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She
couldn’t afford to entangle herself with anyone and risk exposing her secret to
the clan.
    Mali vowed to behave
herself and be a model citizen until they reached the festival. She’d have a
better chance of slipping off to escape in a crowd. Here, they’d notice her
gone and come right after her. Maybe if they were far enough away from her
parents’ homestead, they wouldn’t consider tracking her back down. Especially
since they’d be too busy—hopefully—selecting mates of their own.
    She could stay alive a
little longer.
     
     

Chapter Four
     
    The wind carried the
unmistakable scent of blood to their sensitive noses. Jaxon halted his run,
sniffing at the air as Ranger and Torolf stopped behind him. He huffed a sharp
bark. Words were not needed amongst them. Soft whines and snuffles, a jerk of
their head, communicated all they needed to know.
    The buck they’d tailed
through the woods had encountered another predator somewhere in its retreat
from the pack. They had the option to retreat back to camp empty handed, or
forge ahead to see who’d reached their kill first.Jaxon
had been looking forward to eating fresh meat, and exchanging looks with the
others he recognized they’d wanted the same.
    Brush and brambles,
turning brown from the late changing of the season, caught in their fur,
scraping the sides of their heads as they found the deer path and followed it
to the source teasing their nostrils. Great ferns standing shoulder high to a
man crowded a treeless circle in the woods. The ferns trembled in the wind,
keeping guard on secrets held close.The three
wolves nosed through the leafy path, coming upon a trampled and bloody sight.There was little left beyond fur, bone, and innards.
Blood painted the trampled ferns and grasses. Moist dark earth soaked up the
remaining fluids, leaving the scent of death heavy in the air.A clear path exiting the site was forged by something
broad of shoulder if the snapped and flattened ferns were any indication.
    Jaxon froze at the edge
of the site, glancing around and sniffing the wind. He put his nose to the ground
and snuffled along the edges until he found impressions in soft black earth
leading away from the kill. A hind print with five distinct holes marking the
claws along the top. Easily double the size of his footprint.
    Bear tracks.
    Jaxon’s gut wrenched as
fragmented memories flooded him—following dozens of tracks through the night;
fresh fallen snow blotting out their trace as he runs until his lungs feel
close to bursting; Jen’s screams in his ears, swallowed by the growing distance
    He gulped air. The scars
on his body pulled tight beneath his fur.
    Jaxon shifted back into
human form, crouching naked beside the paw print in spite of the stiffness of
his knee. He scarcely noticed Torolf and Ranger returning to human form beside
him.
    “Is that—a bear track?”
Torolf said, putting his hand beside the print.
    “Looks that way,” Jaxon
said.
    “The ursine shouldn’t
be down here. They’re supposed to stay on their land. Up in the mountains,”
Ranger said. “Why would they be down here? There’s nothing for them here.”
    “There’s plenty down
here they want. Always has been. They should be hibernating by now, but the
season is late changing this year. That always means a long winter when it
finally hits. They must have a shortage of food up in the mountains if they’re
coming down this far to forage. Unless I’m wrong and they mean to attack us
when we’re most vulnerable,” Jaxon said in a thoughtful tone.
    Torolf looked around
them. “During the festival? Why?”
    Mating season always
entailed mindless rutting once the heat hit the women and they chose their
mate—the men were helpless to resist. It was an understood agreement amongst
the clans that none were raided or attacked during this time.Wolves didn’t war
on the bears, and bears didn’t attack the wolf clan.
    Jaxon grunted, wiping dirt
off his hands onto a clean frond.