Orphan Wolf (Wolves of Wisconsin Book 3) Page 4

  “I am Noah Alexander Wesley. First-born of the great leader and ‘Mage’ of the wolf community, Louis George Wesley. Locally, I go by the name, Light Flayer; a title given after my lightning speed. Royals also address me as the Marked One; the chosen wolf, blessed with phenomenal powers. Unfortunately, there is only one of my kind every two centuries. Thus, with great powers, come great responsibilities. I scour the counties at night, hunting the evil-doers, those building schemes to rise up against Vilas, the royal county and my home, consequently disturbing the Natural Order.

  I’ve been sent to Antigo by the Wolf Mage to retrieve the orphan wolf. A task that was meant to be simple, but has been made difficult by these dark mysteries. These teil werewolves, for instance; their existence is unusual and impossible. But I intend to find the truth behind them.

  It is a journey that I must make alone. For I cannot fathom any danger or harm coming your way. Forgive me, Emma. But this is only for the best.

  I love you.”

  Noah had just talked to her by telepathy. He’d been in her mind. Emma shuddered at the thought – how long had he been reading her thoughts? Was it one more of his unusual powers?

  His voice was still fresh in her mind. His words, still unbelievable.

  He was a prince. And a werewolf. Though different than the others. There was only one like him in every two centuries. Emma was finding it very hard to digest. She glanced at him, and still caught his head drooping down. She tried linking back to him; this time, it was her that reached out to his mind. She didn’t know whether it worked that way. She simply closed her eyes, focusing on his voice. On his words. The beautiful image of his lips hovering in her mind. And then it clicked.

  “Noah,” she whispered. “You won’t get hurt right?”

  His voice came back shocked. “How - how did you slip in my mind?”

  “I don’t know.”

  A silence stretched between them.

  “No,” he said finally, amusement tugging his voice, “it has proved to be fairly difficult up till now.”

  There was another pause.

  “If there’s only one of you in such a long time, does this mean you’ll live two hundred years?”

  His reply came after a few long seconds. “I think so.”

  “Noah?” Emma’s voice was a gentle hush, lost far away.

  “Hmm?”

  “I love you too.”

  Noah’s head jerked up, and Emma caught two tiny tear droplets trickle down his face.

  Chapter 7

  Emma curled her body into a ball on the sofa, and silently watched Noah gather his weapons. A halo of energy burned around him. He was pacing the room swiftly now, strapping knife sharp blades in every nook of his body: the back of his neck, beneath the soles of his feet, at the wrists and a long and curved one at the waist. His golden morning star, however, went deep into his pant pockets.

  “You cut too deep!” Emma sprang out of the sofa, rushing to his side, and examined his hand under the light.

  Noah had been testing the sharpness of the blades by running it along the length of his palm, while Emma had agonizingly observed. The blood trickling down his fingers in tiny drops. However, this time the blood seeped out thick and rich. And a little too much.

  “It’s alright, Em,” Noah said lightly, “our skin heals quite fast.”

  And as absurd as it may sound, it was true. For even beneath the pale lamplight, Emma could easily discern his pearl-white skin stitching back together, the blood flow ceasing, and a narrow scar magically appear in its place. She caressed the edges of it, and Noah winced. There were so many more. Slender scars cris-crossing the back of his hand.

  Emma glanced up, his hand pressed to her chest, and caught him gazing back. His deep blue eyes reflecting a wide stretch of the night sky.

  Noah lifted her off the floor, her small body lost within his tough arms. His mouth crashed into hers. And Emma kissed back. It was so alive, so full of energy and meaning, that she didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want it to be their last.

  “Noah,” she whispered, as his lips traveled down to her neck, “promise me you’ll come back.”

  He cupped her cheeks, and he must have caught the tears pooling in her eyes, for his voice came gentle and assuring, “I won’t let those bastards snatch me away from you. I’ll run back home, Emma. I’ll come home to you.”

  Emma felt her heart explode, her chest close, and limbs numbing with the rush of feeling. She opened her mouth, inhaling a few jagged breaths, and felt Noah nuzzling her hair. His fingers traced the shape of her lips lightly, meandering up and down, and finally pulling away.

  He strode to the far end of the room. And Emma longed for the weight of his arms around her. Their absence was a hollow ache. She lumbered slowly behind him, her steps slow and unsteady. When they were at the threshold, he held her hand, fingers intertwining, and kissing her briefly on the lips. Gently, he slipped his hand away, his face slowly turning, and body striding away. Emma’s fingers hovered in the air. His blue eyes, the last sight that met her vision, before she lost him to the world outside.

  * * * * * * *

  Emma was slumped on the floor, legs drawn up, and arms curled around them. She was in her nightwear now, but felt no desire to sleep. It had been hours since Noah had felt. Hours since she’d eaten or drunk anything. The thin carpet had become her permanent residence; the spot where she spent her time simply staring vacantly at the wall across. Everything seemed so pointless now. While Noah fought his way out there, she was locked in her apartment like some sniveling, doing nothing. Emma wanted to be at his side. Wanted to rescue the poor orphan wolf together. Only if Noah hadn’t been so adamant.

  Outside, the city was sleeping. Faint yellow light leaked through the windows at the wings of the room, filling it with a peaceful quietude. Moonlight splayed across Noah face as she sat, mind buzzing with tiredness. She shut her eyes. Away from the confinements of her room, from the grimness that soaked the very air, to the tiny dregs of sleep. Her mind hanged on the very edge of it, lost far away from reality, when a crash pinched her ears.

  Emma’s eyes cracked open. Head still spinning with drowsiness, she glanced ahead. Tiny shards of glass sparkled all around the floor. Her vision began to blur, and Emma crawled away from the open window. A dark silhouette danced in front of her eyes, and she rubbed sleep away from her eyes. She kicked hard at the man standing only a few inches from her, and jeering laughter broke out at her side. There were more men. Men in her own apartment. A cold fear crawled up her skin, wrapping tightly across her neck, and Emma fumbled for any weapon around her. Her fingers curled around a broomstick but before she could lunge ahead with it, a cloth was pressed at her mouth, while someone else tied her legs. Emma kicked at the approaching hands, but they were tough and strong and none of them even bulged from their position.

  “Stop squirming, pretty lady.” A vile face closed into hers, yellow teeth curved into a grin.

  Emma jerked her head away, shuddering.

  “I can smell that bastard in the air,” another voice broke out from the edge of the room.

  “Where is he then?”

  “Must be somewhere close. We should better hurry-”

  “Take the woman into the truck then.”

  “Roger.”

  Emma’s body landed into someone’s hairy arms, her head propelled over his tough shoulder. Sweat licked the man’s shirt inside out, and Emma gagged. Bile rose in her throat and she clapped a hand over her face. There was no use struggling against the man’s rock-hard grip, and so Emma submitted noiselessly, wishing silently that Noah would come back.

  But Noah was gone. And deep down, Emma knew that there was no purpose hoping. She had to figure out some way to escape herself only. She had a faint idea that these hairy men must be the part wolves’ who were after the orphan wolf, and so she was determined to gather as much information she could before running away.

  Emma only had herself now. But it was enough.
<
br />   * * * * * * *

  Emma woke up with a throbbing pain at her temple. The air around her was not completely dark. Sunlight poured in from tiny holes carved into the four walls enclosing her. She was in a box. Emma drew back alarmingly and hit the low roof hard. A sharp pain shot up her skin, and she cursed under her breath, sulking. Why was she in a box? And when did she sleep exactly?

  The events of the night rushed through her mind. Noah leaving her behind…monstrous beasts bustling into her house. And abducting her. But why? Why in the world would any pack of notorious killers abduct a young grumpy woman with no penny or expensive valuables? What could they possibly gain from her? It was ridiculous.

  The holes in the walls of the box were one-finger thick. Emma pressed her eye to one of them and gazed through. A long road wound in front of her. However, they were moving in the opposite direction. It was likely that her box was located at the back of whatever vehicle they were traveling. A truck. Wasn’t it a truck? The man had mentioned that back in her apartment. There were tall lanky trees rising up at the sides in big numbers. Even the air smelled beautiful. Emma was sure they were not in Antigo anymore. In only a single night, they’d covered a long distance and were heading somewhere else. She only wished she knew where.

  Low voices stole through the thin walls of her box, and Emma’s ears shot up. She stilled her breathing and focused on the conversation outside.

  “- the Light Flayer’s out of Vilas, for sure. This means the Wolf Mage knows something. Sire’s not going to be happy.”

  “That does mess up a few things. But our hideout is well hidden. Lord Dalton cast the spell himself.”

  Lord Dalton?

  “- We don’t know how far Flayer’s powers stretch though-”

  “- Hardly matters. Sire needs only one week. And if the girl doesn’t whine much, perhaps even less. After that, well…”

  “Flayer’s gonna be killed by his own bastard.”

  Loud laughter arose following the jibe, and Emma grimaced. These people really did hate Noah, huh? Turns out Noah had too many enemies. No wonder he didn’t want to take her along.

  Bastard? Emma’s eyes popped out in shock. Noah had a son? But why hadn’t he ever spoken to her about it? Did he even ever visit him? Emma could hardly believe what she had heard. Noah didn’t seem like a man despicable enough to disown his own son. No matter how the son looked or whatever the problem involved. But then again, Emma had known him only for a few days. He had a big reputation, and gathering from the way these men talked about him, he seemed capable of quite lethal things.

  And what exactly did this Lord Dalton need a week for? Emma felt completely clueless. She leaned her head against the wall, when suddenly she heard the sound of a lock clicking. The roof went out from above her, and bright light assaulted her vision. Screwing her eyes, she found a man dropping some apples in her box.

  “Hey,” she called out to him.” I wanna pee.”

  Color rose in the young man’s cheeks, and he looked away. Emma glanced down at her clothes and found the neck of a nightdress falling too low. She jerked it up instantly.

  “I-I don’t know whether they’ll allow it-”

  “Hey, orange hair! What’re ye blabbering about? Shut the lid!”

  “Mr. Hunt, she-she wants to pee.”

  The other man paused. He strode over to her. Emma put her best face on and said, “I can't help it, no one told me to go before we left on this pleasant journey...”

  Hunt nodded, sighing. The truck was brought to a halt. She gripped hard at the box walls, and pushed herself out, making sure that her cleavage was visible. She caught Hunt sneering.

  “Come on,” he chuckled, “I’ll show you to the nearest spring.”

  Emma took his hand, and leaned into his massive body, much against her will. Hunt seemed as if he’d just seen the heavens. Emma praised her slutty acting silently.

  He led her to a hot water spring, and Emma felt her insides melting at the sight. It was beautiful. The spring sat hot and steaming, amidst thick green bushes and leaves. Emma rushed over to the nearest one. She stood with her back to Hunt, and ripped her panties off. Emptying her bladder, she put them back on, nice and slow, her bare ass exposed to Hunt’s devouring gaze. Once she was done, she cocked her head and caught him staring at the latter part of her body. Emma smiled coyly.

  “Can we have a dip?”

  Hunt scratched the back of his nose, the desire vivid in his gaze. He shot a glance at his watch, and snickered, “Sounds lovely.”

  Emma peeled away her grimy dress. A horrible stench tore through her nose, and she gagged. The idea of a nice warm bath in this beauteous place felt wonderful. However, she really wished she was here with Noah. Hunt’s sly smiles and gray eyes sent a chill down her body, but her slutty acts were necessary for survival. And so they had to go on.

  She let her underclothes stay on, and dived into the water. Hunt followed after. The water felt warm against her chilly skin, and she took a deep breathe. Swimming over to the other side, she crashed into Hunt’s body, and wrapped her legs around his. Hunt smirked.

  “Wherever are we going?” She batted her eyes at him, and Hunt curled his hand around her neck.

  “We’re in the Forest County. Two days till we meet Lord Dalton.”

  Emma sighed.

  “They’re going to kill me, right?”

  “No sweetheart,” Hunt touched her lips, “I won’t let anyone lay even a finger on you.”

  As if you’ll stand any chance against your Lord Dalton. Huh. Men, and their bluffs.

  They rose out of the water, dripping wet. Hunt had returned with towels. He tossed one her way, and she rubbed at her body. Finally, she was back in her clothes.

  “Can I ask you for a favor?” She strolled over to him, and held his shoulders lightly. Her dress swayed around her feet as the sharp wind blew their way.

  “Any.” He smiled.

  “Your men shoot me wrong looks, when I’m…in this” She waved her hands at her dress, laying them intentionally upon her revealing breasts. “Can I have a robe?”

  He slid his hand upon her chest, his eyes shining with passion. “Here. You can have my cloak. Also, don’t worry about them anymore. They won’t even dare look at my lady.”

  Emma slid into the thick cloak, and wrapped it around her tightly. Finally, she felt a little less vulnerable. Noah fought with his weapons. And Emma used her body as one. They both had different weapons. But they were essentially fighters. And they were never going to stop.

  Chapter 8

  The night around him was still. The cold air silent, save the hissing sound of his body as it whizzed through the grass, talons digging the earth, stormy gray eyes fixed ahead. The darkness was welcoming. The delicious smell stirring amidst it, all too familiar. And with every swift step, Noah felt it getting stronger, sensed the long-lost malice in it sting through his very bones, awakening all desires.

  A small, rickety pub loomed into view. Pale yellow light leaked through the tiny windows, the frail, humanly voices laughing within, burning with life. At the very sight of it, Noah dragged in a slow breath. He leaned his head back, letting his gaze escape to the wan moon staring curiously overhead. A peculiar energy rushed through his eyes, the silvery moonlight coursing through every limb, blessing a dark power. His body sagged under the weight of it, his rust-red lips curving into a cunning smile.

  Before heading directly to the pub, Noah halted at the thick dark hedges nearby. Sliding his backpack (which bore his normal clothes) off his hairy body, he willed back into his human form. The point-sharp claws dug back into his fingers, the hair disappearing under his skin, and eyes turning their usual brilliant blue. Noah pulled at his trousers, and threw a leather jacket around his torso. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he felt his fingers curl around the orphan wolf’s collar. Instinctively, he took it out and examined it under the pale light. A cold tremor rippled through Noah’s body, and he shivered.

  He could be
t a million dollars that it was Sophia’s choker. Her favorite one. The one she wore every day he spent with her; every day they ambled through Vilas’s busy streets; every time they walked the beautiful beaches, legs kissing the soft bed; the rough faces of the shells tickling their feet, as they watched the orange ball splashing crimson rues over the once-blue waters.

  It was such a long time ago. But even now, the memory of her face, those delicate features and humble smile sent a chill down his spine. Noah couldn’t exactly remember when they had fallen apart. The love that he had so carefully nurtured reduce to plain, dust-like ashes. All he could recall was a bright summer afternoon. Sophie’s small cozy cottage. Noah eavesdropping on her parents’ conversation with her. Her disclosure of his true identity to them. The sharp sound of a slap splitting the air. Sophie stumbling out, tears chasing down her cheeks, telling him to go away. And never come back.

  It was absurd. And Noah couldn’t get his answers to the whys and hows, for Sophie simply hid herself within the crowd. Turned a deaf ear to his incessant letters. Twisting her head every time they locked gazes at the streets, swiftly scuttling away. It had taken months, but the harsh realization finally sank in.

  And then he met Emma.

  And Noah was suddenly reminded of all the things he couldn’t have with Sophie. All the things she wasn’t, but Emma was. If Sophie was a tiny flame flickering on a candle, then Emma was a blazing fire, strong and powerful. There was no hesitation involved when he talked to Emma, no hidden feelings…no lies. Their encounters were more honest and so full of emotion that Noah felt a sharp ache in his heart at her absence.

  His eyes screwed into distance, lips pursing in grimness. He strode to the shabby pub, leaves crunching under his boots. Noah pushed past the door, and found the pub brimming with people. Vagabonds and thieves, this place was no less than a shit hole. Noah’s eyes narrowed to slits. This pub seemed like the perfect place those part wolves would have stayed for a night. Noah just needed to confirm his best guess.

  The bartender was sitting on his tool, idly mixing drinks. Noah walked over to him.