Thea

I woke around mid-day to the sounds of people arriving downstairs. My heart began hammering in my chest. It dawned on me that I wasn't really supposed to be here when the werewolf hopefuls arrived.

My workout clothes with stiff with sweat, so I dug some more in the dresser and unearthed a sports bra and a t-shirt that was huge on me and baggy sweatpants. The shirt smelled like Tag despite it's recent washing and the pants smelled like Charles. Maybe this would be enough. On instinct I shoved my phone and car keys into my pocket and left the room.

I wandered around upstairs, listening to everyone file into the downstairs meeting room and Bran began talking to them. I used the opportunity to go down to the kitchen to find something to eat.

I was bending down to get a cast iron skillet out of the cabinet when I heard three wolves come into the kitchen. None of them smelled familiar.

"Look at what we have here, a little submissive pup," one of them sneered.

I stood up with handle of the skillet in my hand, just like Asil had taught me. My mouth almost quirked up in a smile. I needed to go to him, I realized. We needed to fix this.

"Do you really want to be causing problems in the Marrok's house with his only submissive wolf?" I asked, planting my feet on the stone tile floor.

"She's right," said one of the wolves. "You really shouldn't be doing this."

"Shut up Ralph," said the first one.

"Yeah, shut up Ralph," said the other one.

I could smell their arousal and the pleasure they got from being cruel to those they deemed weaker then themselves. I lunged for the kitchen door and ran out into the steady snowfall.

"You stupid bitch, get back here!" Yelled one of them.

"No!" I yelled back, yanking hard on the pack bonds the way Asil had taught me. I was almost to my truck when I tripped on the baggy pants and fell in the snow. Then I realized that of them had lunged for me and grabbed my ankle, refusing to let go. I realized I was still holding the skillet and I swung at the man's head as hard as I could, smiling grimly at the sound of a satisfying crack. He let go of my ankle in the shock of the attack and it gave me the seconds I needed to get into the car. I barely managed to pull up my pants as I threw myself through the passenger door and locked it behind me.

I scooted across the bench seat and turned on the truck before roaring over Bran's front lawn and down towards the road, fleeing the scene as I went. All sense went out the window and I fled through the heavy snow. I couldn't tell where I was going, and I hadn't been driving in Aspen Creek long enough to know where I was by what I could see while driving.

I didn't know where the turn for Asil's house was, but I took a guess and too soon I was bumping over a road that clearly didn't get used very often. I narrowly avoiding hitting a tree that was growing up out of the middle of the road and I finally had to come to a hard stop in front of an enormous boulder. I was barefoot and terrified. I had no idea how to get down off this road in one piece, and looking around I realized with sinking dread that there wasn't any place for me to turn around. Then I saw something glinting through the trees and I realized after a moment that it was the light from my headlights reflecting off of glass; window glass. I was near what looked like an old, abandoned cabin. It was getting colder out and the snow was getting deeper. I had to go now if I was going to get to the house at all. Maybe I could wait out the storm there and hike out as a wolf when the storm stopped.

Making sure I had my phone and keys. I pushed open the door against the breathtaking wind and forced myself to run barefoot through the soft frigid snow up to the dark cabin. I tried to door and breathed a sigh of relief when it creaked open.

I shut it behind me and stood in the dark, taking in the faded scents of something or someone who hadn't lived there in a long, long time.

The storm had effectively blocked out the afternoon sun and it took me a moment for my eyes to adjust to the near darkness. I stumbled over to the table and after a moment's fumbling, lit the oil lamp that sat on the rough hewn table. The walls were rough boards with nothing more than tar paper protecting me from the storm. The uneven wood boards on the floor were worn with claw marks that could only have come from a werewolf. There was a large fireplace against the back wall with an old iron cooking pot hanging on a hook over an ash filled fireplace. I little rummaging around unearthed a small wood pile in a cabinet along with a basket of kindling. A little more searching found me a large box of matches and I set about making a fire. When the small cabin was sufficiently warm I dug out my phone to see I had about a dozen missed calls and no cell reception out here.

I suddenly felt the weight of all my decisions, and the amount of trouble I would be in when I was dug out. If I was dug out. I could die out here, and Asil was never going to know how sorry I was for storming out. I didn't think I had left Aspen Creek, but to be honest I wasn't entirely sure where I was or whose cabin this had been.

There was an old wool stuffed mattress on a makeshift wood bed frame. The quilts on the bed were faded but clean looking. I climbed into bed and curled up my knees to my chest and tugged at the pack bonds, hoping that my insistent tugging would somehow miraculously lead Asil, or perhaps Bran, to me.

I mean, Bran was my Alpha, he was responsible for my well-being. At least that's what he had told me. He might clobber me for panicking and running, but I had honestly done what they had told me too, I had fought until I could get away and then called for help. It wasn't my fault I had gotten lost in the storm and wound up here.

I wondered if they would believe me. I wondered if I would starve to death before enough snow melted for me to get out of here alive.

It was about this time that I realized I was lying on a book and I dug under the pillow and pulled out a leather bound ledger.

I opened it and looked in astonishment at the handwritten journal pages. The hand writing was from a time when handwriting was considered an art form, and calligraphy was taught in schools. It was remarkably legible. I distracted myself by reading the accounts of a man named Jericho. As the journal progressed, the handwriting got considerably worse and the thoughts more disjointed. I wondered if this was what was going to happen to me if I ever lived this long.

I took my hand off the book to swipe my hair out of my face and promptly lost my place. I mutter an oath before realizing that the book had fallen open to a page with unreadable handwriting and a photograph of two men I didn't recognize standing next to Bran. They all looked young and bright-eyed. Alive. It occurred to me that Bran must have been friends with the man who had lived here, and that there must have been another friend too.

It hadn't occurred to me until now how lonely Bran must feel at the top. I really needed to give him more of a chance; he was just doing a job no one else was powerful enough to do. We could have a far more tyrannical ruler than Bran. We were lucky in so many ways, given the brutality I had witnessed and experienced.

Bran could be a bastard, I finally decided. But that didn't make him any less deserving of my compassion. I slipped the photo into my pocket to give to him if I ever saw him again.

I must have fallen asleep because I was startled awake by pounding on the door. The fire had turned to embers from my neglect and something had extinguished the oil lamp's flame.

I sat up and stared at the door, wondering what I should do.

I realized that Bran's skillet was still in my truck. My feet were freezing and despite my best efforts, the cabin seemed bare. Outside it was pitch black and I could hear the storm screaming around the cabin. Anyone with a brain between their ears would have gone to ground hours ago.

The pounding got louder. "Please, let me in! This storm has me all turned around, I don't think I'll find my way home tonight."

People lived out here? It seemed unlikely. But if it really was just a lost hiker he might not survive the night if I didn't let him in. I climbed out of the groaning bed and shuffled across the chilly floor towards the door. I reached for the handle and pulled open the door to admit a man with pale blonde hair in braids poking out from under a thick wool hat. He wore a heavy leather jacket lined with shearling and had an impressively thick red beard that was pulled into three braids.

"Oh thank you for your kind hospitality ma'am," the man said as he shut the door behind him. He had on thick gloves and it wasn't until he was inside and out of the storm did I notice the enormous double headed axe in his hand and my blood ran cold.

*Thea!* Bran called. *Asil and I are coming! Do not let any one into the cabin, we'll be there soon!*

I gave the man a smile and did my best to calm my heart. "You're welcome, it's a terrible storm out there."

"Yes, it is, it's amazing how fast these snow storms crop up in the mountains," he said, placing his axe by the front door and stripping off his gloves. He pulled off his jacket to reveal a bright red hand knit sweater over a white henley shirt that had seen better decades. He held out his hand. "Name's Geir."

With the scent of snow and wind off of him, I could smell that this man was a werewolf like me. And more to the point, he had been the wolf who had appeared on the edge of Asil's back field when my leg was healing from the bear trap.

"Thea," I replied, shaking his hand firmly.

"You are surprising for a submissive wolf of the Marrok's," Geir said, his English was very British, but I had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't his first language.

"And why is that?" I asked, shifting my body so that I stood between Geir and the door, but the man didn't seem concerned that I was closest to his axe.

"I've never met a newly turned wolf, especially a submissive wolf, who could best Olaf Turner," he replied and my blood ran cold as I came to the startling realization that my coming to this cabin had been planned.

"You wanted me to come here," I said. It wasn't really a question even though my voice turned up at the end as though it were.

"I made sure that there was fresh firewood, oil in the lamp," he said. "I cleaned Jericho's old place for you. He doesn't need it anymore."

Jericho was dead, apparently. I had no idea if this Geir was responsible or not for that, but I had the horrible feeling that Geir was expecting more from me than a warm place by the fire.

"Thank you for your generosity and kindness Geir," I said, careful to face him and keep my eyes on his knees at the same time. "But I have a home."

The man's eyes went from dark green to ice blue in a heartbeat.

"The Moor is not your mate! He is not anything! Where is your mate bond? I cannot smell it!" The man howled.

"I don't know anything about a mate bond," I said, careful to keep my voice slow and even. "But a home and a relationship are about more than sex."

"No," he yelled, getting close enough to my face when he did it that I got blasted with spittle and breath that smelled like cat food. I consider it a point of pride that I didn't recoil in disgust and horror to make the situation worse. "I brought you here for me— for us! My brother's and I deserve a mate. Olaf said you'd do it!"

I had no idea who this Olaf Turner was, but if I ever saw him again I was going to run him over with my truck.

Assuming I ever got it out of here.

I was horrified that this strange wolf would think I would sleep with a perfect stranger, let alone more than one, but I couldn't figure out how to diffuse the situation and get out of here. I knew in my gut that I wouldn't survive 30 seconds in the storm outside. I was barefoot and my pants kept trying to fall off. But my clothes smelled like Charles and Tag, and I lived with Asil, he was all over me.

Even if I made it to my truck, I knew I couldn't get it out of here from all the snow, and Geir would only have to break the car window and drag me off. I couldn't try to change to a wolf, because even if I could somehow pull it off, I would be vulnerable and naked with a potential threat looming over me. I just had to keep stalling until Bran and Asil got here.

"I don't know who this Olaf is," I said gently. "But I never agreed to be anyone's mate."

"Lies," the wolf screamed, rushing at me and pushing me back several steps until I felt the cold steel of the axe against the side of my heel. "I made sure we would have a chance to meet before you came here."

I let out a shuddering breath as I realized he was responsible for the bear trap. He had broken my leg in an effort to orchestrate a meeting. Asil was right; he was insane. I needed to do what I had to do to stay alive until back-up arrived. "Perhaps I could be persuaded though, to leave Asil."

I felt sick as I said it, but I still forced myself to remain calm, keep my heart as steady as I could. I reached out a hand and placed it on his chest. He was boiling hot and sweating through his shirt. I ran my hand down his chest and onto his flat stomach and as I did it, his eyes became a sharp blue with his wolf. I could smell his arousal and it made me sick. I hated what I had to do as a woman to keep myself safe.

"You're so hot, maybe you should take off your shirt to help you cool off, and give me a better view of what I'm getting," I said, relieved at the smile on his face as he unbuttoned sweater and threw it on the table, he pulled off his shirt and I used the scant seconds I had to grab the axe and swiped at him as hard as I could. The weight of the axe surprised me and a hit that was meant for his rib cage dragged my arms down and I took a hit at his right thigh.

I heard the snap of a bone and he fell to the floor with a scream.

I struggled to pull the axe out and then took another swing at his legs.

*We're here!* Bran called in my head. *We can see your truck. We're coming to help.*

I embedded the axe in his other leg, breaking that bone too. I stumbled backwards, pulling the axe free at an awkward angle and sliced through the big muscles of his legs as he screamed manically.

"You stupid fucking bitch!" Geir screamed, grabbing at his legs in pain.

I was crouched down, the heavy blades of the axe rested on the floor and I used the handle of the axe to support myself. I panted and stared at the man who had broken my leg and then lured me here to be raped and forced into sexual servitude for himself and his brothers.

"This axe," I panted. "Belongs to me now. Consider it reparations for your sins."

About a second after I said it, Bran and Asil pushed the door open behind me, knocked me forward.

I fought my way to my feet so that I wouldn't get too close to Geir who was still screaming from his wounds and used the momentum to swing the enormous battle axe up onto my shoulder as I danced away from Asil, Bran and Geir.

"Ofaeti," Bran crooned dangerously, looking down at wounded man. "What have you been doing?"

"A mate, a mate for my brothers and I," the man insisted.

"He said his name was Geir," I said breathlessly.

"His brother is Geir," Asil said quietly. "He looks after Ofaeti his twin brother, both are too old, mad, and dangerous to be left to their own devices. Come Thea, let's leave Bran to deal with this mess."

I headed for the door, my bare feet padding on the chilly wood floor.

When Asil saw my bare feet I could smell his rage grow. Without a word he picked me up and carried me from the cabin and down the hill through the trees to Bran's SUV. When I was seated in the backseat, I set the axe on the floor of the car and chanced a glance at Asil's face.

"Asil, I'm sorry I—" I started to say, but Asil held up a hand for me to be quiet.

"No Thea, it is I who should apologize. You are right, I never should have suggested that you would bring harm my pack and home. I am very old, and sometimes my memories haunt me. This is not an excuse, but an explanation," Asil said gently. "Please, won't you forgive me?"

I was so relieved to be back with Asil that I threw myself at him and wrapped my arms around him. I buried my face in his stomach and breathed in deep.

"I forgave you when I was in Bran's kitchen yesterday," I said. "Seconds before I was attacked."

Bran opened the door just at that moment and looked at me from where I was snuggled up against Asil.

"Ofaeti says you took his axe," Bran said mildly.

"He was the one who set the bear trap to break my leg and orchestrate a meeting between us. Then he tricked me into coming all the way up here in a panic with the intention of raping me and forcing me into sexual servitude for him and his brothers. I'm not giving the axe back, it's mine. Consider it payback," I said just as mildly.

Bran narrowed his eyes at me for a moment. We both knew I was teasing him but in the end he just shook his head and shut the door, heading back up the hill.

"Did you really break Ofaeti's legs with his own axe?" Asil asked, sounding impressed.

"It was better than the alternative," I said, looking down at the axe thoughtfully. "I think I found the weapon that suits my personality."

I could feel Asil smiling down at me.

"Yes," he said. "I think you did too."

When Bran finally returned, he climbed into the car and started the engine.

"I'll have Tag tow your car down off the mountain when the storm blows out," Bran said. "Now, tell us what happened."

So I did. I told them everything that happened. I was half asleep on Asil towards the end of the story, but a memory rocketed me into consciousness.

"I found this and saved it for you," I said, passing Bran the photograph. "There was a journal too, by someone named Jericho, but it was too big to take with me in the moment."

Bran seemed stunned for a moment, staring at the picture in the dim light.

"Thank you, Thea," he said, sounding touched. I patted his shoulder affectionately and he reached up and caught my hand in his. He squeezed my hand and then released me. He backed out and somehow managed to turn his massive SUV around in that tight space before taking off down the mountain.

"Thea, you were tricked into meeting one of my wildlings," Bran said as he drove. "These are wolves that are too old and mad to live safely anywhere else. There are reasons for them to be in the back country like this. In the normal course of action you never would have met or even known about them."

"Don't worry," I said huskily. "I won't betray their privacy. We must all strive to protect the pack."

When we reached Asil's house the two men turned to look at me.

"Thea, will you please come home with me?" Asil asked tenderly.

I smiled at him and took his hand. "There's no where else I'd rather be."