An Undying Love Read online

  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 wooden latch-style handle, and it looked very much like something from a different time period. There was nothing else in the room, except for the dusty cobwebs that adorned the corners. The walls, floor and ceiling were reminiscent of some sort of hand-built tiny cabin. Anya knew one thing for sure. This was not her home, and the smell of a man she didn’t recognize was all about the room.

  As she attempted to move, fear washed over her. She couldn’t feel her legs. The memories slammed into her then. She’d snuck across the bay, had entered enemy territory and had been hunted down. They’d shot her and now she had no doubt she was a prisoner of the Temple Island pack.

  The bullet must have injured her back, but it would heal. As a werewolf, she healed from some pretty amazing injuries. However, she doubted the enemy would allow her to live long enough for that to happen. If she was anywhere else, within a week she’d be back on her feet, but there, she doubted she’d live more than a day. Panic slowly seeped into her at the direness of the situation.

  The sounds of heavy boots on wooden steps filtered into the tiny room, driving the feeling of dread higher in her. The sound stopped for a moment, then she heard something being unlocked and the rattling of a chain. Slowly the door creaked open. The small amount of light from the candles illuminated the imposing figure in the doorway, and her heart caught in her throat. As the enormous man stepped inside, she saw his eyes were a near golden -yellow.

  His face was hard chiseled lines, his lips pressed together tightly as he glared at her. The dark complexion of his skin reminded her of a deep bronze suntan. He was rather tall and wide, and it added to the menace she felt as he took a step inside and closed the door. He tilted his head and eyed her. It didn’t help the feeling of fear she was becoming overwhelmed with.

  “Silverback,” he said with a snarl.

  Too afraid, Anya said nothing as he glared at her. His temple pulsed where a long scar ran along his black hair. The pounding in her chest hurt. She knew instinctively this was the Temple Island pack’s alpha, and the hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end.

  “What is your name?” he demanded. Anya did not answer. She simply stared at him. Her own fear had taken her voice.

  He moved closer, standing right beside the bed, looming over her. His large muscles strained against his denim-clad legs and his burly chest heaved slightly as he sniffed the air. Anya swallowed. She just now realized how thirsty she was.

  “Tell me your name, Silverback,” he said with a growl. This time his words echoed in the small room.

  “Anya,” she whispered hoarsely. She hadn’t meant for it sound so meek, it was never good to show fear to an enemy.

  He raised an eyebrow, a look of keen interest showing on his face. She knew she’d made a mistake telling him her name as an almost evil smile crossed his lips.

  “The alpha’s baby sister. Well, well, it looks as if you just made yourself into an invaluable guest.” He eyed her face, the look changing from a hard glare to something Anya couldn’t quite fathom.

  “I’ll send for some food and water,” he said still smiling. “Then you and I are going to have a nice long talk.”

  Tears welled in her eyes after he turned and walked out the door. She heard the chain again and a lock sliding into place. There was no doubt if her brother found out she’d disobeyed him, he would be furious. But right now there was a bigger problem to worry about. This was not the outcome she’d wanted on this excursion. Having always been the sneakiest wolf within her pack, she’d never thought she would get caught. But after finding the pool she’d become so absorbed in all the tales she’d heard, her mind had been distracted it had left her vulnerable.

  When she’d left her small village that morning, she’d lied to Mitch, saying she was going hunting. Being nearly fifteen years younger than her brother had made her life a lot harder than it had for most. Mitch had been left to care for both her and her twin, Alex, when their mother had passed away ten years ago. He acted at times more like a father, a very overprotective one at that. She’d never known her dad. Mitch was the one who had enacted that role.

  Mitch had warned her not to go out hunting alone. He knew she was a bit too curious for her own good. That inquisitiveness had led her to the island, to see if the tales of an ancient temple to the Wolf Lord were genuine. She’d heard the stories all her life. It was supposed to be the birth place to their kind. It was rumored if you drink from the water that lay still in the center of the altar of the temple you would find your tr
ue mate. Silly old tales, but ones she’d very much hoped were real.

  That was the reason she’d taken her brother’s small boat out there to the island across the bay. This was a forbidden place for her people as it was also enemy territory. However, she didn’t care. At twenty-one years old, Anya still had not found a mate. Her alpha brother had tried to introduce her to a couple available werewolves who he approved of. Nevertheless, she wasn’t attracted to any of them. To young, too old or too arrogant, none seeing her as an equal only as a possession they craved to acquire. She would have none of it.

  Anya longed for a mate. Her insides went cold when she saw others who had found theirs, and she was jealous. Mitch would never understand. He had Kari, and they were soon expecting their fifth child. Still living in the family house with her brother, Kari and the kids, it only added to Anya’s loneliness. Coming there she’d hoped to drink the water in the ancient temple, and hoped beyond all hope that the legends were true.

  * * * *

  The attractive young woman lying in the bed had stared at him with fearful eyes. He’d smelled how scared she’d been as it lay heavy in the room. He needed her scared, needed her to think the worst. It would make getting the answers he needed easier. As alpha, he would do whatever it took to protect his pack, including killing interlopers. However, he really had no intentions of killing the lovely young woman. He would have let her escape had it not been for Memphis shooting her.

  Dante walked to his brother’s cabin, his mind filled by the image of his helpless captive. The enemy’s little sister made one hell of a mistake coming there. Surely to god, she’d known the consequence if she were to get caught, he thought. She’d forfeited her rights to be protected by the laws set out that all werewolves obeyed just by trespassing on another pack’s territory.

  As he stepped up to his brother’s home, he had to wonder why she would do such a foolhardy thing. Dante knocked on the door, and it was answered almost immediately, bringing his attention to the woman in front of him. His sister-in-law, Beth, stood there practically filling the doorway,

  “I knew you’d be by,” she told him with a smirk.

  “I need you to bring food, water and clean clothes to the prisoner. She may need some help getting cleaned up, and could you also recheck her wounds.”

  “Just give me a few minutes to find something she can put on,” she said and gestured for him to come in.

  “Oh, I’m not staying. I need to do a few things before I go back to talk with the girl. Come get me as soon as you’re done,” he said. “Here is the key to the padlock.” Dante passed it to her, and Beth gave him an odd look as she took it. He knew that expression all too well and hoped his interest in their guest hadn’t been that noticeable.

  Dante left and headed to his cabin. He had a strange urge to bathe and put better clothes on. A smile slid over his lips as he walked into his place. He wondered if her mate would be upset if he stole her for himself. He had little doubt her brother would be in an uproar if he took her, but that didn’t bother Dante. After what the Silverbacks had done to his family, any revenge would be only a small compensation. There would be nothing her mate or brother could do, she now belonged to him, and he had every right to do as he saw fit with his prisoner.

  While he heated a pot of water on the wood stove, Dante rummaged in his closet for something to wear and then he changed his mind. Why the hell did he need to impress the enemy? Nonetheless, he did wash up and even shaved. He had needed to do that anyway, and he told himself it wasn’t because of the girl. His mind kept drifting back to her, though. She was so very attractive with her long, blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and slender frame. He hadn’t caught the smell of her mate about her, but if she swam there, that scent would have been washed away.

  As he splashed some spicy-smelling cologne onto his face, he heard the soft knock at his door.

  “Come on in,” he yelled while he exited his small bedroom.

  As Beth stepped inside, her brown-eyed gaze darted over his home, and she scowled. He knew she would be back tomorrow to clean it up. The woman hated a mess, and Dante wasn’t much for keeping his place tidy.

  “We have a little problem,” Beth said.

  “What kind of problem?” he asked, trying to pull her attention away from the small mountain of laundry he’d told himself earlier he was going to wash.

  “The girl can’t move her legs.”

  He stared at her for a moment. The bullet had entered her upper hip and exited near the middle of her back, but he hadn’t thought about it paralyzing her.

  “Is she in pain?” he asked. It struck him as a little odd. She hadn’t shown him any signs of it when he’d been in there.

  “No, she can’t feel anything from her waist down. I imagine she’ll be fine within the week.”

  “Is she cleaned up and dressed?” he asked. She would heal, but still it bothered him that Memphis had injured her so badly.

  “Yes. What do you plan to do with her?” Beth asked as she stood there eyeing him.

  His sister-in-law was an imposing woman, standing nearly six feet tall. Her long, black hair was kept back in a braid. Her rounding tummy was full of life, and it had only made her harder to deal with. Strong-willed and obstinate, she could bring most men to their knees with her sharp tongue and dominate stature. She stood there with her hand on her hip. She cast a suspicious look at him. Her gaze held his, nearly demanding him to tell her.

  “I’m not sure yet, but whatever it is, it’s none of your concern, Beth. She’s an enemy,” he stated sternly.

  Dante knew what he wanted to do, although he seriously doubted Anya would be willing, and he couldn’t do that to a woman.

  “Well, you should know then she’s not mated.” Dante nearly groaned out loud. Beth already had an idea of his intentions, and by her tone, she wasn’t pleased.

  “How do you know that?” he asked.

  “I asked her.”

  “Oh.” Dante never thought about asking the girl if she had a mate. He’d just assumed she had one.

  “Now I need to get home to get my bread rising for the morning. I’ll be over after lunch to clean this up,” she said with a light snort and turned and left him standing there.

  When he had learned that Anya had no mate, it did strange things to Dante’s insides. The feeling left him perplexed, just as much as why the hell she would come there. An unmated werewolf female of his enemy’s pack had practically delivered herself right to him. He forced the smile off his face as he left his cabin and made for the tiny shack they held the girl in. She was definitely a prize and one he needed to use very carefully to get the full benefits. If he were a vengeful man, he would have killed her, but he couldn’t do that. Mating her would be a more fitting revenge after what her family had done.

  To mate her all he had to do was to bed her. It was just that simple. Wolves would stay together for life unless their mate was stolen or killed. Although, unmated werewolves still could have sex with humans, there was no connection that formed between them. It was only created when two werewolves mated. Dante himself at one time had a small string of human female lovers in his youth before he’d been mated.

  He was without a mate now. She’d died five years ago, and he’d been having a hell of a time finding one who he thought would make a good alpha female. His mate had only been with him for a month. They really hadn’t even gotten to know one another. It’d been an arranged mating, and it’d benefited both their packs. The loss was hard, but he knew all too well if he’d had feelings for her it would have been so much worse.

  As he unlocked the padlock and removed the chain, he had to wonder what had happened to Anya’s mate. She was far too pretty and more than old enough to have been mated at least once, so he assumed she had to have lost hers. Dante walked inside and forced his face back into the menacing stern glare he’d put on before. He didn’t want her to see any weakness in him, which would not be good in trying to gain the information he so desperately
needed to learn.

  His little sister, Cora, had disappeared, and it was rumored that one of the Silverbacks had her. Taken forcibly by one of their males, no doubt. The pack had done it before, taking another’s mate against her will. It was what he assumed had happened to Cora, but without proof there was nothing he could do. This girl would have answers, and he planned on getting them from her.

  Chapter Three

  Anya looked up from the bed as the man again entered the tiny room. His gaze locked with hers and held it. She trembled ever so slightly as he closed the door and then stepped up to the bed.

  “Anya, it’s time we had a little talk. My name is Dante, and you have some information I need,” he said as she stared up at him.

  “What do you want?” she asked, trying not to sound afraid.

  “I want to know what your pack did with Cora,” he said with a growl.

  “Cora? I don’t know anyone by that name.” Anya lied. Lying was not really something she was good at, and although she managed to hold his gaze, she knew he didn’t buy it.

  “You’re lying to me.” Dante snarled, verifying her thoughts as he glared down at her.

  Cora was her twin brother’s mate. Alex had met Cora in town. The two started seeing one another behind everyone’s back. Everyone’s except hers. As twins, they shared a great deal, and Anya was Alex’s closest confidant. Mitch had refused to allow the mating, and Cora had told Anya there was no way her family would allow it either. When the two decided to elope, Anya had given them all the money she had saved so they could run away together. But there was no way she was about to tell Dante any of that.

  The man sat on the bed, suddenly tearing her mind from those thoughts as his weight made the wooden frame creak slightly. His gaze had not left her, and Anya refused to look away. She would not be made submissive to him by doing that.