An Undying Love Read Free

was werewolf or wolf. The offspring of such a union never
survived, being born too deformed to live more than a few hours. A tragic end
to the coupling, and it was not one Dante wanted for anyone in his pack.
     It was his duty
to ensure the pack’s viability, which meant he had to kill the graceful-looking
creature. With a heavy heart, he raised his rifle and took aim, making sure his
sights were centered on the animal’s head. He didn’t want it to suffer.
Preparing to squeeze the trigger, he heard a branch crack from where Memphis
was. The animal didn’t even look up, it just bolted for the back where a small
cave-in had left a hole just big enough for her small frame to get out. Not
daring to fire and only injure it, he stopped his finger from moving.
    All Dante
afforded his young cohort was a hard glare as he bolted back out the way he’d
come in. It was just in time to see the fleeting form of ghostly white racing
down the path. They both took off after her, making for their horses and then giving
chase. Memphis had his rifle in one hand and held the reins in the other, as
did Dante. The chase led them toward the old overgrown field just before the
bay. Dante’s horse was ahead of the other man’s, and he saw the wolf come into
sight as they broke through the small trees, then heard the rifle blast from
behind him.
    A tuft of white
fur flew through the air, and the animal ran in a more zigzag motion before
leaping over a fallen tree. It went over the bank, nevertheless. They could
still easily see it from their vantage point atop their mounts. The animal wasn’t
acting like an animal anymore. Its evasive measures, and the fact it made a run
for the bay, told him it was a werewolf. Pulling hard on his reins to bring his
horse to a stop, he knew they had scared her enough she would never come back.
Before he got a chance to order Memphis not to fire again, the little female
made a leap toward the water. The evening air exploded with the discharge from the
rifle. An agonizing yelp told him his young pack member had hit her.
    He steered his
horse down the embankment, then urged it into the small swells of the waves.
His stallion plowed through the salt water until it was up to its breast. Dante
saw the white furred shape beginning to go under, struggling to stay above the
surf, and he moved his mount toward the floundering interloper. The sea foam
from the bay was turning a strange pink color from where Memphis had shot her.
He truly hoped it wasn’t a wound that would prove fatal.
    He reached down
and grabbed the fur on the back of her neck and hauled the limp form out and
across his stallion’s back. In a matter of only a few moments there lay a
wounded, naked young woman in front of him. Her backside faced him, and he
could easily see the bleeding wound in her hip. The bullet had exited near the
center of her back. To him it looked as if it could have been a fatal shot. He
reached down to her throat to feel for a pulse and was relieved to find one.

Chapter Two
     
    The smells of
smoke assaulted her senses, and Anya tried to focus on it. Slowly she opened
her eyes, blinking a little. In the soft glow of candlelight, she saw she was
covered in a handmade quilt, lying on a very itchy, lumpy mattress without a
pillow. The last thing she remembered was breathing in salt water, then nothing
else. Her mind tried to sort through the events, but it was all muddled. She’d
snuck off from her pack, but where had she gone?
    Looking around,
tension filled her. She had no idea where she was. The rough log walls to the
left of her where the bed sat lengthwise to it were bare of even a window. Anya
turned to her right and saw a small side table. It looked handmade, the
unrefined cuts visible in the wood. On that sat three fat oddly formed candles,
and the smoke coming off them reminded her of burning beef fat.
    A door was only
ten feet away from where her bed sat. It too looked to be made from rough
timber planks. It had a