyan grimaced. "Not a pack worth remembering. They're as good as gone now, ever since they got greedy for more territory and started making enemies. Just count yourself lucky you didn't start out as one of them." His face darkened, and he went back to staring into the flames.

April's apprehension returned as she watched him. From the bitterness in his voice, it didn't take much to figure out which pack Cyan had come from originally. The Highland Pack might have had its flaws, but there were certainly far worse places for a werewolf to end up. Not everyone was able to cling to their grip on humanity like her people were.

"It sounds like you've been through a lot," she said."

"I'm sure your pack has too." He shook his head. "Don't worry about me, I'm nothing special."

"Are you planning on staying with us?"

"Maybe." He paused, pensive. "At least for a little while. I'll probably move on again before long, I always seem to these days."

April nodded, a little disappointed. It had been so long since anyone new had joined their community, she would have been glad for the opportunity to welcome a new face. She wasn't sure what to make of Cyan just yet, but he seemed like a seasoned and mature werewolf. Despite the cautious nature of her pack mates, deep down she didn't feel as though they had any real reason to be afraid of this newcomer.

"About your pack," he said, leaning towards her and nodding in Blackthorn's direction. "Any touchy instincts I should be worried about?"

April grinned and shook her head. "Nothing you need to tread on eggshells for. Blackthorn just likes structure and orders, but he's not a bad guy."

She thought back fondly to the time she and Harper had first learned about instincts, the overriding, single-minded desires that manifested themselves differently in each werewolf. It was almost a coming of age for those of them who were born this way, learning to commune with their inner wolf and feeling one animal instinct grow stronger than the rest until it became a defining part of their personality. Harper's instinct was the desire to prove himself, to one-up whatever he'd done before, to conquer new goals. In their childhood years he'd always wanted to climb higher and higher up the mountain, take the more perilous paths, race to get home just a little bit quicker than the last time. When one of their adventures together had left him with a broken leg, Ingrid had sat them down and explained patiently that his developing instinct was going to be a part of him for the rest of his life, and that he would need to learn to rein it in if he didn't want to end up with any more broken bones in the years to come.

These days it was why he was so eager for their mating, so ready for children even though they were still young. He wanted to take the next step in his life, to prove to himself that he would make a good mate and father, and to satisfy the niggling urge of his instinct.

"And what about you?" Cyan said. "Or is your instinct just to be friendly?"

April flushed, caught a little off balance by the directness of his question. Instincts were a very intimate thing to ask someone about up front.

"If you don't want to tell me that's fine," Cyan added. "I understand it's personal."

"No, it's not that." April shook her head. "It's just..." She looked his way, biting her lip. "Mine's not very fun."

"Not very fun? I've never heard that one before."

She sighed. "I mean, it isn't very interesting. Everyone's instinct is always— I don't know, it feels like it's them, while mine is a whole bunch of... bleh."

Cyan waited for her to carry on, and she gave him a sheepish look before continuing.

"I just like to nest. You know, make a home. Get cosy. Have everything be just right. It agitates me when things don't fit into my world view the way they're supposed to."

"That's a good instinct. I'd be much happier if that was all my wolf ever wanted."

"Yeah, that's what everyone here says too." April sighed. "But I'm still interested in other things. I'd love to visit the other packs some day, even go down into the city with all the regular people, but it's like my wolf just wants to be a good little stay-at-home girl for the pack. Every time I get the urge to try something new I end up reminding myself that it's best to just settle down and keep things the way they are. I don't know, maybe it's better that way. At least I don't end up getting into trouble as much as I did before my instinct was there to hold me back."

"You're probably right," Cyan said. "It sounds like you've got a good life here. Was that your mate I saw you with earlier?"

"No," April responded quickly. "Well— yes. I mean, he will be. We're not mated yet."

"Everything a young werewolf could want."

"Yeah..." April tucked in her boots against the bench, giving herself a reprimanding huff. "Sorry, I probably sound silly going on about it to you. I guess my human side still has some growing up to do. I've spent half this time talking about myself."

"Not at all, I like to listen," Cyan said. "And it's nice to have someone to welcome me to the community. I can't recommend leaving all this behind to go and visit the forest packs and the city, but I've got plenty of stories to share about them if you want."

April smiled. "I'd like that. It'll be fun to have some new stories to tell around the fire for once."

Cyan returned the smile, swinging his legs over the log with a groan to warm the back of his damp shirt against the flames. "Don't let me keep you all morning, I'm feeling nice and welcome now. It was good meeting you, April."

"You too, Cyan," she said, rising from her seat and tucking her jacket in close as a gust of wind blew through the camp. "I'm going to hold you to that storytelling session later."

* * * * *

Cyan wasn't sure what to make of the Highland Pack after his first morning spent with them. If it hadn't been for his conversation with April he might have been thinking about moving on already.

It was clear that their closed community wasn't used to outsiders. The other werewolves spoke in hushed tones whenever he was near, keeping to themselves and sending suspicious glances his way when they thought he wasn't looking.

He could handle suspicion, but something about the Highland Pack unsettled him. It felt as though most of them had been cut off from the outside world for so long that they barely even recognised him as a person. It wasn't unusual for a werewolf packs to be insular, but this went above and beyond the usual territorial instincts.

He was eager to speak with Ingrid again. The leadership structure they had here—three elders and no alpha—intrigued him, and he was hopeful that another conversation with April might help the others warm up to him.

The only other person he'd interacted with was Blackthorn, who treated him with politeness and respect, even if the stern wolf did seem to have one suspicious eye on him at all times.

Cyan was shown to an empty cabin at the end of a rocky ravine that led off from the main area, sheltered from the elements by steep cliffs on either side that sloped inwards. It was quiet and isolated, and that suited Cyan just fine.

He was uncomfortable around the hubbub of the busy pack. It stirred too many unwanted memories of a time when he'd had to deal with that many people on a regular basis.

After eating he slept an exhausted, dreamless sleep on his hard mattress while the rest of his clothes dried in front of the cabin's small fireplace, waking mid way through the afternoon. As tired as he was, he could never sleep for long, and his inner wolf was itching to be acknowledged.

He dressed and extinguished the fire, washing his face with water from a jug that some helpful soul had left outside his door while he slept.

The snow was falling thick and fast by the time he stepped out of the ravine and back into the main camp. A heavy carpet of white flakes had already settled despite the rain, and even the large fire from earlier was beginning to sizzle and gutter as snow blew in beneath the creaking gazebo.

He hung back, watching the camp for a moment as he caught sight of Blackthorn standing in the middle of the main gravel path, blocking the camp's exit. April and her mate-to-be were talking to him, but he seemed reluctant to let them pass. Finally he relented, and the pair hurried off into the gathering snow while Blackthorn turned his stern gaze back to the few hangers-on around the main fire.

Slipping off the path and behind the nearest cabin Cyan made his way around the camp, moving from tree to tree until he had circumvented Blackthorn, hoping that the snow would cover his tracks before anyone noticed them. He buttoned up the collar of his jacket, curling his fingers into fists against the cold, and set off at a jog away from the camp. His wolf was getting impatient.

Just wait, he told it. Not long now. I'll let you off your leash, but not near these people. He grit his teeth and picked up the pace.

If only he'd had an instinct as boring as April's.

* * * * *

"Maybe Blackthorn was right," April called to her partner as she picked her way through the snow, clutching at the insides of her mittens for warmth. "We won't be able to find anything in this weather."

"There's still time!" Harper called back, flashing her a smile over his shoulder, windswept flecks of snow peppering his hair. "Come on, we'll go up to the bridge and see if there are any scents to follow."

"That's a long way. What if we get stuck out there?"

"We'll stay in the hunting cabin, then I'll have you all to myself till the weather dies down."

April smiled beneath her scarf. She didn't like the idea of spending the night away from the pack, but maybe some quality time with Harper would be good for her.

"You'll be lucky to find any kind of scent in this weather," a deep voice called from behind her, and April turned around to see Cyan striding out of the snow, his jacket buttoned up to the neck, teeth grit against the cold.

"What are you doing out here?" Harper said, and took a step back to put a hand on April's shoulder.

Cyan grunted. "Hunting. If I'm going to sit around and eat your food the least I can do is replace it. Know any good spots nearby?"

Harper's hand relaxed a little, and he pointed down the mountain slope to the south. "There's hares in the forest down that way."

April gave their new companion a welcoming nod and eased Harper's hand off her shoulder. "Harper, this is Cyan. Cyan, Harper. We're just off on a little patrol. We've got feral wolves in the mountains around here, and Blackthorn likes to know whenever they get too close."

"Mm, I gathered," Cyan said, his eyes flicking towards Harper. "Are they dangerous?"

"Sometimes." April's partner shrugged. "We've had... accidents in the past. They keep their distance as long as we scare them off every once in a while, though."

"Well be careful out there. You'll have a hard time catching their scent in this weather."

"We will." April smiled. "Harper knows what he's doing." She patted her partner's arm, and they turned to carry on the way they'd been going. Cyan's eyes met hers for a moment, and she caught a glimmer of concern in his gaze.

Her skin warmed slightly at the intensity of the look, but a moment later he was gone, shifting into his wolf form—a shaggy, muscular, dark-furred beast—and bounding off down the slope towards the hunting grounds before another word could pass between them.

Despite her assurance that Harper knew what he was doing, part of April was relieved to have an experienced traveller like Cyan out here as well. He was right, it would be hard to pick up scents in this weather, especially after the earlier rain, and the prospect of running into feral wolves in the middle of a blizzard unnerved her.

They had always been taught never to be frightened of the ferals, to stand up to them and assert their dominance, but ever since the previous winter...

As Harper had said, accidents happened. There was a reason the pack was down to three elders now instead of four.

* * * * *

The scent of April still clung in his nostrils like sweet spice. He should have put more distance between them before taking his wolf form.

The wind ripped at his black fur as he tore down the slope, baring his wickedly sharp teeth against the cold air as his paws flung up flurries of snow, claws tearing at the damp grass beneath.

She's different, his thoughts whispered, the voice entirely that of his wolf now. Cyan the human was the one in the back of his head, the quiet voice of reason trying to calm him and sooth his feral instincts. He didn't want to be soothed. He wanted to be free, wild, taking what he desired, unleashing the alpha that the human part of him had kept buried for so long.

Not like the other wolves here. Remember her scent. She could be yours, like the one you let escape from you—

Cyan barked, shaking his head sharply as though the human side of him had given a sudden, vicious yank on an invisible leash.

Those were thoughts he shouldn't be allowing himself to indulge in. Even the feral part of him felt the regret of those memories tugging at his heart like a razor-sharp noose, cutting and terrible.

He buried his muzzle in the snow, hot breath melting the flakes as he snorted and snuffled, trying to purge the enticing scent of the red-haired girl and pick up any trace of fresh prey.

It was hard relying on his nose these days. The scars across his muzzle were a painful reminder of everything he'd left behind, and his wolf's keen sense of smell had never quite been the same ever since the day he gotten them.

His eyes and ears, however, were sharper than ever. A flicker of movement, almost indistinguishable from the carpet of snow, caught his attention, and his pointed ears pricked up, the dark wolf lowering his body to the ground. He could hear the drumming of tiny feet against the ground through the swirl and patter of snowflakes, and a moment later he caught sight of the hare's pointed ears poking up from behind a white-tipped tangle of branches.

He eased forward, his powerful muscles rolling smoothly with oiled precision as he stalked the critter, catching its dull scent on the wind and latching on to the smell. He bared his teeth, anticipation building in his chest as he closed the distance between him and his quarry. He fancied he could almost hear its heartbeat pounding in his ears, taste the fresh blood on his tongue already.

The human voice in the back of his head was gone now. This was his moment, all of his previous doubts and concerns swept away by the thrill of the hunt.

The hunt. The pursuit. The chase.

But there was only one part of it that truly mattered: the victory.

That was his instinct. The desire to dominate, control, and claim. It had been the perfect instinct to make him alpha of his own pack so long ago, and the perfect instinct to drive him to the terrible things that had branded him the outcast he was now.

It was also his instinct that had kept him alive in the wilderness well past the point at which most others would have given up and died.

The hare's ears flicked away from him, and he took his chance, coiling his body for the pounce, rising up over the fallen branches with his teeth bared, amber eyes fixed on his prey as he approached from its blind spot.

A dull growl rumbled in the back of his throat, and at the last moment the white snowshoe flicked its head around to see the black wolf looming out of the snow.

Cyan lunged, his teeth flashed, and it was over in an instant. The hare's hot blood filled his mouth, the taste of it bathing his tongue and flooding his muzzle as the creature twitched one last time, the savage pleasure of the successful hunt pumping through his veins stronger than any rush of adrenaline.

He dropped the hare on the crimson-spattered snow, raising his head to the sky as a savage howl of elation rose in the back of his throat.

His world shrunk down to a pinpoint of a moment. There was only him, his prey, and the coppery taste of blood, hot and fresh on his breath.

For a few seconds nothing else mattered. He couldn't remember April, or the Highland Pack, or all of the things that had come before. For once his wolf was satisfied, and the primal feeling of victory that gripped him was more satisfying than the sweetest kiss of any lover.

But it was over far too quickly. One hare was no great conquest, and the wolf was thirsty for more.

He licked the blood from his muzzle, keen eyes flicking back and forth across his snowswept surroundings with renewed energy. The human voice in the back of his head returned, a nuisance that threatened to remind him of all the things he'd been able to forget for a few blissful moments, but he pushed it away, sniffing the air for the scent of fresh prey.

Even his dull sense of smell felt crisp and keen in the aftermath of the first kill, and after kicking a drift of snow over the dead hare and making a mental note of where it lay he set off into the trees again, prowling on silent paws with his ears pricked and muscles tensed.

* * * * *

April clutched her jacket tight to her body, the chill of the wind cutting far more keenly than it had before.

"We should go back," she called to Harper through the blizzard. He was striding ahead, almost leaving her behind in his hurry. This wasn't how she'd planned on spending time with him, but something had caught the attention of his inner wolf. Like a phantom scent, he was pursuing it with dogged determination, all but forgetting about her as he strode through the ankle-deep snow.

"Harper!" she called again, and he glanced over his shoulder, frowning.

"What?"

"You're not even listening to me up there. What are we looking for?"

"I thought I saw tracks a while back."

"In this snow?" She raised her eyebrows. "They could've been anyone's."

He shook his head. "I want to check, just to be sure. Come on, we're almost at the ridge."

April caught him by the arm as he started to turn away. "You don't have to go chasing down wild wolves to impress me. The snow's getting worse. If we don't head back soon we'll be stuck out here."

He shrugged off her hand, a touch too sharply. "We're almost there," he repeated, and set off down the foot-worn path again, boots crunching through the snow loudly amidst the whistle of the wind.

April swallowed the growing lump of anxiety in her throat, waiting for a moment to see if he'd turn back, but knowing it was pointless.

He was stubborn, especially when he felt like he had something to prove. She wished she hadn't said anything that morning. If she'd just played along like everything was fine, settled into her expected role of doting mate, everything would have been so much easier for her...

She blinked her eyes against the stinging wind and fell in behind Harper, hurrying to catch up as loose locks of red hair blew into her face.

"Harper, I—" she had barely begun before her partner shifted into his wolf form, light brown fur spreading across his body in place of his clothing as his body changed in one fluid motion. In the blink of an eye he was on all fours, sniffing the ground intently as her apology died on her lips.

For all the things a wolf could do better than a human, having conversations wasn't one of them.

She looked away, rubbing her eyes as though the wind was bothering her again, waiting for him to catch the scent of whatever trail he was following.

If there was even a scent to follow

* * * * *

Cyan heard April's voice somewhere in the distance, only for a moment, but his ears pricked up at the sound of her and her partner conversing for a few seconds. He growled, the intrusion of their voices an unwelcome reminder of the human way of life he would soon be forced to return to. He would have loved nothing more than to stay out here hunting until night fell and he was free to curl up in some cosy crag in the mountains to sleep.

But at the same time her voice enticed him. It had been a long time since he'd slept with the warm body of a female beside him, and longer still since he'd dreamt about the possibility of a mate—

He jerked his head to the side with a snort, startling away the critter he'd been stalking through the bushes. The human part of him was getting impatient. It wouldn't be long before it forced him to shift back, and then who knew how long he'd have to go without the taste of fresh blood and the thrill of the hunt to satisfy him again. He dared to challenge the human in the back of his mind a moment longer, baring his teeth and listening for the sound of April's voice again, but it was gone, lost amongst the wind.

With another snort he lowered his muzzle back to the snow, trying to pick up the scent of his escaped prey again.

There it was. Thin and musky, and mixed with... something else.

His furred brow furrowed, and he sniffed again, focusing in on the fainter scent lingering beneath the first. It was definitely an animal, but not one of the hares he'd been stalking so far.

He took a few paces forward and sniffed again, before brushing away a tangle of bushes with his muzzle to reveal the bare soil beneath. It was still wet, sheltered from the snow by the undergrowth, and a clear set of paw prints in the earth led off in tandem with the strange scent he'd picked up. They were unmistakably those of a wolf, and if he could still smell their owner's trail in this weather then they must have passed by recently.

The fur prickled on the back of his neck. The scent lacked any of the usual human touches carried by a werewolf; the scent of fabric or leather or woodsmoke. Whoever's trail he was following, he doubted it belonged to anyone from the Highland Pack.

His ears flicked back in the direction he'd heard the voices coming from, the conflict between his human and animal sides forgotten as concern for his fellow werewolves crept in to replace it.

Still nothing but the sound of the wind.

Narrowing his eyes he lowered his shaggy body close to the ground, prowling forward through the undergrowth with barely a sound as he kept the faint scent fresh in his nostrils, eyes fixed on the pawprints leading away from him, in the same direction April and Harper had been headed.

* * * * *

The wind wailed through the hidden crags in the side of the mountain, carrying phantom sounds to April's ears as she jogged, shivering, behind Harper.

She was worried now. They'd come a long way from the camp. The sky was darkening, and the snow was so thick that a return journey might prove impossible before the weather let up.

Harper stopped suddenly, standing stock still with his head held high, staring directly ahead.

"What is it?" April said, her eyes flicking nervously through the flurry of snow shrouding the path in front of them.

Harper shifted back into his human form and took a step back, breathing heavily. "It's one of the ferals, I'm sure of it. I recognise his scent."

"So there _was_ a scent," April muttered.

"Of course there was." Harper looked back at her. "We can catch up to him if we're quick, scare him off back to the other side of the bridge."

"We don't have to, it's freezing out here Harper! Let's just go back and tell Blackthorn. The ferals won't bother us in this weather anyway. They're probably just as cold as I am."

"Why leave it with Blackthorn when we can handle it ourselves?" Harper replied with a note of irritation in his voice. "Let's deal with it now. It's just one of them, I can handle him."

"I'm not saying you can't," April sighed. "I'm saying you don't _need_ to. Can't we just go home and get cosy by a nice fire?"

"Later. Come on, we're close to the bridge now." Harper shifted back into his wolf form before she could respond, giving her an impatient bark before hurrying off.

It wasn't far to the bridge. April saw the robust wooden archway silhouetted in the distance, stretching from one side of the jagged ravine that cut across the mountain path to the other. It was the only safe way on this side of the mountain to reach the higher slopes, and it marked what most considered the border of Highland Pack territory. Beyond lay cold and unwelcoming terrain, the place where they were happy to let the ferals roam free so long as they never crossed over to this side.

This time, it seemed, Harper had been right. At the near end of the bridge a gaunt looking wolf stood with his head bowed, either tearing at some fresh prey or digging in the frozen ground as he snuffled and growled into the snow.

April stopped, crouching down to stay out of sight, her breathing quick and anxious as she looked to Harper.

Her partner bared his teeth, and before she could stop him he barked savagely, the feral wolf jerking its head up in an instant to look their way.

_Just run away. Just run,_ April pleaded to herself. _Just get this over with so we can go back._

She was no fighter, but she couldn't leave Harper to handle it by himself if the wolf decided to stand its ground.

The creature stared at them in silence, eyes shining through the blizzard like a rabbit trapped in headlights. April's hands bunched into fists inside her mittens, her eyes watering from the wind, but she didn't dare blink.

Just run. Please just run.

Harper growled and lunged forward, and April let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding as the feral turned and bolted, streaking across the bridge without a backwards glance.

"Harper, no!" she exclaimed as her partner immediately gave chase, his paws throwing up flurries of snow as he bounded after the fleeing wolf.

He didn't need to do this. He didn't need to prove anything to her. Why couldn't his damn instinct just let him stop and slow down for one moment?!

She stumbled after him, the snow tugging at her boots and threatening to trip her with each step as Harper raced to the end of the bridge and turned to cross it, the feral already out of sight on the far side.

Something thudded into the snow beside April, and a grinding _crack_ of splitting stone cut through the air from the mountain slope above them. She spun around, confused, her feet still moving in the direction of the bridge as dull panic built in her chest, feeling that something terrible was about to happen that her mind hadn't quite realised yet.

She cried out as another scatter of dislodged pebbles landed beside her, followed by a thick sheet of snow rumbling off the overhanging rocks above them and crashing against the side of the bridge, chunks of shale skidding across the wood inches in front of Harper amidst a flood of white.

He finally stopped, slipping on the snow and snapping his head around, surprise and confusion registering on his animal features as April shrieked his name. He looked back across the bridge, and she followed his gaze to see the eyes of the feral waiting, watching, hanging back just beyond where the wooden boards ended.

Harper let out a savage bark and bounded forward, ignoring the snow and scattered rocks beneath his paws as he ran across the bridge.

It wasn't far to the other side, but it was further than it would have been to turn back.

April could only watch, her mind blank, barely registering, as another cascade of soil and rock tore itself from the slope above, the main avalanche crashing down against the bridge just as Harper was about to make it to the other side. She lost him in the confusion of falling snow and soil and rocks, the sound of tearing wood reaching her ears over the rumble of the avalanche as a gigantic boulder tore a chunk from the side of the bridge, the outline of tangled boards and rails flailing through the air as they fell into the ravine along with rocks and roots, and the shape of a single, light-furred wolf.

April stumbled forwards on legs that refused to work, her panic rising with the deafening sound of the rockslide until she felt sick. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the bridge, hoping that what she'd seen falling hadn't been there.

The rumbling dimmed, pebbles and snowflakes peppering her hair until only the sound of rocks clacking off the sides of the ravine far below echoed through the blizzard. For a moment her heart leapt as she saw a pair of shining eyes watching her through the snow, but they weren't the eyes of her partner. The feral wolf watched her solemnly from the far side of the bridge, the creaking wooden boards between them a mess of splintered wood and fallen rubble, but nothing more.

Harper was gone.

The cold chilled April to the bone. Despite her warm clothes and mittens she shook uncontrollably, the dying light turning the white landscape grey and lonely. In the blink of an eye her whole world had changed, leaving her alone and vulnerable in the middle of the swirling blizzard, darkness creeping in around her as the cold worked its way between the folds of her clothing.

Her throat was tight with a frozen sob, one that felt like it would tear her apart if she let it out.

Harper was gone. He was dead. He would never—

April clutched at handfuls of the powdery snow through her mittens, eyes wide and watering, refusing to think about her childhood friend's empty cabin, her empty future without him, all the conversations around the fire they'd never be able to have.

She shuffled backwards, away from the creaking bridge, leaving a messy trail through the snow as her trembling muscles tried to get her away from the terrible site of what had just happened.

She felt like a helpless child, abandoned and alone in the wilderness, deprived of the comforting hand she'd always been able to cling to for support.

Ahead of her the feral wolf prowled back across the bridge, no longer afraid now that its pursuer was gone. Its eyes were fixed on April, hungry and unblinking as it climbed over the fallen rubble and snow scattering the planks, skirting around the smashed section of the bridge on agile paws. A thin howl joined the whistle of the wind, and two more dark shapes crept out of the blizzard on the far side of the bridge, padding silently after the first wolf as it approached.

April struggled to get to her feet, but panic sapped the strength from her muscles and she tripped back into the snow with a whimper, trying in vain to summon the survival instincts of her wolf to the surface. She could see the gaunt frame of the first wolf clearly now as he approached; a male, wild and savage, yellowing teeth bared in aggression.

She needed her wolf's legs to run, but how could she run? Harper was gone, and her stomach was still in free fall, flailing and twisting in an uncontrollable panic.

His pawprints were still there in front of her, clear and still until the feral stepped across them, scattering snow across the last trail left by her partner.

She met the feral's gaze, hot tears finally spilling from her eyes as she clutched handfuls of hard snow through her mittens, lips pressed together tight as she willed her wolf to awaken. Somewhere deep down she still had that burning need for survival, and right now it was the only thing she could latch on to for support.

The sound of soft paws crumpling the snow behind her reached her ears, and she twisted around expecting to see a fourth feral, but the creature standing over her was no wild beast.

He'd crept out of the blizzard without a sound, Cyan's amber eyes shining against his jet black fur as he stepped in front of April, putting himself between her and the other wolf.

The feral gave a nervous bark, suddenly hesitant, but he didn't turn and flee this time. The two others were coming up behind him, spreading out to encircle their prey as they crouched down on their haunches, ready to pounce. There were still three of them, and Cyan was all by himself.

April struggled to will her wolf to the surface, but her dark protector's sudden arrival had broken her concentration, sending her thoughts and stomach plummeting once more as though they had tumbled off the bridge along with Harper.

She couldn't help Cyan, and he couldn't help her all by himself.

The first wolf lunged, but Cyan moved like lightning, catching the feral's neck between his teeth with a vicious snarl and hurling the creature aside with the kind of strength April had never before seen in a werewolf.

The second two darted in fast, one sinking his teeth into Cyan's flank while the other locked jaws with him. Again the dark-furred male twisted ferociously, the sheer power of his body sending both wolves stumbling through the snow as he threw them off, spinning around and taking a few steps back so that he was facing all three of them.

There was blood on the snow, but April couldn't tell whether it belonged to Cyan or his attackers. The three ferals were hesitant and confused, thrown off guard by the strength of their opponent, but their rabid hunger still burned in their eyes.

They came at him again, and he sent one reeling with a staggering cuff from his forepaw before the remaining two went for his throat. He snapped his jaws at one, drawing more blood and sending it scuttling back with a yowl of pain and a torn ear, but the remaining feral latched its jaws around his shoulder and held on tight, snarling and digging its paws into the ground to try and drive him back.

Rather than trying to twist away again Cyan scrabbled to find his own footing, pushing back against the wolf so suddenly that it tripped and fell, legs slipping out from beneath it as it was bulled over by the force of Cyan's response.

They came at him again and again, but every time the larger wolf drove them back with such ferocity that he almost seemed like a wild beast himself.

April watched, frozen with cold and fear, until at last the male feral turned and ran, streaking back across the bridge and disappearing into the snow. A distant howl cut through the air and a moment later the remaining two followed, battered and bloody.

Cyan's body heaved as he gasped for breath, one of his forelegs giving out beneath him as he slumped forward against the ground. April finally dragged herself out of the furrow her body had carved in the snow, crawling forward on hands and knees to rest a hand on his side in silent thanks, but the moment her fingertips touched his shaggy fur he shrugged her off with a snort, stumbling to his feet again and shifting back into his human form.

"I'm fine," he panted, gripping her hand tight as he tried to help her up. "Can you walk?"

"I don't know," April responded, her voice sounding as numb as her body felt. "Harper fell."

"I know." Cyan sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "I saw. But we can't stay here. I don't know if I'll be able to fight them off again."

April gave him a small nod, clutching at his hand through her mittens, afraid to let go even as the snow trapped between their palms began to melt and soak through the fabric. She dragged herself to her feet, leaning against him as she forced her heavy legs to move forward, tears still running down her cheeks, a sob still buried in her chest, but unable to come out.

* * * * *

Cyan was ready to collapse after the fight with the ferals. His body ached from the bites in his shoulder and hip, but neither of them were serious. A human might have needed a doctor, but he knew his werewolf body would begin to heal the damage by itself within the hour. He'd been pushed to the brink of physical endurance before, and he wasn't about to give in now, not when there was more than his own life at stake.

He let April lean on him, supporting her with an arm around her shoulders even though the effort of doing so tore at his injured muscles as though the ferals were sinking their teeth into him all over again.

They would have been much faster in their wolf forms, safer from the biting cold as well, but he wouldn't be able to support April on four legs. He doubted she could even summon the will to shift shape at this point. She seemed numb, vacant, and that was always the most dangerous way for a person to be after suffering such a loss. Harper had just been another werewolf to Cyan, another unfortunate victim, but to her... Living her isolated life up here in the mountains, had she even had to deal with the death of a loved one before?

The troublesome realisation that they wouldn't make it back to the camp at this pace crept up on Cyan until it forced him to speak. Night was falling fast, and the pair of them might freeze by the time they stumbled back to the warm cabins of the Highland Pack.

"We won't make it back to camp like this," he said. "I need you to take your wolf form, if you can."

At first April didn't seem to hear him, her eyes fixed ahead as she clung to his arm, but just as he was about to repeat the question she spoke.

"There's a hunting cabin near here. Off the path. This way." She tugged his arm to the left and they stumbled their way off the path, heading further into the blizzard towards the rocky mountain face.

Her voice had sounded so fragile and distant, a million miles away from the eager, friendly girl that had welcomed him to the camp that morning. The _only_ one that had welcomed him.

His chest tightened for a moment and he grit his teeth, ignoring the pain and pushing onward. He would do everything he could to get her back to her people safe. For her moment of kindness, she'd earned at least that much from him.

"How do you feel?" he said, though he felt like any kind of conversation was pointless right now. It was painfully obvious how she must be feeling. All he could do was get her somewhere safe and keep an eye on her until morning. This was something she'd have to deal with by herself over the coming weeks and months. Maybe even for the rest of her life.

He didn't know her. What could he do to make the loss of her partner any easier for the girl?

"I want to cry," April said in a thin voice, almost lost amidst the howling of the wind. "But I can't... I can't stand it."

_You'll cry soon,_ Cyan thought. _And again, and again. But each time it'll get a little more bearable._ He didn't share his thoughts aloud, but he tightened his fingers around her shoulder, giving the shivering girl a squeeze.

Thankfully it wasn't far to the hunting cabin. Cyan would have preferred to put a little more distance between them and the feral wolves, but the cabin was sturdy, and the wind and snow would help to mask their scent.

The building was built on wooden stilts a few feet off the ground with a short set of wooden stairs leading to the door, presumably to keep it from being buried in snow drifts. Cyan helped April to the door before collecting a few heavy blocks of firewood from a pile behind the cabin and following her in. It was pitch black inside, the only window covered with heavy shutters to keep the cold out. April fumbled her way to the table and pressed a box of matches into his hand before slumping down in the corner.

By the light of a match he closed the heavy door and bolted it shut, cutting out the howl of the wind and plunging them into silence as he searched for a lamp or some candles, the sounds of his and April's heavy breathing feeling oppressively intimate in the dark cabin.

He found an old paraffin lamp by the door, but by the feel of it there was barely any fuel left, and after lighting it he made his way straight to the stone fireplace. In the dim light he could see April was huddled up against a heap of soft animal hides beside him, and a coarse rug lay beneath their feet. Besides the table, a pair of stools, and a trunk in the corner, the cabin didn't have much in the way of furniture.

After he had kindled a fire and fed in one of the hunks of wood he'd brought from outside Cyan sat down beside April, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally let his aching body rest, grateful for the warmth of the flames and the pile of furry animal hides behind him.

"Do you want to talk about him?" he said at last. "I know I wouldn't want to be alone with my thoughts on a night like this."

April nodded unsteadily, looking into the fire.

"Who was he?" Cyan said. "How did the two of you end up together?"

"He was my best friend when we were little. My only friend, really," April replied. She sounded as though she was on the verge of tears, but at least she was talking. That was good. "I mean, there was Blackthorn, too, but he was more like an older brother. Harper was—" She stopped, closing her eyes and pressing the back of a hand to her mouth, a sob threatening to escape. "He was the one I could always talk to. He was the one I always went on adventures with."

Cyan nodded. "And when you got older?"

"Everyone has to find a mate," she said blankly. "He was going to be mine."

"Everyone?" Cyan frowned.

"To carry on the pack. It's our duty." April stifled another sob, the tears finally spilling from the corners of her eyes. "I didn't want it," she said, her voice almost a whisper, as though she was afraid of him hearing it. "I didn't want any of it. I didn't want to be a mother, I didn't want to be mated yet, I just wanted... I just wanted everything to stay the same as it always was."

"Because of your instinct?" Cyan said.

April nodded, swallowing hard. "I suppose so, but that's no excuse. I should have been more grown up about it. I should've been happy with what everyone expected of me. I didn't want it, but I didn't want—" Her voice broke, a heart-wrenching sob escaping her chest as she shook with grief. "I didn't want this!" She buried her face in her arms, gasping for breath in between her tears as she hugged her legs close, rocking back and forth like a lost child.

Cyan put his arm around her, taking a deep breath as she leaned in to him, clutching at his jacket and burying her face in his side as she wept. He had experienced enough heartache to be dull to the random cruelties of the world by this point, but still he felt for the girl clinging to his side as her body shook with grief. She didn't deserve this.

"Don't blame yourself for feeling that way," he said. "It wasn't your fault."

"But— but I didn't want to be his mate!" she sobbed. "And now he's dead!"

"You not wanting it didn't make those rocks fall. Sometimes when you lose someone it is your own fault, but you don't have to burden yourself with what happened to Harper." Cyan paused, his throat tightening. Part of him almost wanted to tell her the truth; that there were worse ways of losing someone than watching them die, but that wouldn't do either of them any good right now.

He rubbed her shoulder gently, letting her cry into his jacket for as long as she needed, and as the minutes wore by he began to realise that he wouldn't be leaving the Highland Pack any time soon. They might not have spoken much, they might not have even known anything meaningful about one another, but some shared experiences went beyond words. He was the one who was here for April on a night she'd remember for the rest of her life, and he wouldn't be able to move on until he knew she was going to be alright.

For all of the bad things that could be said of his instinct, part of the reason he'd become an alpha in the first place had been a desire to lead others. Not just to subdue the strong, but to protect the weak as well.

Her own pack would be able to take care of her in the months to come, but right now he was all she had.

* * * * *

April cried until her chest ached, her eyes sore and puffy and her body stiff from clinging to her quiet companion for so long. She had a lot more tears to shed, and every moment brought with it a new memory of Harper that she'd never be able to relive again, but at last the exhaustion of her body overcame the pain of her emotions. She drifted in and out of a fitful doze, slumped against Cyan's lap as she held on to him for comfort.

She didn't know what she would have done without him. She'd be dead, torn apart by the feral wolves, or huddling here by herself with nobody to numb the pain of losing the person she'd been closest to in the world; not as a lover, but as a friend.

If only they could have stayed friends. Perhaps then Harper wouldn't have needed to prove himself to her, or to himself.

Why couldn't everything have just stayed the way it was?

April couldn't keep track of time, but the cabin was still dark and the wind still howling when she opened her eyes. She looked up at Cyan, her fingers still clutching at his jacket and her head resting against his thigh where it had fallen in an exhausted slump.

His eyes were lidded, but he was still awake, the firelight casting shadows across his face as he stared off into the distance.

"Cyan?" she whispered.

"Mhm?" His lips barely moved.

"Thank you for being here."

He shook his head faintly. "I'd have done the same for anyone."

"But... thank you." She closed her eyes tight, but no more tears came. "You're a good person."

He looked away then, gazing into the darkness of the cabin as though hesitant to meet her eyes. She eased herself up from his lap, but the loss of his warmth frightened her, made her feel alone again, and she wrapped her arms around his waist a moment later, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Have you ever lost someone?" she said softly. After a pause she felt him nod, and she squeezed tighter, her voice cracking with emotion. "A mate?"

"No." His tone was distant. "But maybe... maybe she could have been, if I'd done things differently." He shook his head. "You don't want to hear about me."

"Please?" she said. "I don't mind. I don't want to be quiet. Alone." April's chest hurt at the thought of trying to sleep again, with nothing but the memories of Harper digging into her soul like shards of ice. The loneliness would kill her, her inner wolf scrabbling around in a panic for anything familiar and comforting to latch on to. She might have had a dull instinct, but right now it was amplifying everything she felt about Harper a dozen times over, forcing her to confront not just the pain of his loss, but the terrible changes it would wreak on her safe and structured life in the days to come. Her wolf couldn't handle change on this scale, and she'd never before had her expectations of the world shattered in such a way.

"Please?" she repeated again, clutching at Cyan almost desperately. "Tell me something. Tell me one of your stories. You promised you would."

He sighed, but wrapped his arm around her again, and she snuggled into the warmth of his body.

"I don't have many happy stories to tell."

"That's fine."

Cyan paused and leaned forward to toss another hunk of wood into the fire, then settled back against the furry animal hides. "I wasn't born a werewolf like you. Most people from the forest packs aren't. When I was younger I used to spend a lot of time out by myself in the woods. I liked the peace and quiet." He rubbed the side of his neck, fingers scratching through his dark stubble. "I became part of the Mine Pack when one of them decided to take a bite out of me one evening. But I expect you already guessed that, didn't you?"

April nodded.

"They weren't a bad pack," he continued, "just so long as you always did what you were told. Never questioned any of your superiors. Never spoke up when they tormented any of the weaker members for fun. I was bigger and stronger than most of them, so I learned how to take care of myself, but a lot of the others weren't as lucky. I tried to look out for them, but it wasn't easy." He sounded weary, as though everything he spoke of had happened a whole lifetime ago. "I kept some of the weaker wolves safe by having them do everything I said. That was the only way to get things done in the Mine Pack. When I told them to keep their heads down, they had to do it. When our alpha was angry and looking for someone to punish, I'd take them out to hunt, even if it meant sleeping rough for days until I was sure it was safe to come back. That's what I thought being a good leader was back then. Making decisions and expecting everyone to obey for their own good."

"It sounds like you made the right decisions," April murmured.

"Maybe. But I started to enjoy it. I liked being in control, even if it was just a sorry handful of wolves who listened to me. Arrow—the alpha—he was getting old. He couldn't even hunt for himself any more, but he wouldn't step down and let someone younger take his place." Cyan let out a tense breath. "In the end I challenged him for leadership. I knew I could lead the pack better than him; put an end to all the terrible things him and his officers did."

"Did you win?" April said.

Cyan nodded, his expression grim. "He died a few weeks after the fight, but not before his officers could step in and drive me out for good. I couldn't stand up to all of them by myself, and the rest of the pack were too afraid to take my side."

"Was she one of them? The person you lost?"

Cyan paused for a long moment, then shook his head. "No. She came later."

"Tell me about her." April waited, but this time he didn't respond, the silence stretching out into minutes until it became uncomfortable. She tugged at his jacket, but he leaned away to toss another log into the fire, his arm slipping from around her shoulders.

"It'll get easier, April," he said, his voice now clear of the emotion that had crept into it over the course of his story. "Tonight will be bad, tomorrow might be worse, but a week from now you'll be hunting, or chopping wood, or making a meal, and for a little while it'll seem like the world's back to normal again."

"I don't see how." She swallowed hard. "I never thought— I mean, I didn't expect everyone to be around forever. Not Harriet, or Gene, or even Ingrid, but... but Harper..." Despite the prickly dryness at the corners of her eyes she felt tears coming on again, and suddenly realised how hoarse and painful her throat had become.

She forced down the painful lump of grief in her chest, though she knew it was pointless in the long run. She couldn't stifle the way she felt all night, and she wouldn't be able to sleep again without the nauseating panic rising to the surface and threatening to overwhelm her.

"I'm thirsty," she whispered.

"I'll see if there's anything in the trunk." Cyan struggled to his feet, wincing at the effort, and for a desperate moment April clung on to him, afraid to be alone without the warmth of his body close to hers. He knelt down, took her hand between his palms, and eased it off his jacket. "I'll be right back. I'm not going anywhere." He met her gaze with those solemn amber eyes of his, glowing in the firelight almost like those of his wolf. They were wild eyes, full of painful memories that reflected her own, but hardened with a determination and strength that she lacked right now.

Who was this man who had become her only island of comfort on this terrible night?

"Watch the fire," he said, nodding towards the flames as he pressed a stick of wood into her hand. She nodded, clutching it tight, and turned away from him to poke at the logs blazing in the fireplace, trying to focus on the heat pressing against her face and sting of it against her exposed knuckles. She'd taken off her mittens at some point while she dozed. She couldn't remember when. Maybe Cyan had taken them off for her.

He rummaged through the trunk in the corner of the cabin, tossing a bundle of something on the table and emerging with a metal pan in his hand. "I'll get some snow to melt, it'll just take a minute."

April nodded, but as a rush of howling wind blew in through the open door she froze, remembering the snarling ferals, the cold ground beneath her, the sight of Harper's body falling from the bridge. She clutched the stick with both hands until it hurt, screwing her eyes shut as she fought the wave of panic building inside her.

Was this how those wretched creatures had gone feral in the first place? Losing someone, or having to face something so painful that it drove the animal part of them wild, until the only refuge from it all was to retreat into the beast within them and stay there for the rest of their lives?

She opened her eyes when the heat of the flames licking up the side of her stick reached her fingers, dropping the burning piece of firewood into the grate with a gasp. The door clicked shut again, and Cyan rested a hand on her shoulder as he knelt down beside her, placing the pan full of hard-packed snow near the grate to warm.

She pressed her stinging fingers to her mouth and leaned in to him, taking strength from his presence once more. "I wouldn't have made it through tonight without you," she said with a sniffle. "Not just the wolves, but everything else, too. I've never felt this alone before, not ever."

"I won't go anywhere," he replied. "I found some dried food in the trunk. We can stay here till you're ready to go back to the camp."

"I don't want to go anywhere. I wish I could just stay here forever."

"I know," he said, "but you'll be able to face the world again eventually. Until then, just try to be brave."

They watched the fire together until the snow in the pan had melted and Cyan offered it to her for a drink. The metal edge was hot against her lips, but the water was still cool and refreshing. She shivered as it ran down her throat, soothing the pain inside her slightly, and she drank until her breath ran out and she dropped the pan back into the hearth, gasping for air.

"What am I going to do when I get back home?" she said, tears in her eyes once more. "They'll make me find a new mate. Everyone has to have one."

Cyan frowned. "Even if you don't want it?"

She nodded. "That's the way it's always been. We have to carry on the pack for the next generation."

"What if you say no?"

"No one ever says no."

"You could. I won't pretend I know your pack better than you do, but they don't seem like bad people. They wouldn't force you into it, would they?"

April shrugged, sniffing as her tears spilled down her cheeks. "It doesn't matter. I'd be betraying them. They raised me, cared for me, and they've always been there when I needed them. This is the only thing I'm expected to do in return. How do you think they'd all look at me if I refused?"

"You must have talked to some of them about this, what about Harper—"

"No!" she exclaimed with a sob, beating the heel of her palm against the floorboards. "Never! Never once, especially not with him! I'm only telling you because—" She looked up at him, her glistening eyes flitting back and forth across his face, and shook her head faintly.

"Because I'm not one of them?" he said.

"You can't tell anyone, please, Cyan, they'd hate me if they knew!"

"I won't." He cupped the back of her head, his grip firm and reassuring, and looked her in the eyes. "And I don't think they'd hate you. Believe me, there are plenty of people who'd feel the same in your position."

"Not in the Highland Pack." She dropped her gaze, her breath coming in hiccups. She clutched at the front of his jacket, her thumbs rubbing up and down the hard metal teeth of the open zip. "Maybe I'm not thinking straight." But that was a lie, wasn't it? As terrible as she felt right now, these doubts had been with her for months. Years, even. Ever since she'd realised that one day she'd be expected to take a mate and perform her required duty for the pack. Harper had made it easier for her; made it seem like they were just two friends dealing with it together, but now he was gone, along with that illusion of security.

She'd never wanted to be paired with any male from her pack in that way, not even Harper, really. How could she? They were her family. She'd grown up knowing every single one of them. She didn't want anything to change.

"Do you think this is my punishment?" she said softly. "For not wanting him as my mate?"

"I don't think anyone gets punished for how they feel, only for what they do. You went along with it despite how you felt, and you should never have had to do that in the first place."

She looked up at him again. "Do you think so?"

"You can't force someone to feel something they don't, April, and if you do it'll only end up in someone getting hurt. Believe me, I know."

She gazed into his eyes, feeling all of the pain they held, all of the conflicted emotions, and for a moment she caught a glimpse of her own heartache reflected there. He understood. The only person who ever had.

She leaned forward, tilted her head back, and kissed him.

Before she even realised what she'd done his hand was pressing against her shoulder, pushing her back with a firmness that was equal parts gentle and stern.

Their lips parted, but the taste of him lingered, so different from all the times she'd kissed Harper; like a rich woodland spice.

"No." He shook his head. "I know you might think you want it, but you don't. And I couldn't, not like this."

"But... my instinct, Cyan, it's— I just want to feel normal again. Like... like there's someone there for me."

"I'm not that person."

"You were there when I needed someone! You're still here. You're... you're not like the others."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes!" She tugged on his jacket. "I don't know if I can bear it. I don't want to go back there, not knowing what I'll have to do. I can't... Just for tonight I need someone, even if it's just to pretend."

"You'll regret it tomorrow, and I can't leave you feeling like that."

"I know, I know I will," she sobbed, leaning her forehead against his chest, wishing she could stay there forever. "I'd rather feel bad tomorrow than face the rest of tonight like this. I'm not just being emotional I— I really don't think I can bear it, Cyan. Please just be there for me?"

She was afraid. Afraid of facing a world without Harper. Afraid of the life she'd go back to once the sun came up. Afraid her grief would overwhelm her and she'd wake up tomorrow as one of those feral beasts. Cyan was there for her, and right now she needed to feel like there was someone in the world who could make it all better again.

Even if it was a lie.

* * * * *

If she'd been a human girl Cyan would have put an end to it there and then.

He felt for her, he genuinely did, and her kiss had ignited a desire in him that he'd almost forgotten. Intimacy. Someone wanting him. Someone needing him.

But she was distraught, her partner only a few hours dead, and even if April and Harper's union hadn't been all it seemed, everything about this was still wrong.

He wanted to take care of her. His inner wolf craved it, that long-buried desire to perform the duties of an alpha, tending to those that relied on him, taking control and making a choice...

He took a deep breath. "April, you don't know what you're asking me to do. It's not just what you need, your wolf's instincts, it's mine as well."

"I trust you," she said, and her words were so genuine it made his chest tight with pain.

You really shouldn't. If you knew...

He should have put a stop to it, but she wasn't a human girl, and he wasn't a human male. His animal side understood that. Though it pained him to acknowledge it, he knew he couldn't listen only to his civilised sensibilities right now.

They were werewolves. Their whole existence was a war between two minds that saw the world in two very different ways. Emotional extremes were dangerous, especially when they involved a wolf's instinct in some way. He'd seen others driven wild by experiences like this, and once or twice he'd even managed to bring a person back from the tipping point.

Stop thinking about it, listen to your instincts for once.

His instincts told him he could help her. Perhaps part of it was his own isolation, his own need for companionship—or maybe something even darker. Lust for a beautiful, vulnerable girl. He remembered stalking the hare earlier, the taste of hot blood on his lips, and the feeling of elation that had followed.

"If I do this," he said steadily, gripping her by the shoulder, "I can't promise I'll be the same person. My wolf... he wants you in a way I know I shouldn't." He snarled suddenly, turning away.

No. He couldn't. What kind of man would take advantage of this, think about his own desires with a girl whose whole life was falling apart around her?

Arpil took his head between her hands, the smooth skin of her palms brushing against his rough stubble, and he grabbed her by the jacket, muscles tensing, ready to push her away.

But he didn't. His fingers twisted through her clothing, clutching so hard it hurt, her thumbs stroking his ears as she tilted his face back towards hers. She looked into his eyes, longing, desperate, lost, and he dragged her forwards into a furious kiss.

It hurt. Tongues and teeth and lips pressing and pushing, and in an instant any weakness he'd seen in April was gone. Everything she'd been bottling up came out in that kiss, and he felt every bit of it. Her fingernails dug into the back of his neck, dragging her body against him as her hot mouth devoured his, her sweet taste of autumn blossoms flooding his senses as her tongue curled and fought with his own.

Words and tears hadn't been enough to comfort her, his inner wolf had known that. Perhaps, if their positions had been reversed, he'd have rushed out into the night and torn a wild animal apart, or fought a beast twice his size, or run for hours until his paws were bleeding and he collapsed with exhaustion. Sometimes words and tears just weren't enough; there was more that needed to come out.

He tasted the faint tang of blood where teeth had nicked at soft skin, though whether it was hers or his he couldn't tell. When their lips parted it was only for a second, the hot breath of the two werewolves mingling together as their faces hung inches apart. Then she kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip as he took her upper into his mouth, tugging with his teeth and closing his eyes as her feminine scent filled his lungs, a feral growl building at the back of his throat.

He pushed her down on the pile of furs, her fingers tearing at the front of his shirt as she dragged him down after her, and he kissed her again.

* * * * *

April welcomed the force with which he threw her down, her mouth still aching with the intensity of their kiss. She wanted his aggression. She wanted it to be painful. Anything to blot out the reality of the world right now.

Guilt, shame, fear; maybe they were all things she should have been feeling right now, but they were a dim undercurrent to the heartache of her loss, and the passionate emotions she was trying to bury it under. More than anything she wanted her world to become simple again, even if it was just for a few moments. If she could want Cyan hard enough, then maybe, just maybe...

She dragged his hunting jacket off his shoulders, shivering with a mixture of cold and desperation as she squirmed out of her own warm clothing. Cyan placed a hand on her bare shoulder as she shed her jacket, his fingers cool and calloused, and tugged the thickly furred hide they lay on around them, enclosing them together between its insulating folds. He lay on top of her, his large body encircling her petite form, thighs astride her hips and hands resting either side of her head. For a moment he seemed to hesitate, looking down at her with those painful amber eyes, and she clutched at the front of his shirt again, balling the fabric between her fists as she dragged herself upwards to kiss him, her lips meeting his chin and the roughness of his stubble, the taste of his body, the musky scent on his neck.

A growl shook his broad chest as he lowered himself against her, the gentle weight leaving her feeling helpless as he clutched at the back of her neck, twining his fingers into her hair and easing her head back so that he could kiss her delicate throat.

Her brows knitted together with a whimper, clinging on to him tight as he kissed and nicked at her pale skin with his teeth, his hunger for her so genuine that for a second she allowed herself to take genuine pleasure in it, letting out a gasp as a shiver of ecstasy ran through her body, the pain in her chest dulling faintly.

It only lasted for a second, but it was enough to let her know that she needed more. She could block out the pain, the maddening nausea of her loss, and that was the only hope she had right now.

She kissed Cyan's ear furiously as he buried his face in the side of her neck, clutching at his hair as she grit her teeth, pressing her body up against the hardness between his legs and the firm contours of his muscles. She felt the same wild strength in him that she'd glimpsed when he fought off the ferals, urgent and relentless, guiding her into position for him and parting her thighs with his knees even before she'd begun to squirm out of her jeans.

He straightened up slightly and yanked off his shirt in one smooth motion, her own top following a moment later to expose her soft white breasts and bare stomach, his roughly tanned complexion contrasting against her pale skin as he slid his hands up her body as though claiming every bit of it. Another gasp escaped her lips as he squeezed her breasts hard, the texture of his fingers almost scratching her as he slid one hand around her back to press between her shoulderblades, lifting her up into another kiss that sent his tongue deep into her mouth, enveloping and caressing her own as she let the shivers of pleasure gripping her body overwhelm everything else. Her arms were pinned beneath him, her palms resting against his chest as if in a futile effort to push him away, her fingertips testing every firm inch of muscle before her nails raked their way down to the thickly defined contours of his stomach.

She relished the force with which he handled her body. It might not have been something she was even consciously aware of, but she needed that firmness right now, the kind of insistence that brooked no room for hesitation or doubt. Had he been gentle with her she might have started thinking back to the nights she's shared with Harper, the tender passion and loving embraces that left her warm and content...

This kind of lovemaking didn't warm Arpil, it burned her, and she longed for more of it.

Cyan drew back, her lips clutching at his wet tongue all the way to the tip as it escaped her mouth, and he pressed her down against the furs again by the shoulder. He reached for the buckle of his belt, her own fingers working feverishly to unfasten her jeans and tug them down to expose her eager sex, barely managing to get them half way down her thighs before Cyan was on top of her again, her hands sliding away to clutch at his powerful body.

His shaft pressed against her trembling stomach, the crown rubbing gently against her navel as he lifted her legs up, her knees crooked over his parted thighs. She twined her ankles together behind his back, locking his body in close against hers, desperate to keep him there.

He felt for her hand as he kissed her again, his fingers groping their way up her forearm and around her wrist until his thumb pressed into her palm and she clung on tight, his grip almost bruisingly hard. The taste of him filled her mouth now, the air between them warm with scent of their bodies, tinged with the fragrance of sex and the musky animal tones of the furred hide wrapped around them. The heat of the fire beat against her left cheek, Cyan's hot tongue working within her mouth as his body brushed against hers, every touch of skin on skin driving away the chill of the cabin. Her hard nipples grazed his chest, the gentle friction tingling through her breasts and down towards the swelling knot of pleasure in her belly.

April closed her eyes as he lifted himself up and guided his shaft to its place between her legs, his breath heaving in her ear as she bit her lip in anticipation, tightening her ankles around his back and squeezing his hand tight.

Thankfully he didn't wait. He didn't go gently and tenderly, the way Harper would have, he thrust into her hard in one motion, the burning pain lancing through her stomach and taking her breath away as she exhaled a ragged mix of a sob and a whimper. The size of him hurt her, but that was good, it was what she wanted. When Cyan hesitated she dug her fingernails into the back of his hand and shook her head, tangles of loose red hair clinging to her face as she jerked her chin back and forth, and in an instant he was breathing heavily into her ear as he pulled back and drove himself in deep with another burning thrust.

Tears of painful pleasure fell from her eyes. Cyan's forehead pressed against hers as she gripped his shoulder with her free hand, feeling the freshly healed marks the feral's teeth had left in him beneath her fingertips. Her smaller body rocked beneath his powerful frame as he worked his rhythm into a steady pace, the pain of his friction gradually receding ever time he slid into her.

It was a good pain. The knot of pleasure inside her throbbed and ached, desperate to break and relieve her of all the stifled feelings bottled up inside.

His hips struck against hers over and over again, his length filling her completely, pressing uncomfortably against her back wall until her body relented and stretched to accommodate him.

Her feelings of helplessness and fragility reminded her of her first time all over again, but this was far different. Back then she'd been hesitant, almost afraid of the idea of being this intimate with a man; now the opposite was true. It was everything else that frightened her. Everything out _there_.

She lost herself in the rhythm of Cyan's body pressing against hers, closing her eyes and sinking into the warmth of the fire and the softness of the furs, and the tantalising friction between her legs that was tinged with hot soreness. She caressed his firm body and clung to his hand, not even thinking of who he was, only that he was _someone_. Someone to care for her, hold her tight, and protect her from everything she was afraid to confront.

Her lips were sticky with his saliva, the kisses coming breathlessly over and over as she lost herself in the moment, a dozen little touches and tastes and tingles working her to the brink until her thighs were gripping Cyan's waist achingly hard, pulling him into her relentlessly as each thrust pricked the bubble inside her that was ready to burst.

April's body shook so violently with her climax that she had difficulty breathing. Her groan of pleasure caught in her throat, turning into a choking gasp before it left her lips, her fingernails scoring deep red marks across Cyan's shoulder as the rush of pleasure drove every negative thought from her mind for a blissful instant. She bit her lip, desperate to cling on to her peak, and her heart sank as it began to ebb.

Then Cyan was growling in her ear, hissing a sharp exclamation of breath as her nails raked his body, his fingers tightening around her wrist and holding her down as his free hand curled around her lower back to drag her hips up against him. His lips found her neck, his teeth tightening against her skin, and the sinking feeling was washed away in another flood of pleasure as he drove himself into her with renewed passion, forcing her to a second peak of orgasm that she'd never experienced before.

She shook within his grasp, squirming helplessly as if trying to wring every last drop of pleasure out of her body, the intensity of it gripping every muscle and nerve until it exhausted her. She met another crest, and her eyes rolled as Cyan's ferocious passion only seemed to increase with every gasp and spasm she gave him. He didn't back down, he pressed on and on, reaching places she'd never before experienced and refusing to let her relax, even when she was a trembling, whimpering mess.

* * * * *

He couldn't help himself. He knew it wasn't right, but every brush of her lips and squeeze of her hand urged him on, her body telling him the things his mind didn't want to admit. He was hungry for her, her sweet red lips and soft white skin, the fiery tangle of hair clinging to her face, those beautiful green eyes that glanced up at him every time they opened in between crests of pleasure.

It had been a long time since he'd felt such passion from a partner, and longer still since he'd felt it so pure and genuine. He kept looking for signs of reluctance, trembles of anxiety or cries of discomfort, but even when he could tell he was hurting her she still still clung on and dragged him in as though her life depended on it.

By the time her body shook with the throes of her first climax his doubts had receded into the back of his mind until they were out of reach, the feral instincts of his inner wolf taking charge and flaring brighter than ever as she responded to his passion. He couldn't just be satisfied with giving her what she wanted, he needed more. As she cried out he buried his face in her neck, kissing and biting with such hunger that he marked her pristine skin with his teeth, driving himself into her harder, faster, oblivious to the exhaustion of his muscles and the ache of his injuries.

He was an alpha. Perhaps he'd forgotten that, or at least tried to, but this was what truly stirred his blood deep down. He wanted to please her, take charge, fulfil everything she could ever want of him and more. Being in control, and being with a female who wanted him to _take_ control, was a pleasure stronger than any he'd felt in years.

April trembled and whimpered beneath him, but her voice still ached with need, her fingers still curling tight around his hand as he held her wrist against the furs. Only when he'd exhausted her, when her throes of ecstasy had finally subsided and her slick inner muscles had loosened their writhing grip on him, did he finally feel his pleasure cresting.

He grabbed her tight by the back of the neck, clenching his teeth as he let out his climax in a series of powerful, heaving breaths, his chest rising and falling with each rush as he buried himself deep inside her, twitching and throbbing as surge after surge gripped his tensing muscles from base to tip.

It was an urge he'd bottled up for far too long, and setting it free was like relieving a burden he hadn't even known he'd been carrying.

With a final gasp of breath he relaxed, loosening his grip on April's hand, and looking down at her as she panted in the afterglow.

Neither of them said a word. Their eyes shared the same vacant understanding, knowing what they'd just done but unable to react to it. He looked away, his resurfacing human thoughts warring with the pride and contentment of his inner wolf.

April shifted beneath him, and he eased himself to the side as he withdrew from her, resting back on the furs and turning his gaze towards the fire. He tucked their fur covering around them, and she rolled over, resting her head on his shoulder and curling into the warmth of his body. He let her stay there, squeezing the girl's hand softly as her exhausted breathing gradually slowed until he was sure she was asleep.

At least he'd given her that much. A night's sleep on an evening like this was more than most could hope for, even if she'd be worse off for it in the morning.

Would she regret this, in the long run? He didn't see how she couldn't. Maybe her partner would have understood. Maybe the grief really would have driven her over the edge if he hadn't been there.

Did he care for her? She was just a girl. Beautiful, sweet, conflicted, but beyond that, who was she? Just another werewolf.

Another werewolf that his inner beast had now gotten a taste for.

He watched the flames slowly dim, but he didn't disturb April by getting up to feed fresh logs into the grate. Taking a deep breath, he crushed the predatory feelings to the back of his mind, his brow furrowing as his inner wolf fought back in vain.

He hadn't earned the right to want her, nor did he deserve it. One good deed—if tonight could even be called that—wasn't enough to wipe the slate clean.

He'd look after her. He'd make sure she had a life to piece back together amongst her pack, just like he'd told himself he would. And then he'd move on.

April whimpered and squirmed in her sleep, but she didn't wake again until morning.

Cyan's eyes didn't close till the sun came up.

* * * * *

April didn't even have a blissful moment of thinking she was lying back in her cabin with Harper when she awoke. She knew immediately, the realisation shocking her awake with a start as though she'd just risen from the climax of a terrifying nightmare. Her dreams had been vague and painful, but they hadn't let her forget.

She rolled away from Cyan, hoping he was asleep, and tugged her jeans back up from where they'd tangled around her right ankle, hanging half-off. She groped for her top, shivering without the warmth of the furs and Cyan's body, and dressed quickly with her back to him before shuffling over to the fire to stuff a log into the dull embers.

White light filtered through the shutters, and morning had brought with it a clarity that she'd lacked the previous night. Her chest still ached with grief so badly that it almost hurt to move, her stomach heavy and nauseous, but she no longer felt as lost as she had before.

She would have to get back to the others. They'd need to know what happened. It wasn't unusual for someone to be gone for a day or more, but in weather like this they'd be worrying about her and Harper by now.

She pressed a trembling hand to her face, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as she summoned up the strength to stand. She was hungry. She had to eat, finish getting dressed, and get herself back to camp through the blizzard. How would she tell them? She'd go to Ingrid first, and Blackthorn. They'd be able to tell the others. And then there was the problem of her future now that she was without a mate...

She swallowed, pushing that problem to the back of her mind for now. One thing at a time.

The floor creaked beneath Cyan's heavy boots, and she paused. There was her final problem.

She waited until he'd dressed before forcing herself to stand, brushing her tangled hair back as she turned to face him and spoke. "We should head back soon. The others will be wondering what's happened."

Cyan watched her carefully as he slid his arms into his jacket. "Are you sure you're ready?"

She nodded. "I just want to get it over with. We can head back, and then I'll talk to Ingrid, and she can tell the others, and then—"

"And then what?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Cyan, I just need to do something, I can't wait around here. What I said last night, I didn't mean it, and I..." Her voice faltered. "You can't tell anyone. Not just about what I said, but about what we— what we did. For your sake as much as mine."

"I know, I doubt they'd understand."

She had been expecting an "I told you so" to follow, but it didn't come.

"It's more than that," she said. "Our pack doesn't like outsiders, especially not when they... interfere. I know Ingrid said you could stay for a while, but nobody's allowed to be," she paused, "intimate, with anyone from outside the pack."

"April, last night wasn't—"

"I know! It wasn't anything, and I don't want it to be," she said a little more sharply than she'd intended. "But the others wouldn't see it that way. It's all about trust, responsibility—and if they knew they do more than just send you on the way with a slap on the wrist!"

"So what would they do?"

"I don't know." April bit her lip. "But it would be bad."

Cyan nodded slowly and turned towards the table, opening up the package he'd left there the night before and tugging out a strip of dried meat before offering it to April. "Alright, I'll make sure I keep it to myself. Have something to eat, you'll need it for the walk."

She took the piece of jerky and gave him a faint smile. The pair of them shared a thin breakfast of the salted meat and water from the snow pan over the cabin's table, neither speaking or meeting the other's gaze. She didn't want to be this close to him right now. She needed space to think, to grieve, and Cyan was sitting in the middle of all of it leaving her with mixed emotions of gratitude and guilt.

Did she regret what they'd done? How could she not. The thought of what the others would say and think of her if they ever found out burned her cheeks with shame, threatening to drag her back to that terrible place she'd ended up in last night.

But if she hadn't given in to that urge to kiss him, would she still be there? Would the pain of her loss have broken her if he hadn't been around to help ease the burden?

She wanted to thank him, embrace him, tell him that he'd helped her through the hardest night of her life, but the thought of so much as smiling at him right now wracked her with guilt.

It wasn't right, especially not with an outsider like him, and what would Harper have thought of her right now? She couldn't even entertain the idea of getting any closer to Cyan.

* * * * *

The snow was still blowing in thick and fast when they stepped outside, heavy drifts building up against the struts of the cabin and carpeting the mountain slopes around them. Cyan was tired and aching from his sleepless night, but April's newfound confidence helped him snap back into focus. She was dealing with it, and that was good. Her detachment from reality the previous night had genuinely worried him, but the girl seemed to be made of sterner stuff that he'd first thought. She knew that practicality had to come before more grief, and that was always a positive sign. He respected her for it, and that only made his feelings towards her all the more uncomfortable.

They made the trek through the blizzard in their wolf forms once April had reassured him that she could manage it, covering the distance much faster than they would have on their human legs. Her wolf was a russet brown, lithe and quick, with sharp eyes and a slender tail that curled as she ran. She seemed inquisitive, but out of place in the snowy wilderness. Just like April, the wolf running alongside him possessed a curiosity that seemed at odds with the rest of her.

He hadn't believed her when she'd told him she hadn't meant what she said the night before. There was part of April that questioned her pack mentality, and rightfully so, but she didn't seem to know how to reconcile it with the rest of her. Like so many of their kind, she was torn between her human and animal sides. Just like him.

Cyan took a deep breath as they shifted back into their human forms after catching sight of the Highland Pack cabins through the snow. He looked at April, but her chin was up and her eyes dry, her jaw set with determination.

"You'll be alright, April," he said.

"I hope so." She glanced over at him, hesitating for a moment before holding out her hand. He took it and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Thank you again," she said, then let go and stepped towards the cabins.

Several of the Highland Pack were gathered in the central area despite the weather, Ingrid and Blackthorn among them. The group talked in hushed, intense tones, and Ingrid seemed to be arguing with an older woman whose heavily lined face was squinched up in a permanent scowl.

Neither April nor Cyan announced their presence, but when the group saw them stepping into the circle of log seats they rushed forward with exclamations of relief and concern, Ingrid immediately dropping her argument to hurry over to April and embrace her.

"Thank goodness, I was so worried about you! When you didn't come back..."

"Where's Harper?" Blackthorn cut in, his steely gaze fixed on Cyan.

"We ran into the ferals. He's dead," April said, emotion creeping into her voice as Ingrid backed away, cupping the younger woman's face in her hands as her brow furrowed with disbelief.

A thick silence descended on the group for a few heavy moments until Blackthorn spoke again. "What did you do?" His eyes narrowed at Cyan, fingers curling into fists as his stern expression cracked with anger.

"He was on the bridge west of here," Cyan said. "There was an avalanche, or landslide. He couldn't get away in time?"

"Oh, April." Ingrid embraced her again, and this time she returned the hug, sniffing audibly.

"An _avalanche?_ " Blackthorn took a step forward, his tone incredulous. "We don't have _avalanches_ this far down the mountain. Do you think we'd be stupid enough to build a bridge where something like that could happen? And what were you even doing out there in the first place?!"

"That's what I saw," Cyan replied. "It took Harper and a chunk of the bridge with it. There was no way he could have survived the fall."

"And what were you doing while all this happened? Harper wouldn't go chasing after ferals like that! Was he chasing them, or was he chasing you?"

"Stop it Blackthorn!" April cut in, tugging herself away from Ingrid and clutching the male by the arm. "If Cyan hadn't been there I'd be dead too! He fought off three of the ferals all by himself and got me back to the hunting cabin, I don't know what I'd have done without him!"

"Three of them?" Blackthorn snorted in disbelief. "Why would an outsider do that for one of us? Did you go out hunting them and drag Harper along with you?!"

Cyan remained silent, his arms folded, and April tugged at Blackthorn's arm again, taking him by the hand.

"I know it's hard," she said softly, "but don't take it out on Cyan. He saved my life, and he would have saved Harper's too if he could. We should let him stay here as long as he wants, he's earned that much from us." She glanced at Ingrid for confirmation, and the older woman nodded, her expression heavy with grief as she stepped in front of Blackthorn and took Cyan's hand.

"Thank you for being out there," she said. "At least we have one person coming home today rather than none. April's right, you can stay with us for... well, we'll see, but our camp's yours for the time being."

He nodded his thanks, and Blackthorn turned away, shaking his head as he paced back and forth in the snow, raising a gloved hand to his brow every few seconds as he paused to take deep breaths.

Cyan left the group to grieve, sitting down on one of the benches as they comforted April and gave voice to their own sorrows. There were tears, words of reassurance, determined plans to put an end to the feral wolves once and for all, and even a few desperate hopes that Harper might somehow have survived the fatal drop down the mountain chasm.

"You protected April," a stony voice said from behind him, and he turned around to see Blackthorn standing there, his eyes red-rimmed and furious, but that fury no longer seemed to be directed at Cyan.

"Yes. I was an alpha once. It's not in my nature to stand by when I could help."

"Those ferals could have killed you."

"They could have, but they'd have killed April for sure."

Blackthorn grit his teeth, tapping a boot heel agitatedly against the ground. "I don't trust outsiders, but if April says you didn't have anything to do with what happened I'll have to believe her."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he said sharply. "I meant what I said. Avalanches don't just "happen", especially not at the perfect moment to hit a wolf on a bridge that's been there for decades without a single solitary rock tumbling down on it. What are the odds of that happening the moment Harper went out there?"

Cyan frowned. He hadn't given it much thought amongst everything else that had happened the previous evening.

"I'm going to make sure April's alright, and then I want you to tell me exactly what happened out there," Blackthorn said. "Because if anyone else was involved in Harper's death—you, those wild animals, anyone—I'm going to make sure they pay for it."

"I can only tell you what I saw," Cyan said carefully.

"Good. Make sure you get it all right by the time I come back," Blackthorn said as he turned away, before adding one last pointed comment over his shoulder: "And stay away from April. She needs her own pack right now."

# # #

To be continued in Part Two, available now!

Time has passed for April since the night that changed her life forever, but the reality of her situation is still only just beginning to set in. She must adapt, find a new mate, and continue on as a dutiful female to her pack.

Still an outsider to the insular Highland wolves, Cyan is unable to leave April to face her fate alone after the night they shared together, but there is little he can do to save her from a life he knows she will live to regret.

The Highland Pack are beginning to question their leadership, their traditions and future becoming unclear, and amidst all of their upheaval there is only one simple, impulsive desire for both April and Cyan to seek comfort in. A forbidden desire, and one which will have severe consequences for both of them should they give in to it.

# # #

Thank you very much for purchasing this title, I hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing!

If you have a spare moment to return to where you purchased the book and leave a review it would be much appreciated!

Reviews help new readers find my work and decide if the book is for them, along with providing helpful feedback for my writing.

Claudia King is a writer based in the United Kingdom, she studied Creative Arts at university and continues to maintain a passionate interest in storytelling (both erotic and non-erotic!) across many forms of media. She owns a banana plant.

Find more of my stories online:

Smashwords - <https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ClaudiaKing>

Blog - <http://claudiakingerotica.blogspot.co.uk/>

Twitter - <https://twitter.com/CKerotica>

Drop me an email! I love hearing from readers - claudiakingbooks@gmail.com
