No Such Thing

La_Reina

Sexy Feisty Sub
Joined
Aug 19, 2008
Posts
2,663
(closed for AntonTovaras)

"Zoe you're a month behind deadline. I can't keep postponing this book. Either you have it or you don't." Zoe stared up at her agent as she ranted on how her book being late would derail this book signing and possibly a movie deal. Zoe sighed. She was tired and had the worst case of writer's block. Too much real life was cutting into her writing time.

"Look, go back out to the C-I-W (Cabin in Woods) and finish the book. It worked before right," her agent prompted. Zoe couldn't deny it and before she could say anything her agent was already making the plans. Zoe wouldn't have to do anything, but pack a bag and drive over 2 hours away to one of the most remote and slightly boring places she had ever been. It was like time out for adults.

3 days later and Zoe was staring up at the Cabin. If by Cabin you mean a big house with running everything, two back up generators, two big freezers probably already stocked for her, and a hot tub in the back. The only reason Zoe could still call it a cabin was the frame of the house was made out of wood. Zoe had to admit the solitude did help her write.

Zoe unpacked and looked around the cabin checking everything. As usual her agent put her on a healthy diet, the woman was a health freak, and there was not one source of fattening in the whole place. It didn't matter Zoe was 130lbs perfect for her 5'5 frame. Hell, there wasn't even any butter. Zoe would have to go shopping probably tomorrow. Grabbing some carrots Zoe set up her laptop and began typing.

Zoe found a stopping part and looked at the clock. 3:24 am. Zoe sighed. She missed dinner. Stretching she got in bed and went to sleep. When she woke up it was the same routine: Grab a snack, write until her body screamed sustenance, eat, then write some more until she was ready to pass out. Zoe also found the problem to her book. It didn't flow right and she pretty much ended up rewriting everything and changing this and that. It was going a bit better considering she basically was writing a whole new book.

Zoe sent a rough draft to her agent after 3 weeks. At first the woman was aghast that the whole book had to be rewritten which meant another 2 or 3 months before Zoe was ready for editing, but after reading the changes her agent was excited. This was good and she had some plans on promoting something or another. Zoe hung up her cell phone feeling for the first time really good. She turned back to the laptop eager to start on the fight scene.

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The mountains were his only chance. Under him, the engine roared, and the bike shot forward. His family was dead, the Atlanta houses were blood-soaked ruins. He should have been dead, too, but he had been between houses when they got hit. Kyle had sent him out to warn the northside crew, and he'd found the place surrounded by police and ambulances, a thousand lights flashing. He'd given a little howl, but nobody answered but the dogs. There had been rumors of a pack up from Florida looking to expand their territory, but the alphas had all figured they'd hit Savannah, and fuck around in the swamps down south. Nobody expected a full on military-style strike in Atlanta.

He called Kyle's phone, realizing what had happened. When the call went through, he started to report. Then he heard automatic weapons firing tight little bursts from the other end, and a voice that definitely wasn't Kyle's shouted. “One of them's on the phone, near the northside! Go!”

Anthony tossed his phone and ran. For the first mile or so, he was just riding, adrenaline pounding, shock numbing him, but soon they were on him. Just two men on one bike at first, one driving, the other waiting to get close enough to get a good shot. Another pair joined them within a half mile, and then another appeared ahead of him, spraying gunfire at him from a submachine gun. He felt a shot graze his thigh, and then another hit his shoulder and almost knocked him off the bike. Anthony started zigzagging through residential side streets.

The Floridians were on fast racing bikes, built to outrun anything. Anthony rode an enduro racer, barely street legal, not nearly as fast as their street racers, but quick. A top speed of 150mph was everything on the freeways, but in the streets, turning mattered more, and if he could reach the Appalachians, his rugged tires and suspension would give him all the advantage he needed. He just had to live long enough to get there.

Two hours later, he was in the Chattahoochee Forest, pounding down the fire roads. He stopped. Engines behind him. Trucks. They had trucks. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He was dizzy, bleeding, the adrenaline that had kept him going through that long, desperate chase drained, leaving him weak, exhausted. He pointed the bike off the road and revved it up, letting it shoot off, crashing through the trees and down a ravine. It would give him time, he hoped, while they looked for the bike, thinking he was still on it.

He staggered into the woods, gazing up at the sky, searching for the moon. Then he was running along, still limping, but on four feet he could move much faster. They would be faster still, but the Atlanta pack claimed southern Appalachians all the way up to Virginia, and he knew these mountains.

Another hour gone, and the bullet in his shoulder was too much to bear. He was hobbling on three legs, whimpering with each step. There was a house nearby, and he made for it. When he reached it, though, there were lights on. He'd never heard of anyone living here, but there was no choice. The next house was well over a mile away. If he kept running, they would catch him eventually, and he would die. He needed the bullet out, bandages, maybe even a little food.

He shifted again as he climbed the steps to the front door. His claw scratched at the door and then his fist pounded. His clothes were back by the road, shredded when he transformed.
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Zoe stretched her arms and twisted her back feeling the tired muscles ache and crack. She slowly got to her feet and picked up the empty mug of coffee she had been drinking. It was late, but she still felt the high and the adrenaline of her story. She was slightly lost in the characters as she made her way down the stairs and to the kitchen. She was just refilling her cup and was thinking about a snack. She still hadn't made it to the store and she was getting pretty tired of munching on carrots and celery.

Zoe sighed staring again at the fridge as if something was gonna appear that she hadn't seen that was edible when the door knocked. Zoe jumped up in surprise and turned toward her front door. She glanced at the microwave clock and then back at the door. She was too far away for any ''neighbors'' to come popping up. Zoe glanced out the side door and the first thing she saw was blood and the man holding himself as if injured.

"Oh dear Go-." Zoe rushed to the door and opened it. The thing Zoe hadn't noticed was he was naked. ... and bleeding,but still naked. "Oh!" Zoe was so surprised. The man was rippled and sinewy and ... shit bleeding. "What happened? Let me get you some help!"

Zoe ushered the man in and into the kitchen. She ran to the side where the washer and dryer was and got a big fluffy towel. On her way back to him she snagged her cell phone. "What happened to you? Why are you naked?" Zoe gave him the towel so that she could concentrate on making him better. "I'm trying to call the Police now. Sometimes the reception is shady in he... there got a signal. We're gonna get you some help. It'll be okay."
 
He was still as much a wolf as a man in that moment that the door opened, and it was her scent that struck him more than her appearance. Her blood was up. He caught a hint of caffeine, but not enough to explain the way her heart was pounding. Her adrenaline was kicking, but there as no cause. There was no threat, no one to arouse her, no reason. The wolf snarled a warning, but it came through the man's lips, and the human side of him wondered what had her so excited, sitting in an empty house by herself.

There was no question that she was pretty, beautiful, even, but his eyes only took the facts in abstractly. He was in pain, hunted, he didn't have time to think about a girl. She let him in, and he slammed the door shut behind him, breathing hard and fast as she babbled questions at him. He stumbled into the kitchen, trying to shut her out. He needed tools, supplies, weapons, not her panicky attempts to help.

She brought him a towel, and he snatched it from her, pressing it against the wound in his shoulder, awkwardly. Then she was on the phone, calling the police. He grabbed the phone out of her hand and stopped the call. He glared at her, anger flaring up, almost enough to make him turn. But some small part of him held back. He wasn't angry at her. She wasn't a threat. He was hurting, exhausted, hunted, so raw that even a simple mistake was nearly enough to set him off.

“No police,” he growled. “No ambulance. No phone calls.” His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, he saw himself through her eyes: naked and bleeding, shaking and abrupt. She had no reason to help him, no reason to trust him. A girl like her, alone in this part of the country, really had no business opening the door at night, unless she had a shotgun in her hands.

“Please,” he said. “There are people after me who will be listening to the emergency channels.” He didn't know that for a fact, but the people chasing him were well-organized. They had military grade weapons and somehow they had gotten trucks in the middle of the night during a pursuit. It was quite likely they could listen into the police band, and possible that they could grab her cell signal. “I need alcohol, a needle and thread, and a sharp knife. And a mirror.” He could get the bullet out of his shoulder, but he wouldn't be able to see to stitch it up without her holding the mirror.
 
Zoe was staring at the small little bar of her cell phone urging it to connect when he grabbed the cell from her hands and hit the End button. "What the ..." she started to say, but his rough voice caught her off guard. It was a deep rumble with a good baritone and enough bass to get her adrenaline pumping for a different reason. She took a step back suddenly realizing what she had done. She had seen him and her first thought was to help. But he wanted no police? Dear God, did she just let in a criminal?

Zoe took another step back and her eyes searched the kitchen for a quick weapon before she focused on him again. She didn't have any other line of communication out here aside from her phone and she was eyeing it wearily. Her new mantra was: please don't smash my phone, please don't smash my phone.

"People? What people?" She did let in a criminal. Who else would be listening to the police band. Zoe glanced around the kitchen and she had to really focus on him as he told her the things he needed. His voice left no room for arguments and she found herself getting the things before she realized. She shook her head. As long as he doesn't bleed or die out on her she'll help him and hope he leaves soon.

She set the items down next to him. She bit her lower lip in agitation. If he fixes himself and leaves does that make her an accomplice? What if he was just fixing himself so he could kill her later? Zoe got up and went into the living room quickly searching and finding it. She came back in and placed the 20 year old hand gun on the counter. That was her warning to him. She just hoped she didn't have to usei it... she had no idea how it worked except for what she saw on tv.

"Okay, sexy naked guy. What the hell is going on?"
 
She wanted to know what people, but how could he explain that they were a pack of werewolves? That he was the last member of a different pack? She already thought he was dangerous. She would think he was insane if he told her the truth, and he had never learned the knack of lying. He had always been surrounded by the pack, and wolves could smell deception.

“Please,” he whispered. “You wouldn't believe me, and it's better that you don't know.”

He splashed alcohol on the wound on his thigh, and winced as it burned. Then he poured more over his shoulder. He closed his eyes for a moment, shutting out the pain, and then opened them. He rinsed the knife carefully in alcohol, and then looked for her to hold the mirror.

Instead, she came in with a pistol. He looked up at her, surprised for a moment, and picked it up, popping open the cylinder and spinning it. It was old, needed oiling and cleaning, but it would be serviceable.

“Thank you, but I can't fight them with that. I need to find a ….” He stopped, realizing that she hadn't been offering him the gun. He looked up at her and shook his head. He held the gun by the barrel and handed it to her. “Keep it pointed at me. Never put your weapon down in the presence of a threat.”

"Okay, sexy naked guy. What the hell is going on?"

He chuckled, blushing a little. The wolfish sensibility was growing more distant as he stayed in his human shape, and his nakedness was suddenly awkward. He took a deep breath and tried to think.

“I came from Atlanta,” he said, looking into her dark and beautiful eyes. He shook off the distraction. It was not the time. She was not one of his kind. “My … my family was killed tonight. The people who did it are after me. If they catch me, they'll kill me too, and I can't keep running with a bullet in my shoulder. Please. If you hold the mirror, I can cut it out, and then I'll be gone. You'll be safe. If they come and ask about me, just don't lie. They'll know, but they won't hurt you if you tell the truth.” He picked up the knife and turned his bleeding shoulder towards her. “Hold the mirror.”
 
Zoe knew it. She didn't understand the 'you wouldn't believe me' part so she ignored it and focused on the 'better you didn't know part,' which proved she had made a mistake. She grimaced as he poured alcohol straight onto his wounds. Dear Goddess that had to hurt. She swallowed several times trying to understand the strength that must have come with being able to do that simple thing to yourself. She hadn't thought she had placed the weapon within his reach, but was proven wrong when he grabbed it and began inspecting it. She stiffened and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She must have been the worst kind of stupid. She just gave a criminal a gun!!!

Then he did something unexpected. He held the gun to her with the barrel facing himself. She gingerly took it back. He even gave her directions and she wasn't sure if he was insane or ... well a guy who was in bad shape and needed help. Hell, she seen movies even written stories about the guy who was actually good, but had bad things happening to them and was never given a fair chance. Zoe's eyes took on a faraway look as she thought about how she could add this part to her book. It would go great.

She was snapped back to reality when he started speaking about himself. She nodded her head trying to process everything. Sounded like some sort of gang or drug thing. Maybe he wasn't a good guy after all. Well, a good guy in a bad way. She held up the mirror than blanched. "Wait... if they come asking about you? You lead them here?!" Zoe was suddenly aware of how alone she was with no neighbors and spotty cell service. He already told her they killed his family. Why wouldn't they just kill her too.

"H-how do you know they won't hurt me?" Zoe's heart started hammering and she could feel the tears stinging her eyes. This was much too real. She wanted her stories back. "Lead them away. Don't ... let them come here. Okay. I'll help you and ... you'll go to them or divert them or something. Okay?" The mirror started shaking as she became more and more panicked.
 
How did he know they wouldn't hurt her? How could he explain to her that they weren't human without telling her that he wasn't entirely human? They didn't kill for pleasure. They were his enemies, but they were his kind as well. They were honorable beasts. They killed when it was necessary to feed or when they went to war, but the last time a pack had declared war on mankind had been almost a century ago on the other side of the world, and they had been driven mad from starvation and war. The pack from Florida were just expanding their territory, but how to explain that to her?

“They have lost my scent,” he said. “But they will find it again. They will be able to follow it here, but they won't benefit from hurting you. It would be dishonorable.” A glance told her that she wasn't convinced. He didn't have time to explain the ways of wolfish honor to her. He sighed, and bared his teeth instead. “Hold still.”

Carefully, he opened the hole in his shoulder with the knife, and, fresh blood filling the wound, so that he had to set the knife down and pour more alcohol into it. The burn made him tremble, but he clenched his teeth until he could cut again. He found the bullet, pressed against the bone, and he let out a whimper of pain as it shifted. He dropped the knife and dug with his fingers, catching it at last and pulling it out. Blood poured down his body, a fast flow to keep the wound clean, but not a dangerous amount.

“There,” he said, and dropped the bullet on the counter. He turned to face the girl, saw the way she was trembling. He carefully pushed the barrel of the gun away from him. He took the mirror from her hand and set it down, then he lifted her chin, looking into her eyes.

“I am Anthony Wyrolf,” he said. “Of the Georgia Pack. I swear by my name and my family that I will not let harm come to you because of the help you have given me.” He dropped his hand and his fingers left a streak of his blood on her chin. “You look like a fighter,” he smiled at her. “I have to go.”

It was another few seconds before he turned and walked back to the front door. He listened a moment, and then opened it and rushed out. The rough ground was hard on his human feet, but he sprinted into the darkness of the trees before he changed, and when he had run another half mile or so, he howled. The sound would carry for miles, and his enemies would hear and come for him here. They would not need to bother with the girl. He would give them a scent to follow, away from her. He ran for his life.
 
Zoe stared at him. Something he was saying was tugging at her, but she was much to panicked to pick up on what her mind was screaming at her. "Lost your scent ... " she blinked trying to form coherent thought. "You don't smell to me...?" She frowned knowing that what she said was wrong, but right. He didn't smell to her, but she had the notion that she was getting the wrong thought process. Why did this seem vaguely familiar to her. She didn't have time to focus on that before he was telling her they would find him again and come here, but not kill her because of some sort of honor code. Zoe gave a weak laugh. They killed his family and now she was to believe they wouldn't kill her, because they were honorable men. What the hell?

Zoe nodded her head when he told her to hold still, but the mirror still shook some. It shook more when he began digging in his shoulder. She closed her eyes to mask the horror she was seeing. This was worse than the medical shows ever showed. She could hear his fingers digging in his body, hear the blood flow, hear ... she was going to be sick.

She opened her eyes with a sigh of relief when he finally said he was done. He was still bleeding and now there was blood on her hardwood floor, the chair, on the counter where he placed the bullet. Oh Goddess, she would have to clean his blood. She stared everywhere, but at the man approaching her and she blinked stupidly as he took her mirror away. Her eyes widened. He said he wouldn't hurt her ... he said he wouldn't hurt her. She tried to take a step back, but there was no where to go. His hand came upon her chin and all she could do was stare at him mutely.

He was gone. She would have thought he was a character in her story if it wasn't for the blood that was everywhere. "Anthony Wyrolf..." she let the words hang in the air as she numbly went to her front door and locked it.

She had just finished scrubbing everything and from her eyes could see no blood anywhere. She was emptying the bucket into the sink and was looking out her kitchen window. She thought she saw eyes, not one set, but two no three. She felt her heart thumping so hard and heard the blood rushing in her ears. Her kitchen window was cracked a bit for fresh air and she heard the sound of a howl. She swore she saw the eyes lift up into the sky and then they were gone. "Dammit, Zoe. They were just wolves. You know wild animals live around here. What's gotten into you?"

Zoe angrily finished cleaning up. She closed the window and locked every window and door that led outside. She carried the gun with her everywhere just in case that maniac lied and those other maniacs came to her home, because of him. She locked her bedroom door and climbed into the bed. She left the light on and drifted into a fitful sleep.

The next morning Zoe was nerves and could barely write. It was 3 days later when she began to relax and realized it was probably some stupid story a guy who went skinny bathing said. He probably shot himself in the shoulder and came up with that story to scare her and seem cool. Hey, people did dumb stuff. Her favorite show used to be World's Dumbest so she knew all about that kind of stupidity. Hell, she felt stupid herself for believing in it. Still, it did teach her a good lesson. She needed a weapon and that meant going out into to town and today was the day she was going to drive the 4 or 5 miles and get some real food and some protection.
 
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As a wolf, he'd covered ground quickly, leading the pack from Florida away from her, but he needed a way to get them off of his scent for good. The river had been what finally saved him. He floated down until he reached a town, somewhere, and in the night he'd found clothes hung out to dry and a vehicle he could hotwire. He drove back the way he had come in the old pickup, passing a group of bikers on street racers going the other way, much too fast on the windy mountain roads. He wasn't sure it was them, but if it had been, they hadn't known it was him.

He left the truck in a parking lot near the river, and headed back into the woods. He had found jeans and a flannel shirt, both belonging to a much wider man than him. He had no shoes, but once he was deep enough in the forest, he stripped out of the clothes and made a bundle that he could carry in his teeth. He found what was left of his bike, smashed and burned where he'd sent it off the road, and he got the scent of the other pack, man and beast, where they'd searched for him. He found the clothes he'd been wearing that night when he'd turned, mostly rags by now, but his boots were there, and his belt. And his wallet.

He turned back to a human then, with a belt to hold the big jeans on and his boots, he felt better walking on two legs, resting his shoulder. He passed a few backpackers who stared at him, and he knew he must be a mess. He followed the trail back to a parking area and stole another car, found a motel, slept. He woke at dusk, ate, went back to the motel and after pacing the room for a couple of hours, he realized he was waiting for orders.

He had always been a part of the pack. He'd always followed his instinct, or the orders of the older, wiser weres. Even when he hadn't liked the orders, they'd defined his actions. Disobeying was as much a reaction as obeying, but he had noone to react to. They were all dead now. He was alone. He spent the night with the television on, staring without seeing, trying not to think about it. He slept again, waking just before dawn and moving out, abandoning the car and heading into the town.

He was in the supermarket, remembering how easy it had been when someone else thought about food when he got the scent. He nearly dropped the basket he was carrying and ran for the door before he realized it wasn't one of them. It was her. He crept around the end of the aisle and saw her, looking at the meat case. He had been hurting and frightened and he had still noticed how pretty she was, and now that he had time to actually look, he saw she was beautiful. She had a healthy body, soft in the way of someone who doesn't do physical work, but tight from working out. He remembered her eyes when she'd looked at him, and he wished he'd had time.

Sexy, she'd called him. He smiled. Then he saw another man watching her, no, two. He would fight them for her if he had to, but the way they were looking at her, it wasn't just desire they were feeling. He looked at the sneers on their faces, the angry scowls. What had she done to offend them? Or maybe they just didn't like dark skin. He kept an eye on them as he finished his shopping, got in line ahead of them. He waited outside and watched them following her out.

He ate the whole melon he'd bought, and then he turned and ate the steak raw. It would take him an hour on four feet to reach the cabin. He was there ahead of her, trusting that those men wouldn't do anything in town. He curled up in the shade a little ways into the woods and slept until the sound of an engine woke him. He watched from the darkness under the trees as she carried her things inside.
 
Zoe got out of the truck and the first thing she noticed was that everyone was looking at her. She felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe it was her fire-engine red hair. Hell, she been here before, but she couldn't remember if she had actually gone into town the other time she used the cabin in the woods. She brushed her hair behind her ear nervously and tried not to feel intimidated as she walked into the grocery store. She got a cart and pushed it up and down the aisles picking up all sorts of junk food and meat. There were all kinds of lean meat at the cabin, but she wanted fatty beef. Her cart was quite full and she pushed it into the line and waited to pay. Zoe felt like someone was standing too close to her and she turned staring up a man who looked like he could use a bath. And yes, he was standing a little too close, but his smile that seemed more menacing then friendly had her turning around.

When it was her turn at the register Zoe walked around the cart and took things out while keeping the cart between her and him. "Would you like to donate a dollar to the Make-A-Wish foundation?" Zoe nodded hoping for good karma and the dollar was added to her total. Zoe swiped her debit card to pay for her things and was pushing her cart towards the door when another man stepped into her path.

"You the daughter of the Jenkins fellow who owns the plant up the road?"

Zoe shook her head. "No... no. My name's Zoe. Zoe DiMarco."

"You don't sound like your're from around here. Does she Bobby?" The guy who was behind Zoe in line sucked his teeth and stared at her. "Nope, she sure don't Jesse, but she does look like Mr. Jenkins who fired us for no good stinking reason. I bet you're lying saying you ain't his daughter."

"I .. I'm not. I gotta go." Zoe moved past them just as a woman was telling Jesse and Bobby to leave her alone. She hurried to her truck and practically threw the groceries inside. Then she got in and drove down the street looking at them as they watched her speed off.

Zoe stopped next at the gun store. Seeing those men reminded her that she needed something to protect herself. She explained to the man at the counter she was by herself and was afraid of animals attacking her. He sold her a shotgun, but couldn't give her any bullets til the permit cleared. It was some sort of law. Well, at least she had a gun to wave about and scare anyone if they came near her. Plus it had the cool pump action sound and that should scare anyone off.

Zoe got back into her truck and felt much better. She arrived home and was able to carry everything inside in her arms. Second trips were for quitters. She dropped everything on the table and began unpacking delighting in the fatty food. She opened a bag of chips as she worked and decided she was going to have ribs for dinner. Most would put them on the grill, but nope she was going to slow cook them in the oven and every 20 minutes slather a rich coating of bar-b-que sauce on them.

It was well into the night and the aroma of the ribs was enough to make her mouth water. She had gotten a little bit of work done, but now all she could think about was those ribs.
 
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Anthony watched her bring her things inside, and the human part of him smiled to see that she had brought a shotgun as well as the groceries. He hadn't seen any shells, but they could have been in one of the bags, and his wolf's eyes often missed such details. She went in carrying so much she was barely able to get the door open, but somehow, she managed, and he stared at the door for a long time before he curled up and drifted back to sleep.

Hours passed, and he woke to the cruelest kind of torture imaginable. Inside the house, he could hear the oven door creak open, and a moment later, another explosion of scent reached him. Rich, fatty pork, simmering in tangy sauce. He heard a high pitched noise and realized he was whining like a dog. He growled softly, and retreated further into the woods. Raw squirrel was enough to fill his belly, and the hot blood satisfied the hunter's need for a fresh kill, but the whole forest seemed to smell of barbeque.

At dusk, he even shifted back to human again. He was halfway through dressing, thinking he would knock on her door again, and invite himself in for dinner, when he remembered their last meeting. He'd been bleeding and naked. She'd pulled a gun on him, and called him sexy. For all he knew, she'd bought the shotgun in case he came back. He stared at the door and sighed. At least in human shape, the scent of barbeque wasn't as strong. He couldn't smell her at all anymore, though he knew she was there, a few dozen yards away, in her cabin. He shivered as the night got cool, and stripped the clothes off, stashing them in a tree before he shifted back to wolf and tried to sleep.

It was late when he heard the truck, and he was on all fours in an instant. The air was still full of the scent of meat, but not as strong as it had been a while ago. She must have eaten and put the rest away. The sound of the engine was coming up the long driveway, and soon he could see the headlights cutting through the trees. Was she expecting guests? Maybe it was for the best that he hadn't knocked on the door. But if they were guests, why were they stopping a hundred yards down the road? Why were they walking the rest of the way, and why crouched low?

“That's the truck,” one of them whispered. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. He crept closer. They had flashlights, shining on the girl's truck, and they moved towards it, not quietly, but as quietly as they could. He got their scent. Beer, mostly, and snuff. The two men he had seen at the grocery store.

They reached the truck, and he heard them chuckling. Then he saw the knife.

He was out of the woods in two bounds, snarling. The beam of the flashlight swung towards him as he rushed them.

“What the fuck?” the big one yelled. He stumbled and fell back on his ass, and the little one sprinted away down the road. Anthony snarled again, looming over the fallen one as he tried to crabwalk back. When he heard her footsteps coming towards the door, he sprang back, into the darkness.

“Fuck you, Jesse!” the big man yelled, scrambling to his feet. “You better wait!” He tore off after his friend. The knife and the flashlight lay where he'd dropped them, by the rear tire of her truck. Anthony dashed back into the cover of the trees.
 
Zoe ate half of the ribs and felt well sated and stuffed. She licked her fingers loving the barbecue taste and sighed. "That was so good," she said outloud to herself. Now she had to clean up. Zoe growled then laughed at how stupid she was being as she began wrapping the ribs in tin foil and washing the dishes. She thought she should write more, but decided that she should curl up in front of the fireplace instead. She really was feeling lazy now. Zoe had just sat down when she gave another huge sigh. Being all philosophical and staring into the fire was great ... but she needed hot chocolate or a glass of wine to make it complete.

Zoe went back to a small area full of bottles of wine when she swore she heard a voice outside. She stood up and glanced at her shotgun. What if he was back? What if those men were here to question where he was? Who was he? Anthony, but that was all she knew. Zoe couldn't stand the anticipation and she started to walk to the door. She picked up the shotgun on her way and opened the door.

She flinched hearing some man scream to Jesse to fuck off and to wait in the same breath. Then it hit her: Jesse and Bobby. From the store. The two men who set her alarms off like crazy. She cocked the shotgun at the men she couldn't see, but was assuming they were hiding in the trees. As loudly as she could scream, "YOU BETTER LEAVE OR I'LL SHOOT YOU BOTH."

Zoe would have been better off not saying anything. As soon as Bobby heard her voice he slowed and his eyes traveled over her. Zoe couldn't see him, but he could see her. She had gotten more comfortable as she had cooked so she wore a pair of shorts that showed off her long legs and a t-shirt under a sweater that didn't hide her curves. She cocked her gun again which let Bobby know she had no bullets. If she did the shells would have flew from the chamber and landed on the porch with a thud. ... Which Zoe didn't know. Movies never showed that part.

Bobby decided that he would kick her aggressive dog if it comes back and whistled loud and clear. "Your sure are pretty."

Zoe had just turned to walk back inside her house thinking she had scared them off good when the whistle jolted her. She turned and cocked her gun again. "I mean it. I'll shoot you."

"Not with that you won't. You have no bullets and I'll kill your dog if it comes at me again." Bobby heard footsteps behind him and he turned seeing Jesse returned. He heard the whistle and assumed it was safe to come back. "You yellow belly dog. You left me."

"Aww you know I'm afraid of dogs. Ever since the accident."

Bobby just grunted. "She has no shells. She cocked her gun and nothing came out." Zoe blinked hearing their words on the wind. What dog? She cocked her gun again trying to figure out why something would come out. "See. Nothing."

Jesse smiled. "You're right boss. Let's go collect our revenge."

Zoe realized the gun wasn't doing it's job. "Don't you come in here. I'll ... I'll ... my boyfriend will kick yall's ass."

The two men stopped and studied the house. "Yeah. If ya had a man why hadn't he shown up yet. You lying. That's twice you lied to us. The third time it's gonna hurt."

Zoe backed up. "I'm serious. He's here and I'll get him. I ... I also called the police. They'll be here any minute."

"I don't believe you."

Zoe screamed, turned to run and tripped over her own boots that she had put next to the front door. She would not have enough time to make it back into the house and to her cell phone to maybe get a signal.
 
Anthony heard her voice and gave a wolfish grin. Maybe she was stronger than he thought. Maybe she didn't need his help. He turned, safe in the shadowy forest, but instead of hearing the men's engine rumbling to life and drive away, he heard them talking. She was standing in the doorway with a shotgun, and the two men were walking towards her. Were they out of their minds?

Then he heard the big one talking, and he froze. She was threatening them with an unloaded gun? And she'd cocked it? He stared, and as if she wanted to confirm what had happened, she cocked the gun again. The two men advanced. Why wouldn't they? Between them, they outweighed her by at least 3 to 1, and while she looked like she was in good shape, she obviously wasn't much of a fighter. He heard her threaten them with her boyfriend, and for a moment, he paused. What boyfriend?

But there was no boyfriend. No other scent that he hadn't accounted for. She was bluffing, and bluffing badly. He crept closer. So far, she hadn't seen him. It was better that way, but he couldn't let anything happen to her. He owed her. Even if her caring for him had been out of fear, she had done it. Though every rational part of him told him it wasn't his fight, he knew he couldn't let these two hurt her.

When she tripped, everything happened at once. She screamed, and the two men were already charging towards her. He sprang, covering the distance in a heartbeat. He caught the smaller one - Jesse - by the ankle, and felt blood filling his mouth. He snapped his head side to side, breaking bone and ripping tendons, crippling the man for life before he had time to scream.

The other one - Bobby - was nearly on top of her, pausing for a moment, the way humans do, savoring what he thought was his triumph. Anthony leapt, using the force of his weight to knock the man past the girl, into her house, and as they rolled, he snarled and snapped, teeth tearing flesh, the bloodlust rising in him. He looked at Zoe, snarled, knowing in a moment, she'd be meat if he didn't control himself.

He punched Bobby in the side again and again, feeling ribs crack. He was human again. For the second time, he was naked in her hall, but this was almost worse than the last time. He stared at her, and then Bobby punched him in the side of the head. He rolled away, cursing himself for letting her distract him.

"Lock the door behind us," he snarled at her, and then he grabbed Bobby, trying to wrestle him out the door, but despite his injuries, the big man was far from done. Maybe he knew he was fighting for his life, because Anthony knew none of these people should live. They'd seen him change.
 
Zoe cringed. She was just like the stupid secondary character in a book. She fell and now would be raped and killed. She couldn't even move the fear was too much and she tasted bile in her mouth. She just was able to push herself to her knees when she heard a scream. She whipped her head and saw ... not a dog, but a wolf; a big wolf grabbing Jesse by the ankle. With a sickening crunch his ankle separated from his body. Zoe could only stare as Jesse tried to kick the wolf away and hold onto his leg at the same time.

Her vision was blocked by Bobby who didn't seem to care that Jesse was fighting with a wild animal for his life. She wasn't even sure if he could hear the screams of his friend as his sick smile and his eyes roved over her. She fell back onto her bum and tried to crabwalk away from him. Then Bobby was suddenly lurched forward over her body and into her doorway. She heard his arm slam hard into her doorframe. She watched the wolf and the man land into her doorway and then the wolf was looking at her with a look of death in its eyes. She was the next one to die. Once more Zoe had fallen onto her bum and was trying to breath as she knew the animal was going to leap and she was going to feel it's teeth sink into her neck and kill her.

Then, she must have went bat-shit crazy. The animal was a man. Not just any man, but the man from before. And naked again. Zoe was so shocked her mouth was open in a silent O and she was staring as the men fought. She could hear Bobby screaming about werewolves and killing the fucker to make a fortune. Bobby was fighting like a man who was about to lose his life. It was an intense fight.

Zoe was jolted from her reverie hearing the words to lock the door. She looked out to Jesse who was passed out from the blood lost. She shrugged and slowly stood up. She walked calmly, too calmly for two men tearing up every piece of furniture in her house, and went over to the fireplace. She picked up the poker and swung with all her might at the two men. It didn't matter who she hit, but luckily it was Bobby in the back of the head. He went down like a brick and she held the poker out ready to hit Anthony if he charged at her. Zoe could see that Bobby was breathing, but barely.

She stared at Anthony. "Are you going to hurt me?! ARE YOU GOING TO HURT ME?!" She yelled it waiting for conformation that he wouldn't. She relaxed a little. "You're ... that ... Anthony ... you're ... I'm crazy. There's no such thing. I've been secluded here with all my books and writing and no company and I lost it. This isn't real. You aren't real. I'm really crazy."

Then Zoe sat down on the coffee table that was not in it's original place, put the poker down, and cried into her hands. She didn't want to be crazy.
 
The fight ended when the girl whacked the other man on the head with a fireplace poker, the heavy iron turning the struggling mass of muscle into a limp sack in a heartbeat. Anthony leapt back before she could swing again, the wolf in him still urging him to take her down quick, the man keeping control, but barely. He gave a wolfish growl and felt his muzzle stretching, but he clenched his fists.

The law said that she wasn't pack, and she had to die. His instinct told him she was a threat, and she had to die, but he couldn't. She had fought beside him, helped him when he was vulnerable. She wasn't pack, but she was the closest thing he had to a pack. She was terrified, staring at him, babbling. She sat back on the coffee table that had been turned over, and then back upright in the struggle. The poker hit the floor. She was helpless. He wouldn't even need to turn to kill her, but instead, he walked towards her, touching her cheek softly with his bloody fingers.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips. She would probably think it was a terrible time for a joke, but he hoped she'd agree it was better than having her throat torn out. He lifted her chin, looking into her beautiful, brown eyes again, and he smiled. Not pack, but she could be. She had the heart for it. He could tell just by her scent The thought of having her made him breath deep, and his cock stirred, swelling and stiffening just a little.

"You're safe, now," he said. "You're not crazy."

Outside, Jesse moaned, and Anthony turned away from the girl. This was not the time, not when there were living enemies. He grabbed Bobby by the leg and dragged him out the front door. He pushed the door closed behind him. She wouldn't want to see what he did to them.

It was hours before he returned from disposing of the bodies. He was full, content, but the girl was a loose end he couldn't leave. He cleaned himself up and put on his jeans, his t shirt, his boots. He knocked on the door, praying to the pack's spirits that she hadn't done anything foolish.
 
Zoe continued crying thinking about all the great writers who lost their shit. Yeah, they were famous, but she wasn't ready for that fame yet. This book had been too much for her and she lost her mind. But she thought she was making great progress being out here alone. Oh dear GOD! The book made her schizophrenic. Noooooo!

Zoe jerked back feeling fingers on her cheek. She stared up at the naked guy with tears still in her eyes and she knew she was fucking crazy. What the hell was he talking about 'meeting up like this'? He had come into her house? This is the 2nd time he turned her world upside down. As a matter of fact this was his fault! Zoe saw his jerk twitch and she blinked twice as her extreme grief turned into extreme rage.

He walked out dragging the fat one after telling her she wasn't crazy. In her rage she thought to herself, 'of courses not,' and stood up as he closed the door behind him. Zoe looked around and the rage was full on now. He had messed up her house again. He had brought bad guys to her home. Surely, it wasn't her who had attracted those idiots, but him. In her world this was all his fault and worse her home was a mess. Blood everywhere and broken furniture. This wasn't even her place. She couldn't pay for all this.

For a long time Zoe just stood there silently letting her rage fill her and work into a frenzy. Then she righted all the furniture, grabbed a mop and broom and cleaned like a mad woman. She had the whole floor slightly flooded as she got rid of all the blood before it stained the floors. She had fixed what she could of the furniture, but it a good bit of it she would have to replace.

Zoe now stood in a clean room. She wasn't exhausted, but still so angry. She had a bucket of dirty water and a mop in her hand and was going from the front room to the kitchen to put the supplies up after washing them out. If HE returned she would ... would .. hit him in the head with a baseball. Just as she had that thought there was a knock on the door. Zoe paused. No, it couldn't be. ... She opened the front door and there he was. Zoe growled low in her throat and threw the water in his face.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT?! YOU BROKE INTO MY HOME! YOU BROKE THE FURNITURE AND YOU BROUGHT BAD GUYS HERE AGAIN!!!!"
 
The door opened, and before he could speak, a bucket of disgusting water hit him in the face. It stank of blood and the usual grime of a house that is unused half the year. It was enough to make him nauseous, and he took a step back as the woman screamed at him. Her words sunk in as the stinking, filthy water soaked into his clothes. His jeans, his shirt. He clenched his teeth and then his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist twisting her arm behind her back. His other arm slipped around her neck, pulling her back against him.

“Those men came here for you,” he said coldly, trying to ignore his arousal at the feeling of having her in his arms, even like this. “And in case you didn't notice, they were leaving, until you had the bright idea of coming out and threatening them with an unloaded gun.”

Even in human shape, he could smell her anger, and her fear. It was aphrodisiac to him, making him stiffen against her ass. The pack law was simple enough. She had seen him change, so she had to die, just like the two men he had just killed. It would be easy enough. She was no fighter, for all that she had the heart of a warrior, and he could break her neck in a blink. He shook his head. She had helped him.

“They won't bother you again,” he said. He took a step towards her. “I don't want to kill you, though if I change again I can't promise that I won't.” He pushed her into the house, kicked the door closed behind them. “The pack law says I have to kill you because you saw me change. As a human, I can control it.” He whispered in her ear. “I can't let you go until I know the secret is safe. Or until you are part of the pack.”

There was only one way to make a human a part of the pack. He didn't think she'd like it.
 
Zoe glared at him and then shit went bad. She never saw his hand snake out at her. She sure as hell felt his hand on her wrist and suddenly she had her back against him and he was talking in a very stern, scary voice that her shaking from fear. OH and her internal voice was screaming at her that she was an idiot. She pressed against him and her struggles only prove to herself that she seriously was no match for this man. She took in a deep breath and resigned herself to being calm and thinking of a way out of this situation. For all intents and purposes she was now at his mercy and his prisoner. Something she did not want to be.

"All I heard were someone in my front yard. How was I supposed to know they were leaving. To me it look like they had just come out and I wanted them to leave. The gun wouldn't have been unloaded if there wasn't a stupid law that made you wait for the registration of a stupid gun to buy the damn bullets to it. Otherwise you and I would be having this discussion from the end of my barrel and I wouldn't be pressed against you like a fucking hostage."

Zoe was still scared, but she was also angry. She was trying to calm down and she desperately wanted him to let her go. She had helped him once and she guessed him beating the crap out of Jesse and Bobby and making them go home or whatever he done had made them even. Still he was the one on her front porch bringing trouble to her.

Then he said 6 words and the blood rushed to her head and her heart pounded so hard she barely heard the rest of what he had said. I don't want to kill you. Those 6 words echoed over and over in her mind. Oh dear Goddess he was a murderer and he was going to kill her. Zoe couldn't breathe. She felt like she was going to choke. He pushed himself into the house and she was still attached to him. She wished she had dialed 9-1-1 instead of trying to fix things herself. She wished she had left after the first time he had come. She wished so many things instead of being pressed against a man-beast thing and now imprisoned in her own home.

"Don't kill me. I promise you're secret is safe. Who would believe me? I swear please." Her eyes started to water again at the thought of him killing her.
 
He chuckled at her bravado. Then he pushed her forward, letting go of her wrist and dropping her onto the couch.

"If you had bullets for the gun, your friends probably would have taken it from you and used it to finish you off when they'd had their fun." He stood over her, ready for her to lash out, dripping the foul water she had thrown on him on her floor. "They'd have been smart to do it, too. You can always trust the dead to keep your secrets."

He took his shirt off, twisting it to wring the water out. He laughed again.

"You think you're going to fight me off with dirty water?" he said. "I don't want to hurt you. As foul as that smells, I don't want to hurt you."

He looked at her, his lip curling back. "You want to kill me. I understand that. Everyone who knows I exist does. You are afraid, you're angry. Tell me, should I have let it alone? Should I have let you protect yourself? Because to me, it looked like you needed help. Next time, I'll know better."

He slipped his boots off, one by one, kicking them aside. He unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down slowly, keeping his eyes on her. When they plopped to the floor in a wet mess he stood straight, naked again and hard this time, unashamed.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said. "If you want to kill me, use the gun you threatened me with the first time I was here. It has bullets, and if you can remember how to switch off the safety, you'll be able to shoot me. I'm sure you can figure out how to get rid of the body."

He walked away from her then, looking for the bathroom.
 
Zoe fell onto the couch eyes daring around while trying to keep the ... the,.. thing in view. She just couldn't wrap her mind that .. nope. No such thing. His words were harsh and she felt like he was slapping her. She winced as his syllable; each word hit home. She looked up at him as he lookd down once more with those threatening eyes as he made clear her being dead would keep his secrets better than him trusting her to keep quiet.

Zoe's eyes got big as he slowly undressed. He admitted again he didn't want to hurt her, but why was he getting undressed. Oh dear. Was he going to finish what Jesse and Bobby were trying to start. She started to shake in fear at the thought as she just listened and tried not to move a muscle unless he takes that as an invitation.

Then he walked off. Zoe couldn't breathe and realized she had been holding her breath. His questions still rang in her head, but right now she was in a house with a murderer. A naked murderer. Zoe immediately went to the mantle and picked up the revolver she had last time. The bullets looked so small could they actually harm someone? She looked on the side of the gun and saw that little lever thing. She held it out in front of her and imagined pulling the trigger ... except .. .except ... she couldn't.

She couldn't kill someone. Even though one senetence went over and over in mind. Everyone who knew he existed wanted to kill him. Her too. Yes, of course .. except .. he hadn't hurt her. He actually saved her. She was in trouble and he had helped her. Still, he was a murderer and he was going to kill her. Except, he hadn't or wasn't or ... Zoe started to cry. She couldn't kill him. She couldn't murder in ... cold ... blood.

Zoe heard the water and without thought bolted. She ran out the door, down the porch steps, and took off into the woods. The trees and branches pulled at her shirt, shorts, and legs. She stopped after a while breathing hard. She slapped her forehead. She hadn't put on any shoes. She also could have taken her truck, but stupid her had just ran like an idiot in the dark.

2 hours later and Zoe was lost. By this point she was trying to figure out her way back to the cabin, but with little moon and her being direction impaired she had no clue where she was or how to get back home. Worse she was getting cold and colder. "Okay, God, I'm sorry. Please tell me what I'm to do. Give me a sign. Anything. Help me. Please, please, please," She was rubbing her arms, teeth chattering, and lost.

"Please, please, please..."
 
He came out of the shower and dried himself off, only then admitting to himself that he had been afraid she would shoot him. He smiled and wrapped the towel around his waist, went back to the living room. Hopefully they could be find a way to at least be civil. He felt a pull towards her. They should be friends, lovers, mates even. Or was it just that she was the only person he'd spoken to that was still alive since his pack was killed?

He shook his head. It was more than that. She was his pack. She had to be, or he'd have to kill her, too. He walked through the living room, into the kitchen. He went back up to the bedrooms.

She was gone.

He was outside in a second. Her truck was still there, and he looked at the ground. A bare footprint in the earth at the edge of the driveway. Smaller than his. She had run. He went back inside, looked at his filthy clothes on the floor, and shook his head. He wasn't putting them back on, not til he'd had the chance to wash them.

It was dark, he had no clothes, he wouldn't be able to track her until morning. Not as a man. As a wolf, he could follow her scent. He could probably track her faster than she was running away, with no shoes on, but his instinct would be to obey the law when he caught her. She wasn't pack. She had seen him change. The alphas were clear on that.

But the alphas were dead. He was the pack leader now. He made the laws.

He dropped the towel and turned, springing into the forest with her scent leading him easily after her. He smelled fear, mostly, and anger, but there was desire there, too. He bounded through the dark forest, tongue lolling out, ears up, listening, smelling.

*

"Please, please please," she said.

She was near. He sniffed again, padding silently through the forest. He had been tracking her a long time, but as a wolf, he couldn't say how long. A good nap's length. She had gone down into a valley and then her path wound around, crossing itself several times. Wolves don't get lost, so he couldn't understand the trick she was trying to play, but he had followed.

The impulse to kill was strong, and he heard himself growl. He shook himself. He would not kill her. He slunk closer, touched his nose to her hip, sniffing her.
 
Zoe was standing in one spot shivering with her eyes close. She was still begging God to help her. She was hoping to get a breeze that pulled her one way or a sign or anything. Just anything that didn't leave her dying of hyperthermia, because she was too stupid to get in a truck and drive away.

The growl had her eyes springing open and as much as she tried to be completely still she was still shaking int he cold. She couldn't quite see in the dark, but she could see a dark figure. Zoe took a step backward, but the animal was already upon her and ... not trying to eat her. Zoe sighed. In fact it was acting pretty damn tame. "Is this your answer God?"

Zoe slowly stretched out a hand to the animal and realized it was a wolf. She had read somewhere to not act aggressive and be submissive around a wolf so she lowered her eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you so please don't hurt me. I'm a friend. You're my friend, right?" Her hand slid into it's fur and she petted it in what she hoped was a soothing and non threatening way.

"Oh dear Gawd you're warm." Zoe lowered herself to the cold ground and kinda got closer to the animal. He was so damn warm and she was so cold. "Please don't rip out my throat. Please don't hurt me. I'm just lost and want to go home and you feel so good."
 
He growled softly, quietly. He wasn't sure about God, but he didn't think she was, either. At least she wasn't throwing water at him again. She ran her fingers through his fur, crouching down against his body. She was shivering, she needed his warmth.

He turned his head and caught her wrist with his teeth, holding her gently, pulling her down. His nostrils filled with the scent of her, her emotions as plain to him as if she'd written a letter explaining them in detail. The anger wasn't gone, but buried under fear, and a little fresh hope appeared as she lowered herself to the ground, pressing against him. He could smell the heat of her blood and feel the supple flesh under her skin. He felt the impulse to tear her flesh, but he dug down and found the humanity inside him.

The humanity that had a completely different reaction to her body pressing against him. The wolf's body reacted to the human desire, instantly, hardening, the stiff cock pushing out of its sheath. He growled low, and reared up high, forepaws on her shoulders, pushing her down. An aggressive whuff of air demanded her submission.
 
Zoe continued talking sweet, soothing nothings to the animal as she petted it and got back some warmth. She was looking around too trying to see if they were alone or if he was just getting her ready for the kill and she became pack dinner. Still the animal didn't seem threatening. She was just petting it and was about to back away and try another direction toward her home, since she was less cold, when she felt his teeth against her wrist. Instantly she went still and waited for him to snap down and tear her hand off. She was shaking from fear, but trying her best to stay very still.

"Okay, wolfie. I'm sorry wolfie. I was gonna leave, but I won't. Please don't hurt me. Please don't kill me. I'm sorry." The slight pressure instantly had Zoe crouching and then kneeling on the ground. She wasn't sure what the hell was going on. Then she felt it against her leg and Zoe had been around enough male dogs to know what that felt was.

"Ewww, gross! No," Zoe pushed against the wolf's pressure for her to get on her back. Did the wolf think they were mates? She heard wolve's mated for life, but even this wolf had to know she wasn't an animal, but human. It wanted to fuck her and Zoe was instantly grossed out. She couldn't do this. Oh her life was pretty fucked up.

"NO, wolfie. I can't. You're an animal. We aren't .. oh god I'm going to throw up. I can feel it." Zoe scooted so that she was crouched, but on her feet. "I'm gonna stand up wolfie. I have to get home. Please. I don't understand what's going on inside your brain. What if you're retarded. I'm going to get raped by a retarded wolf that thinks I'm a female wolf and we're mates. Oh god, help me."

The cold was getting to Zoe and she was talking to anything now. "Okay, wolfie. We're mates, but ... but .. I have to get home. To the den. Where it's warm or I'm going to die. So .. you stay here and uh ... watch for predators and I'm going to try to go ... this way towards the den." Zoe was looking in the wrong direction of her house. She was just talking with her eyes lowered to the wolf and slowly backing up. This was too fucking weird.
 
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