Leave Janelle by Sarah Spade
5
Ienter the cave as cautiously as my other half will let me. She assures me that the worst I have to fear is a few chirping insects and maybe a frog or two, but I have to see for myself. Only when I’ve proved that it’s as safe a sanctuary as I could hope for do I finally loosen my death grip on my daughter’s scruff.
She drops to the stony ground before immediately spinning around, ducking under my front legs.
I rumble, letting her know that I’m here. I’m with her.
We’re together.
Thank the Luna.
Unfortunately, though, my wolf’s fur is still soaked. Hers too. We have no human clothes so, for now, we’ll have to stay in our fur. Despite it being summertime, the shadowed cave is chilly. Even if we’re drenched, we’ll be warmer wearing our fur over being naked in the dark.
I lay down on the ground, nudging Ruby so that she’s nestled in front of me while I get as comfortable as I can. Then, once I have, I nod at the space I’ve left for her. With another of her yips, she plops down between my paws.
She’s gotta be exhausted.
Laying one of my paws on her back, I start to clean her with the flat of my tongue. Not the type of bath I prefer to give my girl, but it’s all I can do right now.
When she’s as dry and as clean as I can make her, she curls up, resting her muzzle on her own paws as she blinks sleepily up at me.
Ah, sweetie.
My girl.
My Ruby—
No.
No.
I don’t know why it’s only just hitting me now, but as my wolf nuzzles the top of her head, I realize that leaving the Wolf District... that was only the beginning. Sure, we made it out of Jack’s territory and onto some other pack’s land, but the shifter world is small. There’s no way I can hide from Jack forever—I accepted that even before I left the cabin behind—but she, at least, has a chance.
If I want to save her from Jack, Ruby Walker the omega wolf has to disappear.
She’s too young to know what we’re running from, what we’re leaving behind, and in some ways, that’s a blessing. Maybe we can start over after all. And even if we can’t, I’ll do anything to give her that chance.
It’s a good thing that I was always so careful to keep her hidden. The pack knew we had a pup, but Jack didn’t push me to show her off to them. She was his dirty little secret, the runt of an omega wolf that he couldn’t believe he had sired.
And if Jack had actually sired an alpha?
Oopsie…
I peer down at my daughter. Now that he knows the truth, it’s not just me he won’t want to get away. I can’t even begin to imagine how valuable my little alpha is, and I’ve had the last year to come to grips with it.
Now that I’ve left him, I don’t have to go back there. Getting out was the hard part, but since we never actually bonded, I can leave him; as much as Jack will fume over it, I’m not on his territory anymore. He can’t bring me back if I don’t want to go.
But Ruby is still his daughter, too. He has a claim to her. He’s her father, and even though she’s here with me, there isn’t a single shifter alive that would stop Jack from getting to his daughter.
Which means that, from this moment on, she can’t be.
Okay. Okay. If she can’t be Ruby Walker, who can she be?
When I was pregnant with her, I used to daydream about what it would be like once my daughter was born. There was a connection between us from the beginning, and even if I couldn’t tell that she would be so unique, I always knew she’d be my girl.
Ruby was one of my top choices for her name. I had a few others, too, but I never thought I’d be allowed to use them. Jack was so proud that I was having his pup and he refused to accept that she’d be anything but his Junior.
Of course, then he discovered that she was female and he lost his Luna damned mind over it as if I did it in on purpose. He refused to even meet her the first few days of her life, and when he finally did, he just called her “that”. Better than “little bitch”, but any illusions I had that being a father might change him died a quick death that day.
On the plus side, I got to name her.
And now, a year later, I’m going to change it.
I need something sweet. Something delicate. A name so harmless, no one will ever guess she’s a female alpha or the daughter of the Wicked Wolf.
It hits me right as my head starts to feel heavy and I’m ready to follow my dozing daughter into sleep.
Gemma.
And not just Gemma. To distance her from her infamous father, I need to change her last name, too. As soon as Jack took me as his mate, my name was changed to Walker like his, but even if I gave her my maiden name, it would be too easy to tie her back to me. I need her to be someone else entirely.
Gentle.
Non-threatening.
The opposite of a predator—
Swann.
I’m going to call her Gemma Swann.
Who can be afraid of a smiling, blonde pup called Gemma Swann?
But, most importantly, she’ll still be my Ruby deep down.
My precious, precious Gem.
* * *
Gemma is curled up,fast asleep. I waited for her to settle down completely before allowing myself to get a little rest.
And a little is all I get.
Actually, it seems like it’s been no time at all when my wolf suddenly jerks awake, muzzle curled back to show off my fangs as I hurry to all four paws.
When I went to sleep in the depths of the cave, the scent of other wolves was faint. Old. Not any longer. That same male scent from before is more powerful, as if he’s followed our scent trail and tracked us to the cave.
The barely audible click, click, clicking of claws against the stone outside just proves it.
Intruder. It’s an intruder.
I don’t know who exactly is outside of the cave. I don’t know why they’ve decided to track us here; whether they’re searching for us on purpose, or if they’re just curious about a strange shifter on their territory. I don’t care. My pup is in the cave which means that I have to do whatever I can to keep everybody else out.
The same urge to protect has me and my wolf going absolutely single-minded.
Protect the pup.
Protect Gem.
I burst out of the cave like a bat out of hell. It could be Jack himself out there and that wouldn’t stop me. I’m willing to attack first and make apologies later if I have to.
I’ve never gone feral before, though I’ve heard stories of wolves who sacrificed the little humanity they had in order to go full wolf. Is that what’s happening now? Could be. I’m running on pure instinct as I leap at the wolf-shaped shadow that is pacing outside of the cave.
He wasn’t expecting me to attack. That much is obvious. The male is a large grey wolf, his fur tinged with black on the end, and he’s at least twice my size. My omega side screams alpha, but it’s too late. I’m snapping my jaws, using my smaller size to my advantage.
I go right for his leg. My wolf’s fangs wouldn’t be enough to do any real damage to his thick throat, but if I can bite through the meat on his back leg, I might be able to catch him off guard.
I do better than that. Because the big wolf wasn’t prepared for me to streak out of the cave and snap my jaws on his hind leg, he doesn’t hold his ground. Between my hit, my momentum, and the bite, he steps back, losing his footing before he tumbles down the side of the rocky hill.
And because I wasn’t prepared to knock him off the hill, I clamp my teeth and tumble with him.
I bounce down the side like a freaking pinball, landing on top of the male wolf when we eventually hit the ground below. I can taste the tang of his blood in my mouth, my canines buried deep in the muscle of his leg. I never let go as I fell, but as soon as it sinks in that I’m down here and my baby is back in the cave alone, I quickly react.
Tearing my teeth from the wolf’s leg, I jump up. The male wolf shakes off the fall, slowly climbing back to his four legs. Snapping my jaws at him, I warn him against following me before bolting back up to the cave.
Later, when I was thinking more clearly, I couldn’t believe that he listened. He had the size—and the aura—of an alpha wolf, and the scent markers I picked up on earlier are mainly his. This part of the woods is definitely his territory. Me and Gem are trespassers… but he doesn’t follow me.
At least, not right away.
I gave up on sleep. I went back to the cave because I had proven that I could defend it, and Gem needed some rest. After my run-in with the male, I was too amped up to even think about sleeping again. It was all I could do to drag my pup close to me, placing her between my paws so that I could keep an eye on her.
A few hours later, the most delectable scent comes wafting past my snout. Like before, my shifter’s nose catches my attention first. Only, this time, I’m not geared up to protect my pup.
This is a completely different instinct.
Food. My stomach is grumbling as soon as the scent of fresh meat hits me. There’s food out there.
My pup starts sniffing. Her eyes are still closed, but she can smell it, too. A moment later, she lets out a soft whine.
She’s gotta be hungry.
That seals it for me.
I pick Gem up by her scruff, padding toward the back of our cave. Until I can figure out what’s going on, I want to keep her out of sight. If it’s a threat out there, I don’t want her getting in the way—or, worse, thinking she has to protect me instead of the other way around.
And if it’s not a threat? Just because any other shifter will be able to scent that I’m not alone in the cave, that doesn’t mean I have to let them see her.
After I set her down and, with a pointed bark, tell her to stay, I move carefully back to the cave opening. There, laid out like a feast for us, is a deer. I can see the marks where the predator took it down, but the best parts of the kill are left for us to eat.
As a human, I can be pretty picky. When my wolf’s in charge? I’ll eat anything—but not this.
It smells so good, but when I sniff the carcass, deer isn’t the only scent I pick up on. The male who killed it is all over his prey. And, though I can hardly believe it, it belongs to the male wolf that I attacked.
He’s left me food. In the shifter world, that has only one meaning. Considering I attacked him, I can’t imagine that this is anything other than an attempt at a peace offering, but just in case…
Yeah. I can’t eat it, but my pup will starve.
Peering out of the cave, I look for him. His scent lingers in the air, but I don’t see him. The deer is still warming, so I know the kill hasn’t been out here long. Still, he’s gone.
With a low howl, I call Gemma to me. My pup comes bounding over to me, tongue lolling playfully not that I’ve let her out of the darkest depths of the cave. Then she sees the deer and begins to flop over in excitement.
I snort out a laugh, swinging my head toward the deer. Gem bumps into my side before diving at the deer’s belly.
I’ll hunt later. Now I know that there is plenty of prey in these trees, and if the male wolf repaid my attack by leaving a meal for us, I hope he’ll look the other way when I go hunting for myself.
Until then, we’ll stay right here. The cave is secluded enough and I can guard it. For now, it’ll have to do.
* * *
The deer is onlythe beginning.
For the next five days, the same male wolf returns twice a day—at dawn and dusk—with a fresh kill. Sometimes it’s deer, sometimes it’s elk, and after about the third day, he always leaves a hare or two out there.
The appearance of the hares makes me nervous. Though I’m a wolf, I’m not the world’s best hunter. Comes from being coddled as a kid, then basically kept as a prisoner. My fight with the male wolf had to be a fluke. I can’t take down anything too large, and though it probably takes me three times as long to hunt, I can usually snag a hare to feed myself.
Maybe he thinks they’re my preference because he suddenly starts leaving them behind for me. I try to convince myself that his senses are so keen that he knows the type of prey I’m hunting. Otherwise, I have to admit that he’s out there watching me while I hunt.
Then again, maybe that’s better. If he’s watching me, then that means he’s not watching Gem...
He has to know I have her with me. I refuse to let my pup leave the cave, just in case, but someone’s eating his kills—and it’s not me. Still, he brings food every day before disappearing into the trees.
On the sixth day, he doesn’t.
Oh, he brings meat. That’s not all, though. Next to the kill, there’s a bag. I can scent the sugar in the air as soon as I edge out of the cave. Torn between curiosity at what’s concealed in there and my insatiable sweet teeth, I don’t realize that he’s sprawled out on his side near the edge of the footpath until I’m almost all the way outside.
His ears twitch. That’s all it takes. His ears twitch, and my head jerks his way. How I missed his scent, I have no idea, and I blame it on how his daily visits keep it current. The big wolf doesn’t get up. He doesn’t do more than that simple twitch.
I still turn tail and run back into the cave.
Gem’s hungry, though. And I… I really want to know what’s in that bag. I wait as long as I can manage, then tiptoe closer again.
He’s still there.
It becomes a game of cat and mouse. He’s the big bruiser guarding the mousehole, I’m the skittish mouse who can barely pop her head out without worrying that he’s going to go for my throat.
But he never does. Every time I check to see if he’s gone, he’s still laying out on his side, head turned to watch me with his dark gold eyes. Even if I could try to fool myself that he was just a massive grey wolf—and not a shifter—those eyes give him away. He’s definitely one of my kind, and his aura just proves that he’s an alpha like Jack.
Well, not like Jack. Because this wolf isn’t after revenge, and he’s being kind instead of cruel.
Maybe that’s why his presence out there baffles me.
Eventually, my worry for my pup wins out. I don’t let Gem go to the mule deer out there, dragging it by its hoof into the mouth of the cave instead.
The wolf doesn’t move.
I take heart in that. So, when Gem’s eating her fill, I pad softly back onto the ledge.
And… he still doesn’t move.
In fact, he seems to be staying as motionless as possible as if he’s trying not to spook me. When I hook my paw around the bag, his eyes seem to light up, and he lets out a soft, huffing sound, but that’s all.
I grab the bag between my teeth and high-tail it back inside the cave.
Since leaving Jack, I’ve stuck to my fur. It’s easier to hunt, to bathe in a small creek nearby, to pee. But when it comes to opening up a to-go bag, hands are better than paws. I shift back, arching my back to stretch it, then hunch down on the stone floor.
Tearing into the bag, I have to swallow my cry of delight when I discover the slice of strawberry shortcake
As a shifter, chocolate can be hit or miss because of the way it historically affects our beasts. Some of us don’t mind the eventual headache or the poops, while others get their sugar fix elsewhere. For me, a slice of cake like this is perfect.
My hands are filthy. He included a set of plastic utensils but after almost a week of hunting rabbits to fill my belly, I can’t be bothered with ripping them open. I just pick up the cake and shove it in my face.
I save a small sliver for Gem. The rest? It’s demolished in seconds. I even lick the icing from my dirty fingers before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, then swiping my tongue over that next.
The sugar makes me brave—or maybe I want to let him know that me accepting the cake doesn’t change a Luna damned thing. I was weak, so I ate it, but he’s still a threat as far as I’m concerned.
But when I go out there to tell him that, he’s finally gone.