The Midwife's Moon Read Free

her. He broke into a run in the direction of the howl.
    His long lope covered the ground quickly. He knew the area well, and put his knowledge of Joseph together with the landscape and her howl to find her general location. As he neared, he heard her guttural growls and smelled the scent that had imprinted itself on him.
    Through the brush, he thought he saw her. Her rich brown pelt glowed under the rays of the moon. She looked up and his breath caught. Her brown eyes, full of pain and sorrow, glowered at him before she fell over. He jumped over the brush and landed near her at the same time another wolf growled at him.
    “Lance, out of my way. I saw her first,” Boris, the pack’s feral enforcer for Roxy growled.
    “I’ve been following her. She’s mine,” Lance responded fiercely. He would die before letting Boris near her. “You can see she’s caught in a hunter’s trap. She’ll be maimed for life,” he added knowing Boris’ distaste for imperfect females.
    Boris’ low growl of challenge stopped abruptly as the black wolf actually looked at the wolf in contention. “You’re lucky this time, Lance. She is indeed inferior and not worthy of my attentions. See her body is disposed of after she dies. We can’t have any investigations out here.”
    Lance barely controlled his temper at Boris’ cavalier attitude. “I’d planned on it. It’s part of my job to clear the area,” he ground out in his raspy werewolf voice. Reminding himself it was Boris’ very prejudice saving both his and her life, he struggled against the wolf’s heart which wanted to protect its mate from any potential danger. The need to attack one who would hurt his mate was strong. He held his breath to keep the growl back and dampen the call to fight before it overrode his sense, and he launched himself at the pack’s feral.
    When he was sure Boris had actually left and was not hiding in brush nearby, he changed to his human form. He took the trap apart, breaking the mechanism so no wild animal or any of his pack mates could get caught in it. Gently, he lifted her paw and looked at it.
    Great swells of emotion started in his gut, moved up his chest, and threatened to choke him. Having numbed his emotions for years to hide from the pain and shame of Roxy’s treatment of him, he could not define the feelings swamping him. Reverently, he set her paw down on the pine needles and stroked the fur on her face. She had pushed herself much too hard, and he wondered if it was her first change. Whoever she was, she needed medical attention. However, he couldn’t take a chance of being seen getting it for her, or they’d both be dead.
    Nonetheless, he slid one arm under her shoulders and neck, and one under her hind legs, then lifted her close to his chest. Lance rubbed his cheek against her fur as much to comfort himself she lived as to give her comfort. She was belly up to him, and he could see her markings as well as a small scar. He clenched his teeth and began walking.
    She had the mark.
    His mate was aswan , not born werewolf but made. Roxy would be apoplectic when—if—she heard. Lance began jogging. His wiry form held more strength than his pack credited him with. Desperation clawed at him, and his mind filled with worry. He had to risk going to the home of the other pack’s leader, Nolan Littlebull, and beg him to protect her. Thankfully, Nolan lived close to the neutral territories.
    Lance’s muscles rippled as he moved, his naked body absorbing the caresses of the wind saying, “Hurry!” against his skin. Sweat poured from his forehead down on the rich brown fur of the woman he would never claim. Although he couldn’t mate with her in their traditional ways, he would protect her no matter the cost.
    Lungs burning as he sucked in the ever cooling winter night air, he ran. So far to go. What if I can’t get her to the Ulfric in time? Tears joined his sweat in droplets, but he didn’t bother to wipe them. When his lungs refused