Winter Wolf (A New Dawn Novel Book 1)
Read Winter Wolf (A New Dawn Novel Book 1) Online
Authors: Rachel M Raithby
A NEW DAWN NOVEL
RACHEL M RAITHBY
The Deadwood Hunter Series
Lexia
Whispers of Darkness
Holocaust (Out 2015)
A Deadwood Hunter Novella
Loves Pursuit (Out 2015)
New Dawn Novels
Winter Wolf
Wolf Dancer (Out 2015)
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Photography and Design by Regina Wamba of
www.MaeIDesign.com
Interior Formatting by Kat Smith
www.katsbookpromotions.com
Copyright © Rachel M Raithby, 2014
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the copyright owners.
I’d like to start off by thanking, you, the reader. Without you I wouldn’t be here, right now publishing my third book, with another two in the pipeline for release next year. I never could have imagined I’d reach this far and every time I read your messages and reviews, it still feels surreal.
I’d like to thank the awesome ladies on my street team, you know who you are and I love you! Thank you for loving and sharing my work with such passion.
To my wonderful family, for your continued support and encouragement and a special thanks to Caelan, who was 4 weeks old when I started writing this. Thank you for being such a good baby, I’d have never completed the first draft in two months if you hadn’t slept so well.
And lastly to the Bloggers of the world, you rock!
Katalina Winter’s favorite night of the week was Sunday.
“Turn up the heat, Dad.”
“Sure, Kat.” His hand fumbled for the knob, never taking his eyes off the road.
Katalina snuggled deeper into her white, wool coat. Winters in Michigan where brutal, but Katalina had always loved the winter. There was just something about a crisp, winter morning; frost and snow covering every surface, turning the landscape to a glittering wilderness. She always thought winters had a peaceful silence to them.
“So how’s it feel to be eighteen, darling?” Katalina’s mom asked.
“I still have no idea what to do when I leave school,” she admitted.
It bothered Katalina, no matter how many times she told herself she still had time, it seemed to her. Everyone knew where they were heading, what job they wanted, which university to go to, but Katalina still couldn’t picture herself in the future. Couldn’t imagine where she’d be, who she’d be.
“Don't fret, Kat. You'll figure it out.” Her mom smiled, turning back around.
Her dad met her eyes in the rear-view mirror. “It’s all downhill from here, Kat, wrinkles and grey hairs!” He laughed.
“Duncan, don’t be mean!” They both laughed.
“Ha, ha, guys.” Katalina smiled at her silly parents. She knew she was lucky they'd decided to keep her; they'd found her before her first birthday. She'd always wondered whether she'd been left on Mr. and Mrs. Winter’s doorstep as some kind of joke; with eyes of blue-silver, they looked as if they were carved of ice themselves. Her hair was so light blonde; it was white in the sunlight, and with pale skin to match. Katalina was the embodiment of winter.
She'd met the blunt end of many jokes, but after a while, she'd come to embrace her difference. She loved her parents fiercely, and had no desire to know her biological parents. As far as Katalina was concerned, they'd done her a favor, dumping her on her parents’ doorstep. It had been the dead of winter and she'd been left with only a piece of paper pinned to her blanket; a single line saying, ‘Her name is Katalina.’
Laughing as her father told more jokes, Katalina looked out the window at the passing trees; she saw a flash of something between them. Leaning forward to rub her gloved hand over the glass, she tried to get a better view.
Wolves?
If only she’d not said a word, she may have gone on to love every Sunday night for the rest of her life…
“Dad…there…there’s a wolf,” she muttered, pressing her face closer to the cold glass.
“What?” her mother answered. “Impossible. I don’t think we’d get them this close to the town.”
“Honestly, look, it’s following the car.”
Her mother sucked in a breath as her father indicated to turn into their drive. “Duncan, look, it is!”
Katalina glanced at her father as he turned his head to look and that’s when it happened. When her life changed forever, irrevocably broken…
Wolves ran out onto the road, shades of black to grey. There were so many that all Katalina could see was a wall of fur. They didn’t move, nor did they attempt to get out of the way. They looked on at the vehicle, the glint in their eyes, promising death.
“Dad, watch out!” she screamed.
“Shit!” he shouted, slamming his foot on the brake.
The car skidded… Her mother screamed... Time slowed. As the car flipped, Katalina’s body was weightless; for one glorious second, she felt nothing, feared nothing, and then time hit fast forward.
Her body was tossed like a weightless doll, flipped and smashed, while all around her she was bombarded with noise; smashing glass, groaning metal, terrified screams.
Then there was silence; an endless eerie silence that signaled things were very wrong.
It might have been a minute, ten or maybe just a bare second, but in that time, Katalina hung from her seat, her head rushing with blood, her ears ringing and a constant roll of pain riding through her body, and none of it was as frightening as the thought of breaking the silence. Because she knew, she knew as soon as she opened her mouth, it would be over. Her life would never be the same again.
“Mom? Dad?” Her voice was barely a whisper, yet the sound of her raspy voice sent a fresh pulse of pain through her head.
Mom? Dad?” she asked louder to the silhouettes hanging from their seats, arms limp, and fingers unmoving.
Fumbling for her belt buckle, she unlatched it, falling with a thud onto the car roof. Her heart pounded louder in her ears. Finding hidden strength, she was crawling toward her parents when suddenly, there was a ‘whoosh’; the car caught on fire.
Panic seized her. She screamed, scrambling over glass and twisted metal. Barely registering the cuts to her hands and knees, she unlatched her father’s belt. He slumped down, a dead weight. “Dad! Dad! Please wake up,” she cried, shaking him.
Noises from outside, filtered in: the scuff of snow, the low rumble of a growl.
Heat. Heat surrounded her, filled her, and each breath burned. She stretched up to release her mother. Nearly at the buckle, she screamed when the window smashed inwards. Squeezing her eyes shut, she gasped as glass cut into her skin.
Pain, sharp and deep, lacerated through her body. She only had a moment to register the bite of pain before her ankle was pulled. Screaming, she thrashed as she was dragged from the car. Her hands flailed, looking for something, anything to keep her inside the car, to keep her with her parents.
“Mom! Dad!” she screamed.
Kicking and thrashing, she fought against the unseen attacker. Her foot connected; she kicked again and again until finally, the grip loosened on her ankle. She was nearly free, one more kick and she’d have crawled away, but she never made the final kick. White-hot pain, instant and all-consuming overwhelmed her. Metal gouged into her side, tearing flesh, devouring muscle. Her vision wavered. She half -blacked out as her body met freezing earth, and then she was nothing but pain.
Blinded by tears, she tried to fight, but her body had grown weak. The sounds of snarling grew closer, muzzles prodded, and teeth nipped. The sky above blacked out by the mass of wolves surrounding her. She didn’t fight. She didn’t scream. She felt strangely detached.
This isn’t real.
The sound of heating metal, the crackle and hiss of fire, and the nonexistent cries from her parents couldn’t be real; none of it was real.
She was pulled over the snowbank as the car was engulfed in flames and in the light of the fire, the wolves surrounded her; teeth and bites and snarls. Katalina lay unmoving as they tore her clothes and her skin, her blood seeping into the snow around her. She screamed, but she didn’t fight. What was the point? Her parents were gone... her life, her home, forever changed.
A distant bark drew her attention.
Arne.
Katalina’s German
Shepherd
bounded over the snow, barking at the pack of wolves. “No, Arne! Go, they’ll kill you!” she gasped.
Katalina suddenly found strength. She kicked, punched, and clawed at the snow, desperate to get away.
Arne attacked just as a wolf went for Katalina’s throat. They tumbled away, the wolf and Arne, snarling and clawing at each other. With the wolves’ attention on Arne, Katalina struggled to climb to her feet, the bite on her ankle, slowing her down. She stumbled away, crying for her dog, but she knew she had to run.
In her brief escape, she thought for one hopeful second that she might live through this night. Relief trickled through her but immediately vanished and turned to fear; there was movement in the trees, dashes of grey and silver, streaks of white. More wolves emerged from the trees. A strangled cry left her lips as she sank into the snow; icy fear cutting off the use of her legs. Scrambling backward, her eyes fixed on the scene before her. Wolves attacked wolves, light against dark. They were a mass of tumbling fur and snarling teeth. The burning fire cast a warm glow over the whole scene, making the fighting appear as though a beautiful dance.
Forgotten, Arne limped over to where Katalina sat frozen in shock. Whining, he licked her face.
“Good boy, good boy,” she murmured, sinking her hands into his matted fur.
A grey wolf split off from the group toward her. Arne turned, growling, protecting Katalina. She tried to run, only to fall back down. The wolf grew closer, close enough that she could see the intricate pattern of white fur framing his eyes and fanning up to the tips of his ears. A scream built in her throat only to be cut off by a strangled squeak as the wolf turned into a boy.
“Run!” he told her, wrapping his arm around her waist and helping her up.
Too shocked to protest, she leaned against the boy, who was a foot shorter than her, but seemed ten times stronger as he easily supported her. He led her through the crop of trees, Arne by their side. Quiet now, the wolf-boy didn’t seem to be a threat.
The crop of trees led to another street, quiet like hers had been. The boy glanced behind him and muttered something she couldn’t quite hear, “Quick, over here. Find somewhere to hide. I’ll come back for you.”
He left her leaning against a wall as he ran away, changing into a wolf as he reached the trees. Katalina watched, frozen and wide-eyed, wondering whether she’d lost her mind, but the sounds of fighting wolves growing closer snapped her into action.
With the wall for support, she limped her way down the street and up a drive, her hand clamped over her side where the metal had torn into her flesh. Warm blood slowly seeped through her fingers and soaked her torn coat. She briefly thought of knocking on the door for help, but she wasn’t sure she could explain what had happened.
How do I explain the wolf boy?
Creeping quietly past the house, Katalina made her way into an old shed. She sank to the floor behind a stack of boxes. Arne sat beside her, his warm body thawing her frozen one. Shaking, she listened for the sounds of wolves or anyone coming, but only heard the frantic boom of her heart and the shallow pants of her breathing. Burying her face into Arne’s coat, Katalina cried. She couldn’t quite believe her parents were dead, that this night was even happening; but the hum of pain and the slow trickle of blood through her fingers were a brutal reminder.
She felt the rumble of Arne’s growl before she heard the creak of the shed door. With her arms tightly around Arne, she slowly lifted her head.
The wolf was twice as tall as Arne; Katalina clung onto her dog as he made to attack. “No, boy, he’ll kill you,” she whispered.
The wolf stopped a few feet away. Katalina stilled, her eyes locked with his. He studied her with his dark eyes, his head tilting ever so slightly. Katalina’s heart beat a hard, fast tempo. Holding her breath, she dared not move.
The wolf before her was made up of shades of darkness. With jet-black fur that seemed to absorb the shadows themselves, it would have been invisible, if not for the few silver flecks in its eyes and the dapple of moonlight across its back. Silently, the wolf stepped forward, not even glancing at the growling German Shepherd in Katalina’s arms.
Katalina sat helpless as he moved closer, yet as the wolf gazed at her, she didn’t feel afraid. It stepped forward again; so close she could no longer hold Arne back. The dog latched onto the wolf’s side, yet the wolf didn’t seem to notice. Fearless, the wolf’s head came within inches of hers. Just one bite and her face would be in shreds, but the wolf didn’t bite her; instead, it looked at her for a second longer. Katalina could count each silver fleck in its eyes; feel its warm breath against her face. She yearned to touch it, to see if its coat was as soft as it looked, but then the wolf was gone, with Arne knocked aside as if he were a Jack Russell. Finally, she breathed again.
For a second, she was filled with the desire to chase after the wolf. For just a moment, she felt empty without him. She felt as if he’d taken a piece of her with him. She shook off the feeling, dragging in a deep breath to clear her mind. Unconsciousness called to her, darkness beckoning. She didn’t fight as it took over. Clinging to her dog, she drifted off, forgetting the world for a short blissful time.
The next thing she knew, someone was shaking her awake, whispering her name.
“Dad?” Drowsy and confused, her head felt thick and her eyes heavy.
“Katalina, wake up. We must go.”
“What? Dad?” She opened her eyes to see the boy’s face hovering above her, his hair in his eyes.
“Can you stand? They’re still out there. We need to escape,” he said urgently, standing upright and glancing nervously toward the door.
Seeing his face brought back all her memories. Rather than crying, she focused hard on the boy’s face. Seeing only urgency and no malicious intent, she forced her voice to work, “I-I think s-so.”
He helped her up, wrapping his arm around her waist, but the pain of moving was too strong. Blacking out for a second, she went heavy in the boy’s arms.
“Shit, you’ve lost too much blood,” he muttered, trying to keep her upright.
Biting back a cry, Katalina attempted to make her body move, only to find it uncooperative. Arne whined at her side, licking her slack fingers.
“I’m okay, boy,” she whispered to her dog.
The boy let out a low whistle, and seconds later, someone else entered the shed. He looked to be of similar age to her. His features so similar to the younger boy holding her, she numbly wondered if they were related.