Orphan Wolf (Wolves of Wisconsin Book 3)

  Orphan

  Wolf

  A

  Wolves of Wisconsin Novel

  By: Marie Fraser

  Orphan Wolf

  This publication is part of a series of products and publications. For more information, please visit: http://www.Operation40k.com/.

  To get more information on Operation $40K, please visit: http://www.Operation40k.com/.

  Copyright 2018 Marie Fraser

  All RIGHTS RESERVED. One or more global copyright treaties protect the information in this document. This Special Report is not intended to provide exact details or advice. This report is for informational purposes only. Author reserves the right to make any changes necessary to maintain the integrity of the information held within. This Special Report is not presented as legal or accounting advice. All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission of the copyright owner.

  NOTICE OF LIABILITY

  In no event, shall the author or the publisher be responsible or liable for any loss of profits or other commercial or personal damages, including but not limited to special incidental, consequential, or any other damages, in connection with or arising out of furnishing, performance or use of this book.

  All Characters, events and locations in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, dead or living, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover art: Sabrina Ihadadene

  Prologue

  Orphan and bereft of love, Joshua, leader of the Arikara clan has always had a lonely life. But the pack had provided him a home; a place to belong when he was reduced to nothing. However, now Joshua has a dark, dark secret. One he cannot even imagine letting his members know. For it would mean destroying the only thing he’s had his entire life.

  Joshua has a beast. A wicked beast that awakes every night in his heart, and makes him kill a little boy.

  Torn between shame and anxiety, he meets Samantha, the DNR investigator assigned to the case, and cannot help falling in love. But Joshua must first figure out how to kill the beast within him. And Samantha must take her steps forward. She must pick between love and her career.

  When Samantha finds out his secret, she must decide one thing. To love the beast or to tame it? The Antigo County sat cloaked in an unsettling darkness. The skies stretched far and wide overhead, not a single star glimmering in the distance. Even the tress stood lanky and unmoving. No rushing fall of water. No wind whispering through leaves. At this hour, no life stirred.

  A moment ago, men, women and children had paced the grimy dank streets; the monstrous night wave forcing them behind bolted doors. The air that had hummed with a troubled urgency, only a few seconds ago, now stood still. The chillness was sharp. The night thicker than ever.

  Then slowly and gradually, the dense clouds parted. And blinding silver light rained upon the rotten county. A spark of electricity slipped into the air, drawing the people to their windows. Bewildered gazes glued to the sky.

  It was entirely bizarre.

  After days, - no months of moonless nights, it appeared that God had finally decided to light up their county’s pitch-black nights. People stood rooted to their spots, hands clapped over their mouths, eyes petrified in disbelief. As they watched, the large yellow moon hanging too low in the sky.

  The air sang its usual silent song. Until an earth-shattering scream sliced it apart.

  In the middle of the woods, in a shabby dingy cottage, a woman shrieked in bed. Sweat beaded on her flushed forehead. She ground her teeth, doubling over in pain.

  “Push harder, bitch!”

  Ten paces across her, a man leaned back in his seat. Wearing an annoyed expression, he ran his fingers through his greasy hair. Sophia had been screeching like a fucking bat since an hour. Ethan was getting restless now. He dropped his head in his laps, stuffing rough fingers into his ears.

  Sophia held her body stiff, panting as she felt the baby kick at her cervix. Though she was only clad in her bra, her body was steaming. Possibly from the effort. Sophia clutched at her boobs, as the baby kicked harder. A growl of a laugh escaped Ethan’s mouth. But his behavior no longer felt appalling. Sophia had spent long months being ridiculed in ugly, dark pubs by vagabonds, while her husband sat by, simply bemused. She had been disgusted and furious then. Now, she was merely tired. Her pregnancy had provided her with a motive to live for. Her dismal days were lit by the hope that one day her baby would enter this world and grow into an individual who’ll make a difference. Set the wrongs right. Make her proud.

  Sophia could sense a head popping out. All her strength was waning out, yet she struggled against the flooding weakness. Her limbs were numb with the pain. Mind cut raw by the lurching in her womb. She pushed harder. A pant. And, harder. A weak gulp. Harder, and her cervix muscles relaxed.

  A whimpering cry shot through the cabin. Ethan’s head snapped up. He rose to his feet, hardly glancing at his wife who lied half dead, and took the baby in his hairy arms. He peered down. Behind him, moonlight streamed through the windows, pooling the baby’s eyes. Sophia caught his chest heaving, body shifting under the weight of the moonlight. However, she averted her gaze to her husband. Sophia’s eyes were fixed on his face, filled with anticipation. Under the dim lantern light, she could only make out half of Ethan’s face. She waited. And then, her heart fell.

  Ethan’s lips tipped down. An enraged grimace occupied his face as he slammed the baby down on the bed.

  “He looks horrendous! Fucking demon.”

  Her baby’s cries echoed through her ears, and Sophia felt a knife slit her insides. After all the pain, all the acute submission, the secret moaning – and the agony of it all, he was still angry.

  He sank into the bed beside her bare legs. The awful stench of cigarette smoke that issued off his dirty clothes, made her choke in disgust.

  “Got those nasty looks from his mother, of course,” he was blabbering to himself, fingers picking at his shirt’s button. He craned his head back, meeting his wife’s wretched face. “Even a girl would be better than this beast. At least, she could help with some of the chores.”

  Anger flared through Sophia. But when she opened her mouth to retort, her breath caught in her chest. Ethan had pinched ruthlessly at the tender skin between her legs. Sophia glanced at him aghast. Warm blood coursed through her vagina, spilling on the bed.

  “You’re a useless woman, Sofia. Only some fun in bed.” He scowled at her lower body. “And now you’ve wet the sheets. Clean that up, before I get back.” Ethan grabbed the baby, and strode towards the door. At every heavy pound of his feet on the thin floorboards, Sophia’s heart skipped a frail beat.

  “W-Where are you taking my baby?” Her voice quivered, as wicked possibilities rushed into her mind.

  Ethan shot her a sly look. “Somewhere, he truly deserves to be.” He turned around, a cunning whistle playing around his lips. “The trash.”

  Chapter 1

  Emma Summers stood anxiously across from her boss, as he scanned her article quietly. She wrapped her arms around her, already thinking of all the possible ways she would enjoy if only her article got published. And all the ways she would mourn if it wouldn’t. Emma discarded the latter thought instantly.

  But really though, what if it wouldn’t?

  Emma let out a soft gulp. She had worked day and night on this. She had to get this right. She was already running low on finances, her animal shelter house was close to permanent shut down, and she had drowned herself in a sea of debts she knew, would take an eternity to pay back. There was too much on stake.

&n
bsp; Mr. Ben Stone drummed his fingers restlessly on the tabletop. The ensuing noise snapped Emma out of her reverie. With deep creases forming on his forehead, he cupped his cheek, musing. Emma held her breath. Mr. Stone scratched the pen at his temple and frowned. Oh god, Emma’s stomach twisted in agony.

  “I love your writing style, Emma.” He smiled, lifting his gaze off the sheet. “Have always loved it, in fact. But the central idea -” He pressed his lips together and tapped his pen lightly at the sheet. He was clearly disappointed. “– is the usual. Nothing new. Now, I know,” he said, throwing his hands up at Emma’s crestfallen face, “there’s not something exciting to talk about in the animal health section, but you could at least be a little creative. Twist some ideas.” He rose from his seat, walking over to her. “Come on, I expect great things from you, Emma. One more shot. Make it big, this time. Who knows, might even make the front page.” He patted her shoulder affectionately, winking boyishly.

  Emma gave him a sheepish smile and made her way out of his office. Despite Mr. Stone’s sweet words and perhaps genuine encouragements, she felt utterly hopeless. She did make it ‘big’ this time. Emma groaned. She wanted to kill herself for failing yet again. Was Life really bullshit? Or did she just get a very big share?

  Emma slid into her car seat and hit the engines. A loud gurgling noise reminded her yet again how poor she was. Even her car would die out one of these days.

  On the way, Emma met no traffic. Only because she was headed far south. She realized she needed a long, relaxing break. Something to smooth her mind and get her back on the track. Her head still buzzing with the day’s events, she pulled over at a local bar.

  Sliding past the doors, Emma strolled inside. The place was nicer than her expectations. And brimming with people. She reckoned that was a good thing, as in this way her vexed self wouldn’t stand out. There was a long counter where drinks were constantly being served. Emma sank into one of the chairs.

  “Champagne, please,” Emma called out to the nearest bartender and he nodded. She rubbed her eyes. Her head still felt too heavy. She wanted to lie down, stretch her limbs, get a long rest as soon as she could. The bartender returned with a goblet, and Emma downed it in one go. The liquid felt cool and refreshing against her dry throat. She licked at her lips hungrily. That was cue enough for the bartender, and he returned with a refill. Emma tried sipping slowly, but the champagne felt so good, so relaxing as it hit her stomach; spun her strained mind, that she gulped it all down. Emma let her eyelids close and took a deep breath. Suddenly, everything felt wonderful. Peaceful.

  Whoa, the drink really was strong. But she didn’t care.

  Emma snapped her eyes open. Luckily, the bartender was still standing across the counter, waiting for another indication.

  “More,” Emma gasped, pushing her goblet forward. “Two more, please.”

  Emma leaned back in her chair, spreading her legs forward. But the chair was low-edged, and Emma’s head fell backward. Too drunken to maintain her stance, she sensed herself toppling over, when an arm jerked her into seat. Emma batted her eyes at the stranger. Everything was spinning in front of her. The lights; the dance floor; those gray eyes – everything melting away. An arm curled around her, and though Emma wanted to recoil at the touch she did not understand why. She was being led away. Away from the blissful counter.

  “But my champagne,” she mumbled childishly.

  “No more champagne for you. That’s quite enough for the night, I presume.” The voice felt tensed, and possibly…concerned. Emma couldn’t understand what was happening. Was she hurt? But she didn’t feel any pain. Though her feet kept buckling under her.

  Moments later, she was in a sofa, the hum of the bar music a little softer now. A glass was pushed to her mouth.

  “Drink this. It’s water.” Emma tried holding her gaze. She screwed her eyes, looking suspiciously at the water first, and then at the stranger offering it. The man laughed.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to poison you. I’m actually trying to help.”

  But Emma held the glass stubbornly, not choosing to drink in case the man was lying. Though there was something very innocent about those eyes.

  “Come on, you’re too drunk right now. Water will help regain your composure.”

  Hesitantly, Emma took a few sips. It tasted fine. She swallowed it quickly. She pulled at her legs, and rubbed her eyes, desperately trying to clear her vision. After a few more glasses of water, Emma finally felt herself getting sober.

  “Emma,” she said, holding her hand out. “Thank you.”

  The man shook it, smiling. “Jason. No worries.”

  “Bad day?” He asked, sliding his cell phone out of his pocket.

  “You wouldn’t believe.” Emma groaned, glancing around her restlessly. It was getting dark. She should probably leave and look for a hotel to stay the night.

  “Oh?” Jason raised his brows, clearly bemused. He leaned forward, dropping his voice to a soft whisper. “I know things, that you’ll probably kill yourself before believing.”

  “Well, if such is the case, then why do you believe them?”

  “Because I know they’re real – because I’ve seen them with my own eyes.”

  Emma threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “Oh, please don’t ruin the suspense by telling me that we’re talking about ghosts. Or worse, boogey monsters.” She rolled her eyes, but Jason simply leaned back in his seat, too bored to argue.

  “See? Like I said, you wouldn’t believe. Besides, I can’t tell you, anyways. So there’s no point debating.”

  Emma huffed, rising up. Jason chuckled while surfing through his mobile.

  “What?” Emma shot him a confused look, and he smirked.

  “It’s Aiyana – my girlfriend. She says that if I don’t get back home by nine, she’ll leave me in the woods, right under a full moon. But obviously, you don’t get that joke.” He sighed, and Emma let out a loud groan.

  “Yes, obviously,” she offered him a forced smile, “Since I actually intend to keep my sanity.”

  “And yet you let yourself get drunk at an unknown bar you’re visiting alone, despite knowing that it’s a local pub, with men you would not wish to attract the attention of. I must say,” he sniggered, “it’s a perfect way to maintain your ‘sanity.’”

  Emma turned away wearily. Stamping her feet, she made her way out to her car. But as she opened the door to get in, she heard a wailing sound from behind. Emma’s ears instantly stood up, alert. Turning around, she stepped towards the unceasing noise. It was coming from the woods. Having a veterinarian degree, Emma had a good idea that the sound belonged to a fox. Or possibly a wolf. With every step, the noise grew louder and Emma’s senses grew sharper. Any normal person would have simply ignored the noise, and trekked home. But not Emma. To her, it was a living animal. An animal, in help. And she would do whatever in her power to get it aid.

  Around her, the darkness grew thicker. Emma switched on the flashlight app on her phone. She was deep in the forest now. She could hear the hooting of far-off owls, the hissing sound of slithering creatures. Emma gulped. Perhaps, she had been too foolish. Trying to show-off courage once again. Instantly deciding to rush back, she spun on her heels. But a looming figure caught her eye. Emma inched closer.

  Right there, on a huge gray stone, a baby wolf sat. It was cloaked in a thick layer of snowy fur, that glimmered pearl-white under the moonlight. Every second, a helpless moan escaped its blade-sharp fangs, and Emma felt her stomach twist horribly at the sound. It was simply magical.

  As she cradled its soft body in her arms, Emma caught its crocodile green eyes twinkling. A mischievous energy had entered them. Emma held it closer to the moonlight, and the baby wolf shut its eyes, breathing heavily as its body squirmed with a fervid energy. In a fraction of a second, its eyes snapped open and it nudged its head closer to her chest, wagging its tail.

  The wolf was finally home.

  Placing it carefully in a metal c
ontainer, Emma carried it back to her car. The engines roared, and Emma plunged into the darkness, heading straight to her animal shelter house.

  * * * * * * * *

  When Emma reached her animal shelter house, she found it in almost ruins. With no maintenance in the past six months, the house was reaching its end. She pushed open the wooden front door, and a horrible miasma grappled her insides. Clapping a hand over her mouth, Emma maneuvered slowly through the darkness. Her flashlight helped make some of the rooms visible. It was a complete wreck. No electricity, water supply or sewage pipelines - it was absolutely pointless coming here. Emma cursed under her breath. She turned around and caught the baby wolf staring at her pensively. Emma caressed its head lightly.

  Emma had decided to bring it to her own house. It was probably not a good idea, nourishing a baby wolf in her own house, but there was something so strong about his look, that Emma couldn’t bear the idea of leaving it behind. Tucking it in an old mattress in her spare room, she decided to get some milk. When she returned, she found the wolf gone.

  The milk bottle slipped out of Emma’s limp fingers and crashed to the floor. Emma was rooted to the spot, utterly shocked.

  In the very place of the baby wolf, now slept a tiny baby boy, hair jet-black and shining despite the pale light. This was ridiculous. Emma placed her fingers lightly on his face and pulled them back instantly. His skin was scalding. But there was no flush in his features, no sign of a horrible fever, simply blatant calmness. His skin was as snowy as the wolf’s, the pearly shine still sharp.

  Moments elapsed, and Emma stood, the baby still clasped in her arms. Suddenly, it opened its eyes, and Emma’s breath caught in her chest. They were amber brown. Exactly like hers. Alarmed by what was happening, Emma dropped the baby back in bed, and bustled to her room, her legs failing to stand straight.

  She sank into her bed, heavily panting. The wolf had transformed. She gulped dreadfully at the reality of the thought. She knew it had. Emma was reminded of the eleven wolf incidents only a few months ago in the Oneida County. But it couldn’t possibly happen in her own state – the Antigo County? And besides, wasn’t that different? That was wolves attacking property, livestock…and sometimes humans. But not wolves becoming humans. Emma shuddered at the thought. Or was it really possible? Emma knew it had to be, since she only just witnessed it herself.