With Her Capture (3 page)

Fortunately, she wasn’t able to cry in her
fur. She wouldn’t risk any more tears over the loss of her litter.
Liesa and Katrin were alive and well. They had to be. Magda’s life
wouldn’t be worth fighting for if she learned her littermates were
dead. It was hard enough coping with the loss of her mother and
sire.

The only thing Magda knew for sure was that
her youngest littermate, Katrin, was safe with Cariboo
lunewulf
in Prince George. As much as she adored her Malta
werewolf sire, he wasn’t the only one who had bestowed special
gifts upon his cubs. Thanks to their Cariboo
lunewulf
mother, Katrin didn’t look like a Malta werewolf. Her fur and
complexion in her skin was almost as white as a pure bred Cariboo
lunewulf
. Magda was so glad Katrin had been able to pass for
Cariboo. As much as it tore her up to separate the three of them,
as the eldest, she howled how it would be. Katrin hadn’t wanted to
be left alone with a new pack. But she was safe. Eventually Katrin
would find a new life with that pack.

Now fully awake, Magda pushed herself to all
four paws and wobbled a moment. It would take more than a few fish
to replenish enough energy for her to keep running and stay alive.
After all she’d endured, Magda would be damned if it ended with her
starving to death in a cold, dark cave.

Climbing around the fallen trees and large
boulders she’d stacked at the cave entrance, Magda sniffed the
frigid, mountain air before hobbling along the mountainside toward
the bubbly water and smell of fish.

She understood now why her Cariboo
lunewulf
mother and pure bred Malta werewolf sire had raised
their cubs deep in the mountains north of where she was now. Her
litter hadn’t belonged to a pack. Yet they’d lived in paradise,
every day smelling as happy as the last. Magda had never known,
while growing up, how incredibly safe they’d been on the side of
their mountain.

Happiness didn’t last forever. It had all
ended when humans had climbed the mountain and burned all the
werewolf dens they had found to the ground. Her sire and mother
hadn’t died in that fire because of what breed of werewolf they
were. They had died simply because they were werewolves.

Magda lived with the stench of prejudice from
humans, and the thick, pungent odor of fear and hatred from other
werewolves. At the moment she also lived with her starvation and
growing weakness. What she wouldn’t do to run into an elk, or some
other large animal. She hung her head, disgusted with her thoughts.
An elk was the last thing she needed to see right now. Magna
wouldn’t have the strength to kill it.

Testing her abilities, she stared at several
fallen logs ahead of her that had rushed down stream with the
current and now lined the edge of the rocky bank. An easy path from
her cave to her feeding ground might make restoring her strength a
bit easier. Not to mention, a few good meals would make thinking
easier and plotting her way off this mountain.

Magda concentrated on the fallen logs. She
willed the air around them to become dense and heavier. Magda
didn’t know much about science. It was imagery she invented in her
brain that helped ignite her gift and make it work. Her sire had
howled of elements and mastering them. She’d been a mere pup at the
time. Today she still used the same line of thinking that had
worked for her then. In order to move a large, inanimate object she
imagined something strong, something invincible that might bring
whatever she wanted to her. It helped her gift come to life. To
move the logs and create a path she imagined the air becoming heavy
enough to lift them.

Instead of air, her thoughts drifted to the
Cariboo male she’d come face to face with the other day. He had
been so tall, so muscular, and sexy in that forbidding, incredibly
hot sort of way. For a moment, she swore she breathed in his
masculine scent. The log she’d been staring at and trying to move
with her gift rolled to its side.

Crap!
She growled, bearing her teeth.
In spite of her mouth being unable to form the word, she grumbled
more, feeling the urge to spew out a long list of expletives.
What kind of stupid bitch gets wet thinking about a male whose
only desire is to snap her neck in two?

One who is going to start smelling like an
idiot if she isn’t careful. Magda gave herself a mental shake and
worked her way across the rocks to the water. It was pointless
trying to use her gift on an empty stomach. Food first. Rearranging
drift wood would have to come later.

Maybe once she caught a few trout she would
dare building a fire, cooking her dinner and eating it in her
flesh. It was a very short term plan but one appealing enough to
lighten her mood. Her imagination was getting the best of her. At
this rate, she’d be
tres
fou
before she got off the
mountain.

The rushing water around her legs cleared her
head with fierce ferocity. Nothing like an icy bath to help
rejuvenate the soul. Coffee sounded so much better. If she managed
putting her life back in order—no, not if! Magda would put her life
in order. Soon she’d have her own den again. Once that happened
she’d howl for her littermates.

Magda froze. The beginning of the first
pleasant thought she’d had since waking dissipated when she raised
her head. On the other side of the water was a large Cariboo male.
His silver eyes glowed against the early evening moonlight. His
solid white coat was the color of fresh driven snow.

Fucking tail! She really had picked up on his
scent while trying to move the fallen trees. Her preoccupation with
food had made her too weak. Her senses warned her and she’d ignored
them.

Magda stared at the male. There wasn’t any
doubt in her mind, which was damn clear now, who he was. Even among
Cariboo
lunewulf
there couldn’t possibly be that many males
with such dominating, off the charts, sex appeal. Magda wasn’t sure
if lack of food or an inner desire to taste something she shouldn’t
get anywhere near was making her weak in the legs.

Maybe she had run long enough and now had a
death wish. How many females wondered what it would be like to fuck
someone who planned on killing them?

He was definitely the male who had stood
staring at her after she’d dodged the leopards. If it hadn’t been
for the other two Cariboo bounding back up that mountain the other
day, she would likely be dead right now.

She stared into his eyes. Maybe she was too
worn down to trust her senses. If she did, she might wonder why she
didn’t smell hatred, anger or fear. It very likely was her
half-starved state that willed her to sense something in this male
that wasn’t there. If Magda didn’t know better she would swear she
smelled emotions quite the opposite.

Interest. Curiosity. Lust.

Magda took a step backward out of the water.
Her only advantage was quite a few slippery rocks and the noisy,
rushing water between them. It only gave her a few seconds
advantage.

If there was one thing she’d learned since
running for her life it was to know when to use her gift, and when
to simply run. She didn’t want to hurt the male. But it was more
important that she not get hurt. Magda raced away from the water,
from her dinner, back across the mountain and to the safety of the
cave. She remained alert, praying his scent would go away.

After leaping over the fallen trees and large
boulders that hid the entrance, Magda slid into the safety of her
cave and up against the far wall. Her heart pounded so hard it was
damn near impossible to hear if he were approaching. She breathed
in, breathed out, forcing her heart to slow, and her senses to
remain acute.

“Malta female! I’m not going to hurt you,” a
male voice yelled.

So much for soothing her over-worked heart.
It rushed into her throat and almost choked her. She prayed she
hadn’t just yelped. There wasn’t enough space in the cave to hide
the sudden smell of her fear, and she hated how it made her appear
weak. Worse yet, she was now trapped. Looking around frantically,
it dawned on her that the cave was empty. There was nothing to
throw with her mind, no way to protect herself other than with
tooth and claw. She might be very hungry but she wasn’t delusional
enough to believe she would stand a chance in a fight against that
male. He was almost twice her size. Even though he’d changed back
into his flesh, it would take nothing for him to return to his
fur.

“I know you hear me,” he spoke again. He had
a deep, rough baritone. “I’m putting my clothes on and coming in.
It would be nice if you didn’t filet me when I enter.”

Magda studied the cave entrance. Instinct had
her plotting her escape. Maybe when he entered she might be able to
rush past him. That might work. But then where would she go?

“I’m coming in,” he warned. He grunted as he
climbed around the obstacle course she’d designed to keep her safe.
A lot of good it ended up doing her. “You know my littermate and I
used to come to this cave when we were cubs.”

In spite of the darkness, Magda saw him the
moment he entered and straightened. The male was tall. He wasn’t
able to straighten all the way when he stood in her cave, which
until a moment ago had been her sanctuary. Now it was so full of
his rough, masculine aroma she wasn’t able to inhale without
filling her lungs with it. The outdoors clung to him, adding to his
appealing scent. He smelled pleased, happy and more than a bit
triumphant. The gleam in his bright blue eyes showed off that
particular emotion. A slightly crooked, almost half-smile played at
his lips. Hopefully his senses had dulled enough now that he was in
his human form. Magda didn’t want him sniffing out how sexually
appealing she thought he was.

“Wish I would have guessed yesterday that
you’d be here. I climbed half the damn mountain looking for
you.”

If she were in her flesh the growl that
escaped her lips would have sounded more like a moan. This male was
hot as hell. Along with no food there had been a noticeable lack of
sex in her life since she’d been on the run. Unfortunately, Magda
seriously doubted he’d hunted her in order to fuck her. She didn’t
smell anything vindictive about him, but she didn’t smell lust
either. Not to mention, a werewolf as incredibly sexy as he was
wouldn’t be interested in a Malta werewolf female. He probably had
a pack full of unmated bitches ready to belly up for him.

“Here.” He tossed a duffle bag her
direction.

When Magda did growl it was in surprise, and
instant anger, when his crooked grin broadened.

“Change little bitch,” he growled in return.
There was something not quite human in the sound of his voice.
“We’ll see if these clothes fit you.” There was that stupid crooked
grin again. “Change and you can eat some of this food I brought for
you.”

This male showed up in her cave and gave her
orders. Then he taunted her with food as if he already knew she was
starving. The rumble in his voice electrified the hairs on her back
and made her insides tighten in a way she prayed he didn’t detect
in his human form. He was getting to her. She didn’t want him in
the cave, let alone affecting her in a way best not to label.

Magda bared her teeth and lunged at him. This
male would know, before he knew anything else that she didn’t belly
up for anyone. She considered making him bleed, but managed only to
get a mouthful of the sweater he wore. The male leapt to the side
just as strands of yarn tore.

Worse yet, the fucking Cariboo had the
audacity to laugh. It made her cave smell even more of him, of
happiness, of mischievousness and a daring curiosity that continued
to do something to her insides she didn’t want him having the power
to do.

Hating him might be safer. He might come
bearing gifts but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t howl about her
presence in this cave—if he hadn’t done so already. It was best to
focus on that then how damn hot he looked in faded jeans and long
sleeved sweater that hugged his muscular chest. There was warped
satisfaction in seeing the edge of it now slightly unraveled.

“I’ll step outside. You can have your
privacy.” He misunderstood her lunging at him and held up his hands
in surrender. “No reason to bite the hand who is trying to save
your ass. I didn’t hunt you down to dishonor you.”

Save her ass? No! That didn’t make sense. No
one tried saving Malta werewolves.

She forced herself to look away when he
turned his back on her and pushed at the fallen tree trunks against
the cave entrance to step outside. Magda didn’t look away in time.
A mental image of steel buns got stuck in her head when the change
seared up her spine.

After being in her fur for so long, her veins
burned with fire hotter than usual when she began changing into her
human form. Her bones stretched. Muscles took new form. Her brain
screamed with new emotions that had remained dormant in her more
primal state. A werewolf was blessed with the ability to release
all their feelings and reactions to life when they changed into
their fur. Unlike humans, who were half of a whole, when she
changed, her instincts took over and washed away all the luggage
humans were so notoriously known for carrying around until they
stunk from it. Apparently, recent events in her life were so
traumatizing that Magda hadn’t been able to release the anxiety,
panic and desperation to keep her litter safe and carried those
negativities back with her into her human form.

The moment her front legs adjusted on her
shoulders and became arms, her hind quarters lengthened until she
was able to straighten and stand on them. Magda instantly crumbled
to the hard, cold floor of the cave. Her fur receded and the frigid
air sunk deep into her smooth flesh. She began shaking
uncontrollably.

Unable to stand the conditions of the cave as
a human, she grasped at the duffle bag the male had tossed at her.
Before her fingers were in full working order she was struggling to
open it. Her nails receded at her fingertips just in time not to
rip the bag in two.