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her life
depended on it. Granted he’d brought her food, made a fire for her,
and left her with clothes and a sleeping bag. That didn’t smell of
a male who planned on killing her. It smelled of a male planning on
seducing her. Yet he hadn’t.
    Maybe some wild sex would help her mood. She
needed rejuvenating. She’d been on the run since their den burnt to
the ground. That had been almost two months ago. Since then, she
hadn’t awakened from a sleep and remained curled in warmth this
long.
    The moment she stuck her nose out of the bag
a cold chill hit her. She lowered the bag some more and risked
exposing her entire face. Then staring at the wood piled at her
cave entrance, she willed a large branch to break in two and enter
the cave. The wood split and tumbled to the rocky floor. Instead of
making the sound she expected, Magda heard a loud clanging
sound.
    “What the hell?” She sat up, her heart
instantly in her throat.
    What kind of fool was she to believe lying in
bed leisurely was an option?
    The cold didn’t matter anymore. She unzipped
the bag. Her boots were next to her. She groaned approval when they
still held the warmth from last night’s fire. After slipping them
on she sniffed the air and approached the entrance to the cave,
stepping over the long branch, now broken in two next to hot ashes
from the fire. There was something shiny on the other side of the
remaining logs and rocks. When she’d snapped the closest branch
with her gift it had caused the branches on the outer edge of her
pile by the entrance to fall on whatever was out there.
    Magda worked her way around the pile of wood
and stone, holding on to the waist of the oversized sweats she
still wore, and gasped. A large wash pan, shiny and silver, had
been left on the other side of her camouflaged door to her cave.
She took a step toward it, straining to peer inside the wash pan
but not get too close. It had no scent. That didn’t mean something
might not be inside. It was empty.
    No sooner had she determined that fact then
her nose did pick up on something. Her stomach growled so loud she
swore it echoed off the neighboring mountain. Magda shot her
attention to the edge of the cliff outside her cave.
    An elk—a beautiful, full grown, well fed
elk—lay dead on its side. Its neck had been ripped out. The smell
of its blood, of exposed raw meat under its torn fur, did a number
on her. Magda’s teeth grew before she gave any thought to making
the change. Her stomach roared, reminding her how long it had been
since she’d truly enjoyed fresh kill. The need to refurbish her
body outweighed any coherent thoughts.
    Magda leapt at the dead elk, embracing the
change mid-air. The oversized sweatshirt hung on her when her body
covered in fur. The pants slipped right off her.
    Clothes were something she’d worry about
later. The fire in her veins, as the change rushed through her,
lasted less time than usual. Magda transformed with such fury it
made her dizzy.
    By the time she landed, Magda was on all
fours. She swayed, and her world blurred.
    The rich, beautiful, intoxicating aroma of
fresh kill kept her firmly planted on her four paws. It also
cleared her vision. She needed to make sure that what she saw in
her flesh was still there now that she was in her fur. Magda wagged
her tail and let out a yelp that she was glad no one heard. It was
the sound of an excited pup, and a sound she hadn’t made since she
had been one herself and her sire had laid the litter’s kill before
his three cubs. He had then sat back on his haunches and watched,
smelling of pride and satisfaction while Magda and her littermates
snarled and fought for the best meat. She let go of her memories
and enjoyed the elk meat.
    It wasn’t until she was done eating, feeling
sated and lazy that she noticed the soup pot on the other side of
the wash pan. She sniffed at it. The pot was covered with Ayden’s
scent. He’d done this—all of this. He had killed the elk. And