Welcome to all my new Likers! Dont forget to enter the Give-away...only two hours left! With only four days to go until Bound by Fate is released, I thought I would post an excerpt for our new crew! Enjoy! # # # # “Come on!” she growled, her hair swinging wildly as she twisted her head to glare over her shoulder at her pursuer. “Catch me if you can!” With a mighty surge of her legs she leaped the old stream bed, landing lightly on the balls of her feet, running flat out now, her legs getting into their stride. He’d never keep up, much less catch her. The layout of these woods imprinted on her mind so much she could have ran through it with her eyes closed and not brushed off a single tree. Laughing, she threw a look behind her and noticed that she was now alone. He’d disappeared. Good. She had no wish to be followed any further in any case. She liked being on her own, rules be damned. A stupid and out-dated concept, making her travel with a Guardian at all times, even on their own land. It was even worse in the confines of the circular village the pack lived in. You didn’t even have to step off your own front porch to see almost every other building in the little pack town. Eyes, everywhere, and most of them fixed on her. The pack lands were extensive enough that she could lose herself as well as her Guardian if she wished to. This was a wild land, and only the wild survived here. Of course the humans had set up their own villages, towns and cities outside the territories here, but rarely did they encroach on the lands handed down from Alpha to Alpha, further back than anyone could remember. Giant swathes of land were parceled up and designated to certain packs by the first Were Council centuries ago, in order to bring all the bickering and warring to an end, and since then, this little slice of wilderness belonged to the Loam Floor pack. There were two other packs within traveling distance, the Tall Grass pack – which it so happened had been locked into a bitter blood feud with her own for years – and the Swift Runner pack to the east. Beth couldn’t remember anyone ever seeing a Swift Runner wolf up close and personal – they were so secretive and, well…swift. She shook her head slightly, her loose blond hair swinging at the small of her back, barely out of breath as she once again thought how silly it was to guard her as if she were a child. If she lived in the human world, she’d be considered a woman grown. It was even more unbelievable, that while an un-mated female was considered a child, an un-mated male could still find his place in the hierarchy. Take her Guardian, for instance. Mid-twenties, shocking good looks and un-mated, he was still permitted to join the ranks of the Guardians, and trusted enough to be around the juvenile females – though the more she thought about it, the more she realized she’d never seen him acting inappropriately with any of them. Whatever, it was still unfair. She snorted in derision as the trees blurred past. As if he could even keep up with her. She had no idea what had prompted the wolf to volunteer for Beth duty, but it would be a good guess that he’d thought to keep her in line. Ha! Even the grizzly old mated wolves couldn’t do that unless she allowed them to. Luckily, she’d perfected the art of ditching her escort as soon as they were far enough from the Den House that to go back and alert them to her ploy would only give her a bigger head-start. She would return when she wished to and not a moment sooner. Not that she was planning to get up to no good. On the contrary, she just wanted to swim in the icy creek where it widened into a bowl of water, and spend some time with her own thoughts, without the hindrance of a guard watching her every move, perking his ears up at every little sound and generally making her uncomfortable. These recent years were peaceful times; the blood-feud with the neighboring pack had settled into bitter memories and muted ramblings of shoulda, woulda, coulda’s. It had been two years or more since any blood was spilled, and a full season since anyone had even seen a member of the Tall Grass pack. Stupid name too, she decided, her mood changing to a lighter tone as she picked up the distant sounds of water. A nice little dip in the frigid water, and then an hour or so basking in the autumn sun, gradually warming her clammy skin would do wonders for her normally tempestuous disposition. A sudden snapping sound, disrupting the solitude and peace of the day made her jump. She froze. Had Gareth found her already? Was he even now creeping up on her, readying himself for the take-down and inevitable bout of cursing and screaming the pack shrew would put him through? He’s such an ass, always trailing me like a snake in the grass. She smiled at the image of a snake with Gareth’s head glaring up at her, telling her she shouldn’t be out here alone. “What the hell do you want?!” she demanded, turning in the direction of the sound. A keening arose from the thicket ahead of her, and she paused. What trick was this? Why didn’t he just come out and show himself? She knew he was there. And he knew she knew. Games, she cursed. Always playing games, this pack. And most of them are mind games, damn them! She had long ago been initiated into the power-struggles and constant sniping within the hierarchy of the pack, and wanted nothing to do with any of it. Oh, to go rogue! Tempting thought, but she could never do that. Her poor, mad mother had gone rogue, getting herself killed and leaving Beth and her two brothers to die of starvation in the deep, dark woods. But it was so long ago, and the woman in question nothing more than a stranger, that there was no deep trauma to awaken and no real pain to endure. She didn’t even know what her mother looked like, being too young to remember her. Besides, the pack had found her, mewling in a hole in the damp ground, pawing at the remains of her brothers rotting beside her. Sole survivor of her tragic family. Lucky, some said. Ill-fated, others whispered. But mostly, they avoided looking her in the eye, knowing she was not a true member of the pack, and refusing her the very essence of pack-life. The closeness of pack and the assurance of a place in it. She had no place. She was just… lost property. Screw this, she thought, fed up of Gareth and his games, striding towards the thicket, intending to make him another piece of lost property. Foolish wolf. Did he think she wouldn’t make the connection? “Aww, poor Gareth,” she whined. “Did you fall, sweetheart?” Surely the playful tone of voice would tip him off to the fact that he was about to become the prey and she the predator. She might even have a bit of fun with this one before he hauled her home. A fight was exactly what she needed right now.
Posted on: Mon, 25 Aug 2014 11:33:29 +0000
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