An Undying Love Read online




  An Undying Love

  Janet MacDonald

  Edited by Marisa Chenery

  Cover design by April Martinez

  Copyright 2013 Janet MacDonald. Published by Forever More Publishing, 31 Wycliffe Place, Kitchener, Ontario, N2M 5J6, Canada. 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, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-92785-912-4

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Blurb

  Anya sneaks off to the ancient ruins on Temple Island in the hopes that the legends are true, but it lies in enemy territory. The one thing she desires the most she hopes to find there. Her excursion takes a catastrophic twist, and she ends up a prisoner and her captor uses her for the safe return of his sister. But the tug of an ancient longing—one her brother will never allow—claims her.

  Dante catches an interloper in his pack’s territory. The pretty young female werewolf captures his attention in ways he never thought possible. He hoped to use her to learn of his sister’s whereabouts, but he soon feels the pull to keep Anya for himself.

  With outside forces trying to come between them, the love they share is put at risk, and Dante may lose Anya forever.

  Dedication

  Dedicated to my daughters, Bretony, Sydney and Cathy, by far the best accomplishment I have ever created. Also to my best friends Steve, Richard and Big Brother Phil, who have encouraged me not to give up.

  Acknowledgments

  To Marisa at Forever More Publishing, my editor and publisher. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.

  To the girls on my Facebook page, who so diligently read everything I write.

  A special thanks goes to Ana, Asha, Charlene, Gina, Holly, Ihekaria, Jennifer, Kelli, Melody and Tina. You drive me to always do better and are by far the most constant driving force behind my writing. You girls are the best!

  Prologue

  Looking out over the bay, Terra knew she would never return to the island. Her home, her mate and the rest of her pack were lost to her now. It’d been nearly five months since Samson stole her from Jared. They’d come to trade goods with them, and the alpha had taken her in the middle of the night while Jared had been away. Before anyone had known what happened, she’d been gone. The large ship the Silverbacks had could cross the bay. It was something her own pack did not have, and this was the first time one of her own had ever set foot on the mainland.

  The Silverback pack had set up camp only a few miles from there, and Terra liked to come to this spot to clear her thoughts. This was the most beautiful place she’d ever seen. It afforded a full view of the bay. The swells smashed into the cliff face far below where she stood. The sound almost drowned out the birds gliding on the evening breeze. The sky was painted in a brilliant mix of blues, purples and pinks as the sun dipped down on the horizon. She had to return to her new mate, Samson. Her heart grew heavy at the thought. If not for the child growing in her womb, Terra would have rather died than be without Jared.

  It was not of Samson’s blood, not that she would tell him. Jared had not known of her being with child, she had not gotten the chance. Someday, she prayed, they could be together again, that her soul mate and her would be reunited and made whole once more.

  Stepping away from the cliff, she gathered up the long skirt Samson told her to wear and began the trek back to the encampment. She did not like the clothes or the fact she had to wear her hair up in a bun instead of long and loose. And the shoes hurt her feet. She preferred her doe skin dress and to run bare foot. As she entered the forest, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. A long, lone ethereal howl of such heartache drifted on the winds. Jared. She turned her head to look at the bay and something inside pulled at her, and her heart felt as if it’d just shattered. Terra knew with all her being that her soul mate had called to her in his passing. She felt his death, knew right down to her soul he was gone. Crashing to her knees, she screamed out her own sorrow, swearing to find him in the next life.

  Chapter One

  Temple Island

  The warm breeze had all but died down as Anya slipped into the shelter of the ancient stone structure. The air within was dusty, and the rays of the late day sun caused the dust in the air to glitter like floating specks of gold. The moss-covered stone walls had stood there for more years than anyone knew. At the center of the large open space was a raised dais. A stone altar of the blackest basalt stuck out in the otherwise empty room.

  Anya’s legs trembled ever so slightly as excitement and fear filled her. The legends had to be true, she thought as she walked carefully over and leapt up onto the altar. The pool sat there just as the tales had told, her reflection looking back at her in the brackish water. Gingerly, she sniffed it. It stank to high heaven. Twitching her ears, she steeled herself, pawed the water to get the film off the top and took a tentative lap.

  The taste nearly made her regurgitate the water, and she shivered as a bone-chilling feeling coursed over her. It was as if a cold icy shroud had enveloped her. It gave her goose bumps even in her wolf form. For a brief moment, she thought she saw the reflection of a woman’s face in the water staring back at her. The ghostly image was superimposed over Anya’s white furred face on the surface on the water. She shook her head and it was gone.

  A sudden snapping sound from behind her caused her to leap from the stone surface. She knew in an instant she’d been discovered, and she bolted for the small cave-in at the far corner. Squeezing through it was easy, and Anya didn’t bother or wish to turn around to see the cause of the noise. She caught the scent of horses and men as she fled down the stone path, which led out of the ancient courtyard around the temple. As she ran down it, she heard the quick, hard pounding of hooves on the hard-packed trail.

  Weaving in and around trees, over deadwood and down a sloped embankment, she was hard-pressed to lose them. The forest was only thick in a few places, not making it easy for her to evade them. Their horses were able to follow unhindered by the sparseness of the underbrush. Anya’s only hope was to make the water before they caught her.

  Racing down the path toward the shore, Anya felt as if her heart would explode. Her own heavy panting filled her ears as her paws dug into the soft soil of the small fallow field overlooking the bay. The muscles in her legs and chest burned. She ran as fast as she could for the next half hour on adrenaline as her energy diminished. She’d managed to just keep ahead of them, but if she slowed, they’d be on top of her.

  Anya had planned on being home long before dark. The small outboard motor boat had made the trip in less than two hours, and if her brother, Mitch, found it missing he would have a fit. Now, as she propelled herself toward the cove where the craft was hidden, she realized she was in a whole lot more trouble than what her brother would dish out. The sun was already starting to set, and if she didn’t make the bay before her pursuers, she might never get off the island alive. Mitch, or anyone else in her pack, didn’t know where she’d gone, and now she really wished she hadn’t come there.

  The rustling sounds of some
one breaking through the small trees and shrubs from behind her had her trying to run faster. Her thick fur coat had protected her from the brambles when she bulldozed through the same area her pursuers now followed her from. Fear gripped her heart. She saw the small embankment just before the shoreline.

  The sudden retort of a rifle echoed through the air, and the bullet whizzed across her flank. She felt the brushing of something against her, and it took a tuft of fur with it. Never in all her life had she been so utterly terrified. She started running in a more rabbit style, shifting her movements from left to right, trying to make it harder for whoever was shooting at her. Anya really wished she’d heeded her brother’s words this morning about not to straying too far from home.

  With the bank so close, she pushed even harder, leaping over a fallen tree in the hopes it made it harder for the hunters. Her paws barely touched the soft muddy slope as she skittered down it. There being just over twenty feet to the water, she felt elated as her claws ripped up the sandy shore. Just as she made another jump to clear the last few feet, something slammed into her right haunch a split second before the retort of the rifle. The burning pain elicited a yelp from her. She was hit.

  As her body hit the cold water with a splash, shock washed over her. Anya went into instinct mode as her mind fought not to be lost in the surge of panic flooding her. Doing the dog paddle with her front paws to try to gain some more distance, she weakened very quickly. She realized her back legs were not working. Her hind quarters dragged her down.

  When her head dipped under, she tried not to swallow any of the salty sea water. Struggling to get her face back up for air didn’t work, and she sank lower. All around her the waters were being stained a muddled pink. As her paws clawed at the water, it stirred the murky color around, making seeing impossible.

  The necessity to breathe had her lungs on fire. The pressure building inside her as the need became all she could think about. I’m going to die, she thought as her lungs forced her to inhale. Water rushed into them in place of the air they craved. The painfully invasion of salty brine tore at her lungs as her mind struggled to stay conscious. Anya lost the battle, and just as everything faded into darkness, she felt a large, powerful hand grip her by the fur on the scruff of her neck.

  * * * *

  Dante awoke to a rumbling stomach. His late night of drinking hadn’t helped the sleepiness he felt, and now he was slightly hungover as well. Tossing his legs out of bed, his feet hit the hardwood floor of his cabin. He found it a little chilly and jerked them back up. He grabbed his socks from the pile of clothes messily lying beside the bed, then slipped them on before again putting his feet down. He yanked his pants on and then reached for his shirt, mentally telling himself he had to do laundry tonight after he scouted the perimeter of the pack’s territory.

  The sudden loud banging on his cabin door reverberated through his head, not aiding the mild headache he had. It was not a pleasant way to start his morning. With a grumble, he walked toward the door.

  He wrenched it open just as the young, grinning man standing there prepared to beat at the door again. “What do you want?” he asked with a growl at Memphis as he smiled even wider. It made the man look younger, making Dante feel old.

  “Oh, I was hoping you were up,” he said and barged past Dante.

  “Please come in,” Dante said sarcastically with another low growl. The pup had no common sense. Irritating one’s alpha after a wild night of partying was a bad idea. Dante had drunk way too much of his brother, Chris’, home-brewed beer. He should have known better. It was pretty potent stuff.

  He watched Memphis stroll to the small kitchen table and sit, before turning to look back at him. Yes, please have a seat, Dante thought with a snide tone. Instead, he snapped, “What the hell do you want this early in the damn morning?”

  “You told me to come by first thing, remember?” he told him, his face looking expectant.

  “Memphis, I don’t even remember coming home last night.” He fixed a pot of coffee and then pulled some eggs and smoked meat from the larder.

  “I’m supposed to be going with you to patrol the island.”

  “Oh yeah…” Dante began. He’d all but forgotten he’d told the pup he could join him today. His beta’s son was working his way to replacing his father. Ned was wheelchair ridden, and truthfully should have been replaced as beta shortly after he’d lost his legs two years ago. However, Dante could not do that to him, and no one in his pack questioned his decision to keep Ned as his beta.

  After eating and getting dressed, Dante met Memphis out by the barn, and they saddled up their horses before heading out of the small archaic-looking village. Not much had changed around there in the past hundred years. There was no running water, no electricity and no phone service, although he did have a cell phone he used in case of emergencies. They also kept a small generator for the little amount of electricity they needed for certain things like the community freezer.

  When they needed particular items like fuel, clothing, sugar, coffee or what have you, they simply took their boats across the bay to the mainland and traded handcrafted goods for them at the Brookville General Store. The old man who ran it was a lone wolf, but he had the decency to barter with Dante’s pack. Their primary resource for any cash was from their fishing fleet. It was only a handful of boats, but it helped to support the pack during the more lean years.

  The morning went by without much incident and Dante showed his eager young pack mate the areas he routinely patrolled. They really never had any problems there, not even in the height of winter when the bay froze enough to travel over the ice. They were too far out for the mainland packs to bother with them. Once in a while an attack would come from the Silverback pack, but it’d been nearly two decades since their enemy had set foot there. Dante truthfully wasn’t too worried about them showing their mugs any time soon.

  Those thoughts changed, though, as they neared the ruins of the old temple. Their horses became skittish while they tethered them down at the base of the long narrow path. Their animals were used to their scent, but not outsiders. Dante gestured for Memphis to follow quietly as they walked to the ancient site on foot. The old stone walls that had surrounded the place had all but succumbed to the years of neglect and decay. Heavy green moss grew on them so thick there were only a few places one could see the stones.

  The actual temple still stood, although the roof had collapsed and the stone steps were cracked and shifted out of position. The place had fallen into decay in a time when white men hadn’t even set foot on this continent. The pack Dante now led were all descendants from the original werewolves of the island. His own lineage traced back to Jared, the Wolf Lord himself. The progenitor of all their kind it was said, but whether that tale was true or not was something no one knew for sure.

  As the pair of them walked to where a great oak door once was, Dante reached out and stopped Memphis from moving any farther. He heard the faint rustling of movement from within the ruins. It was too soft a noise to be a stray steer from their herd, which roamed free. Yet it was not quiet enough to be a small animal like a rabbit or raccoon, either. Again, he heard the noise and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. As Dante lowered his rifle from his shoulder, Memphis did the same with his.

  No one was supposed to come there other than himself and his beta. This was sacred ground. Every member of his pack knew this and had obeyed it, which meant an outsider was in there. Putting his finger to his lips for the young man to be quiet, he motioned for him to move to the side entrance. As Memphis disappeared around the side, Dante stealthily stepped in under the archway. The sun was setting behind him, and soon it would be dark. They needed to see who or what was inside before they lost the light or they would have to shift.

  Dante could just see Memphis as he cleared the other opening, entering nearer to the center. He moved as silently as Dante in the debris cast about the stone floor. It wasn’t hard to see the form at the far end of the d
ecayed interior. The white fur made it nearly shine within the gloomy hall. The last rays of sunlight that filtered in bathed over the animal, making it look eerie within the sacred temple. It wasn’t a very large wolf, maybe a hundred pounds or so. To him it looked very young, he surmised based upon its size.

  Even though there was no breeze, he caught the slight lingering of the animal’s scent and knew it was a female. A lost pup or a real wolf, he wasn’t sure. In their animal forms they smelled exactly like a normal wolf, and there really was no way to tell the difference until one shifted. Just like other wolves, his own kind didn’t tend to stray far from their pack, unless it was a lone wolf. Perhaps one who’d been tossed out of a pack for one reason or another, or maybe it looked for shelter.

  Dante was curious as to how such an animal came to be on the island. The bay was normally far too rough for even a werewolf to swim across. And a boat should have been seen or heard by his scouts who routinely patrolled the shore line. As he studied the wolf, he was a bit mesmerized by its graceful movements as it crept toward the large stone altar. It leapt up onto the slab that dominated the back of the room, sniffed it and pawed at the water lying in the basin-like groove in its center. It lapped up the water and then shuddered all over. He figured the thing had to be exceedingly thirsty to drink stale old rain water. He was pretty sure no werewolf in their right mind would drink gross, stagnant water so it had to be a real wolf.

  As beautiful and rare as the sight was, they couldn’t have real wolves there. They had a tendency to go after the pack’s livestock or mate with his pack. In their wolf forms a female in heat was irresistible to a male and vice versa. It didn’t matter then if it 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.