Page 34 of A Wolf's Bargain

His laughter echoed off of the trees, and she reveled in the sound. It was a rough, heavy sound, like the man himself, but she cherished it all the same. Without warning, he pulled her against him and whispered in her ear, “Oh, Little Rabbit, I think I’ll enjoy chasing you down.”

“I am no rabbit, Cillian Fane,” she snapped, catching his ear in her teeth for a sharp bite. “I am your wife.”

Cillian reared back, the shock on his face lasting only a moment before shifting into something far more predatory. “Then run, wife. Run from the wolf!”

He’d no sooner released her than she tore herself away and ran deeper into the woods. She heard the pops and snaps that she remembered from the first night they’d met—the night she’d offered herself to him. Those sounds meant the wolf was coming, and the thought of the enormous beast she’d seen spurred her legs to move faster.

She crashed through the brush, not caring how much noise she made as she went. It would do her no good—the wolf would hear everything. Her only chance to evade him would be to put as much distance as she could between them while he gained his bearings in his animal skin.

A lone, sharp howl shook the surrounding air, and Cora fought the wild, strange urge to howl back. There was nothing to fear from the beast who made that sound. He was her beast, come to find her. She’d been unprepared the first time he’d changed. She hadn’t known such a thing could be possible. Now that she did, there was a wicked sense of pride that such a wild beast could desire her. That he’d foundherworthy.

Cora made her way through the dimly lit trees as quickly as she could in her long skirts. The fabric caught on a thorny bushas she ran by. She tore the fabric free without a care for how she’d mend it later. She fought to get as far as possible before he caught up, hopping small logs and splashing through puddles.

Before long—only minutes, in truth—she heard the hard thud of enormous paws against the ground behind her. Fear raced through her veins like sparks of lightning, pushing her even faster. A low branch scraped her cheek, but she didn’t stop to wipe the blood away, too focused on getting away.

She heard his breath as he ran behind her. The rhythm of his footfalls told her he was running on all fours. He’d mentioned before that he moved faster that way but couldn’t maneuver as easily as he could on two legs—something about the lengths of his limbs. She couldn’t remember exactly, but she hoped she remembered right as she veered to her left. He snarled from somewhere behind her, and there was a crash that suggested she’d been correct. She allowed herself a small, victorious smile but otherwise kept her focus on the ground ahead of her.

Her success was short-lived. Within moments, his pounding footfalls were behind her again. He came up along her left side, and she realized he was trying to force her to change direction again. In the dim moonlight, she couldn’t see him, and she nearly tripped when she felt the brush of a large, furry body against her skirt.

She allowed him to herd her to the right, noticing the way the night grew bright up ahead.

A clearing—he was leading her out of the woods.

Excitement sparked beneath her skin as she watched the tree line come closer with every step. He would catch her—as if there had been any doubt—but he would finish the hunt out in the open, where they could see each other.

Cora gasped as she broke through trees as though she’d been underwater and could finally draw breath. The thrill of being hunted by her beast filled her heart until it had to escapesomehow. She gave into the urge that had taken her in the woods, threw her head back, and howled to the moon as she ran across the moonlit clearing. If anyone had been around to see her, she might have been too ashamed to give into such a strange impulse. But there was no one save her husband and the moon to witness her insanity. For the first time in her life, she felt free.

When she lowered her chin, he was in front of her. She threw her arms up in self-defense as she tried to slow down and skidded to a stop just before crashing into his colossal frame. Cora stared up into the icy blue eyes of the wolf. He’d run on four legs, but now that he’d caught her, he lifted himself onto two.

For a single moment, she considered giving up. He’d caught up to her, after all. But then she caught sight of a large stick lying in the grass. Impulsively, she grabbed it and raised it above her head.

“Well, come on then! Did you think I’d give up that easily? I keep telling you I’m not a fucking rabbit!”

The wolf reared back, teeth bared and ears flattened. His growl was a warning, but Cora knew she was in no danger. Wild or not, he wouldn’t hurt her.

Well, if she landed a hit with the big stick, he might. Some risks were worth the potential outcome. If she managed a shot before he tore the stick—and possibly her innards—away, she’d consider herself successful.

The wolf hesitated, his ears twitching as though he couldn’t make sense of her.

“You coming or not, you overgrown throw rug? I’m ready for you. You said you wanted a hunt? Well, this prey’s fighting back!”

The wolf snarled and advanced. He lunged for her, and Cora wondered if she’d made a mistake but swung with all her might anyway. If she died, at least they could say she went out with a weapon in her hand.

The dull thud and low growl were the only clues that she’d connected. Against all logic, she’d decided that swinging with her eyes closed was the very best way to face the monster she’d challenged. If she survived the night, it’d be a miracle from God himself.

She opened one eye in time to see the wolf shaking his head and pawing at his muzzle. The surprised laughter escaped her mouth before she could think better of it. Pride warmed her body, and she couldn’t help the smug tone of her voice when she called, “Who’s the predator now, husband?”

Her pride disappeared the instant that the wolf lifted his head, blue eyes aflame and sharp teeth bared. The growl that echoed from his chest turned her legs to useless jelly, and fear quickly replaced any self-confidence she might have had. The wolf advanced, hackles raised. Cora dropped the branch, afraid that she might have gone too far. She realized she’d never asked how far the bond between Cillian and his wolf went. What if she’d just angered a feral beast? What if the man had no say in what the wolf did with its teeth and claws?

She backed away slowly, hands outstretched. “Cillian—Cillian, can you hear me? I didn’t mean—I wasn’t trying to hurt you! I thought it was a game! Please, Cillian, that’s enough!”

Cora tripped on her own skirt and went sprawling to the ground with a frightened screech. In that instant, he was there, a snarl echoing in the quiet night as he covered her body with his own. She lay still, afraid that any sudden movements would be her last. This close, his low growls sent vibrations through her skin until she wasn’t sure how much was him and how much was her own frightened shivering.

She squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to look into his eyes if he struck. “Cillian, I’m sorry. Please, please don’t do this.”

Suddenly, a warm, wet tongue slid up her cheek. Her surprised shriek sent a flock of nearby sleeping birds into theair. He licked her over and over, his tongue bathing her face, her shoulders, and even her hair.

Relief flooded her veins, so overwhelming that tears slid down her cheek. The wolf huffed and licked the tears away before returning to her impromptu bath.