LickingHerWounds Read Online Free Page A

enemy, she had entered the den to find that
another of their pack males had been mortally injured by the huge black feline
as they had tried to pick off a hitchhiker just outside the town limits of
Rutledge earlier that day. The pack was down to ten…and only five of them were
hunting males.
    She had taken the inexcusable liberty of speaking up when no
one spoke to her first, asking why the pack didn’t try hunting the mule deer
herd that ranged close to their den.
    Big mistake.
    Jock, who had taken over leadership of the pack after the
black Seronta shifter had killed his predecessor eight years earlier, had
turned on her in a foul rage and had very nearly succeeded in tearing her
throat out before she had managed to struggle free and roll down the hillside
from the den and into the swift-moving creek that was just deep enough to be
over her head. Likely thinking her to be mortally injured after the mauling he
had given her, he had left her to drown.
    She had somehow managed to get her nose above the churning
water and had struggled up the opposing bank to lie hidden in the briars until
she regained enough strength to move. And under cover of the night she had
crawled and staggered away from the den and the only family she had ever known,
instinctively heading toward the only creature she thought might protect her
from the death that was sure to come when Jock realized she had not drowned.
    If he doesn’t kill me himself…
    It had taken her all of the rest of that night and half of
the following day to reach the copse of trees where she had lain hidden so many
times and, weakened by blood loss and hunger, she had slumped into the cool
grass to await her fate. She was far too hungry to heal quickly. If the pack
found her she would be toast…
     
    The sound of the cubs laughing and running brought her awake
and she rolled up, staggering to her unsteady legs. They were alone. And when
they saw her, they skidded to a stop and stared at her. Never in her life had
she asked for succor from a living being, but something gave her the courage to
beg them for help. They seemed to understand her mind speak and didn’t flee.
She was certainly no danger to anyone in her weakened state. But then she heard
another voice calling, deep and rough, asking the cubs what was wrong, and she
couldn’t stop herself from begging the golden one for his protection.
    Sheer, mind-numbing terror filled her when the creature
burst from the trees and landed between her and the cubs, and she sensed
instinctively that her next move would decide her fate. Sinking to the soft
earth, she prostrated herself before him, begging mutely for his mercy. Her
fevered mind fought to remain alert but when that deadly paw pressed her chest
hard enough to prevent her from getting breath, she gave him her last plea, and
found she was nearly too weak to make the shift. She had little strength left
and it took much concentration. Perhaps the sight of her human form would allow
him to see her as other than a marauding, cub-stealing predator.
    * * * * *
    It was dark. Her body ached. Shit! She was still in
her human form. She was utterly defenseless. She was too weak and tired even to
attempt to shift back. As full consciousness returned, she realized that her
aching human body was covered with something soft and warm and her throbbing
head was draped with something cool and wet. She sensed someone nearby but was
too weak to be afraid. She groaned as she tried to move and a soft voice
murmured as a cool human hand touched her swollen cheek. So soft… It stirred a
memory that was buried so deep it couldn’t be reached.
    “Can you understand me?” It felt odd to have someone address
her. No one in the pack bothered to speak to her, especially in that soft,
gentle way.
    She nodded almost imperceptibly, wincing with pain at the
slight movement of her head.
    “What is your name?”
    Even her slight frown hurt as she rasped, “I…don’t have
one.”
    “They must call