Wolf’s Fox by Juniper Hart

4

The snow that had piled upon the Minnesota landscape disappeared almost as quickly as it had gathered. Somehow, spring was upon them, even though it was far too early to see blossoms and baby birds.

The ground had become a compilation of slush and mud, but that didn’t bother Nicholas in his wolf body. He rather enjoyed the slipping and sliding of the melting ice, much like a kid enjoyed stomping around in puddles.

No one would ever see this playful side of Nicholas Konrad. It was reserved for these runs alone in the woods and along the trails where he could truly let loose. It didn’t serve him to show the mischievousness of his nature in reality.

Today, he was out past the city, in one of his preferred spots, by Bear Lake. The ice had started to melt over the water, the waves struggling in the moonlight.

It was the first opportunity Nicholas had been granted for a run in almost three weeks. That first week after the full moon had set him behind at work, the search for the white fox he was now sure he’d dreamt making him late on deadlines. For more than twenty days, he’d thrown himself face first into his business, ignoring anything else that had come his way—including his mother, who had unfortunately seen him at the services, thanks to his reckless entry.

“You created quite a ruckus showing up like that,” Catherine had told him, half-chiding, half-proud. “Everyone keeps coming up to ask me when you’ll be coming around again.”

Nicholas now realized what a mistake he’d made by going at all. He felt like an idiot for having chased a ghost.

Tonight was proving an excellent evening for hunting. The full moon cast a brilliant hazy light over everything, and all the little woodland creatures seemed to have a halo about them, making them easier for prey.

Sated and content, Nicholas paused by the lakeshore to lick his paws and bay up at the moon, once.

A feeling of unsettling calm washed over him, and it took several seconds for him to realize that there were a pair of eyes on him.

Abruptly, he whipped his head around and stared down the distance, unsure of what it was he felt. There was no sense of danger, yet something was undoubtedly watching him.

Could it be…?

He had managed to put the idea of the white fox out of his mind for weeks now—or at least he had pretended as much. The truth was, she occasionally crept back into his psyche when he least expected it. On the phone with a client or poring over a project, the image of her creamy complexion and piercing eyes would pop randomly into his mind, causing his pulse to quicken.

But as he had been disappointed at the Ministry, he was equally disheartened here. There was nothing to be seen in the darkness, not even with the glimmering light of the moon.

Nicholas rose and ambled across the rocky shoreline, casually turning his head this way and that as he moved. He was nowhere near Fort Snelling State Park, but he suddenly had the urge to return there and search for the mysterious fox once more.

He was glad no one was around to witness his foolhardy impulses, paws pounding across the stones until he could no longer see anything around him but blurs of figures. His body moved strictly by muscle memory, his mind completely clear of anything but the destination. He had no sense of time or the elements. The wind rushed freely against his face, his excitement mounting as he drew nearer to the spot in the park where he had first seen the spectre-like blonde.

Don’t get your hopes up, he tried to tell himself, but talking himself down was not going to work, not when he caught her scent. She was there again, of that he was certain.

The full moon, he realized. She’s here because of the full moon.

It hadn’t occurred to him before that. Now it was blindingly clear.

He stopped, tongue lolling out of his mouth, chest heaving. He couldn’t recall the last time he had run so hard and fast, but when he turned to look at the moon, he saw that he’d made intensely good time.

Her smell was intoxicating, the pheromones rushing through his nostrils as they had the first time he’d seen her. Yet she wasn’t in view, and Nicholas was forced to track the scent.

She called me here, whether she realizes it or not, he thought grimly, chest tightening as the smell of her grew overwhelming. He was forced to pause again, dizziness overtaking him, and then he saw it.

The entrance to the cave was glowing. When he neared, Nicholas could smell the fire burning inside. He hesitated, unsure if she was alone. He didn’t want to startle her, but he reasoned that she would recognize him. Or he hoped so. At the same time, if she was not alone, he would have to find a way to get rid of her company. He didn’t want a third wheel.

Cautiously, he padded toward the opening of the cave and stepped into the shadows. She was in her human form, huddled down before the fire, hands extended. Her long, ashy hair fell forward to cover her face, but this time, she was clothed. Nicholas’ breath was stolen again, and he was relieved to find her by herself. He didn’t quite know how to approach her, her loveliness taking him aback once more.

Without warning, she whipped her head back, mouth parting into an “O” of surprise when her gaze fell upon him.

“H-how long have you been there?” she breathed, stepping back as if alarmed. Just as quickly, an expression of recognition crossed over her face. “Oh…it’s you!”

Unsure if he should take that as a positive or negative reaction, Nicholas chanced it and shifted, watching her face pale dramatically.

“Oh…” she whispered as he moved into the cave. Again, she stepped back. “D-did he send you?”

The opaque tinge of her skin worried Nicholas, and he stopped mid-step.

“Who?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. She didn’t answer but the clear fear on her face told him that he needed to respond with more conviction than what he had. Nicholas shook his head. “No one sent me. I’m Nicholas…Konrad.”

More confusion clouded her face, but some color returned to her cheeks.

“Aren’t you…aren’t you the same wolf I saw last month?”

Nicholas nodded and offered her a small smile.

“Yes,” he replied. “And I’ve been hoping to run into you ever since.”

She eyed him uncertainly. “Why?”

The question was loaded with suspicion. Nicholas laughed even though he recognized that the effect was slightly inappropriate given the circumstances.

“I’ve never met a white fox shifter before,” he replied. “And you’re incredibly beautiful.”

He didn’t add the part about her naked body keeping him up at night…in more ways than one.

More perplexity crossed over her face. “Are you sure you weren’t sent here?” she asked, but there was less skepticism in her tone this time.

“I’m sure,” he insisted. “Who are you hiding from?”

She dropped her gaze and shook her head. “Nevermind,” she mumbled, turning away slightly.

“Do…do you want me to go?” Nicholas asked reluctantly, afraid she might say yes. She jerked her head around.

“No!” she blurted out, but the second she responded, she again seemed confused. “But you probably shouldn’t stay, either.”

It was Nicholas’ turn to be disconcerted.

“I don’t really have anywhere else to be,” he said lightly. “Maybe I can just hang out for a while.”

“Hang out?” she echoed. Nicholas nodded and inched closer toward the fire. He sat down crossed-legged.

“Sure…if I’m not interrupting.”

She stared at him for a long while, unspeaking. Nicholas deliberately kept his eyes averted, sensing her nervousness.

What is her story?

It was clear that she was on edge, but it was more than that. She seemed to be from another generation, another time. It wasn’t uncommon for shifters to adopt the traits they had developed in their twenties and thirties, but the fox seemed to still belong somewhere else entirely.

“What are you doing here all alone?” he asked after a moment of silence. She didn’t answer right away, and Nicholas looked up at her. She still stood against the wall of the cave, studying him with wary eyes. “Is this like a ritual or something? Am I interrupting your prayers?”

If it was, it was like none that Nicholas had seen, but in his experience with Baneism, nothing really surprised him. He knew that many native tribes used fires in their traditions, though there was nothing about this woman that suggested aborigine roots.

“A ritual?” she repeated, raising a white eyebrow. “How so?”

“I don’t know,” Nicholas tittered. “That’s why I’m asking you.”

“No. No ritual,” she replied slowly.

Nicholas pressed his lips together. This was not how he had envisioned seeing her again. Every minute that passed seemed to make things more awkward between them. He was about to ask her if she wanted him to leave again when she spoke.

“Do you know Luthor?” she asked in a rush of breath. “Please, tell me the truth.”

Nicholas frowned and shook his head. “I don’t think I know anyone named Luthor,” he responded slowly.

She swallowed visibly and lowered her eyes, her body following. Her back against the wall, she mumbled something that Nicholas didn’t quite hear.

“What was that?” he pressed, scooting over closer. Again, her head flicked up, and she met his eyes with a deadpan expression.

“He is the being I was promised to since infancy,” she said emotionlessly. Nicholas grinned, thinking she was joking, but when she didn’t return his smile, he realized that this was a woman in trouble, just as he had suspected.

“Like an arranged marriage?” he asked incredulously, thinking of what John had said to him.

White foxes are coveted, particularly the females. A shudder of disgust shot through him. In this day and age? No way.

Yet the expression on her beautiful face told him that she was deeply concerned about a real threat.

“I can’t be sure,” she said, sounding lost. “I was given up when I was a baby.”

Nicholas gaped at her, his blood running cold at her proclamation. “You what?”

“That’s what Miss Whitaker said, but I can’t really be certain of much that she told me. Reyna suspects that I was taken or sold for quite a sum of money,” she went on, speaking as if a dam had broken inside her. “I don’t know, for I haven’t had much luck finding any information on my parents—not that I’ve had the opportunity. A fox has limited capabilities, even in this glorious age of technology.”

Dumbfounded, Nicholas stared at her, not clear on anything she had just said. He cleared his throat, trying to get his thoughts in order. He considered that she might be mentally ill, but his heart told him that wasn’t so.

She’s afraid.

“You think I’m lying—or out of my wits,” she said flatly, looking unhappy.

“No, I don’t,” Nicholas replied firmly.

“You do. I can tell by the strange look you’re giving me.”

“Why don’t we start at the beginning,” he said, choking back the knot of indignation in his throat.

“That is the beginning,” she sighed, folding her arms against her ample chest.

“No,” Nicholas corrected her. “The beginning would be your name.”

For the first time, a small smile quirked her full lips, and her shoulders relaxed as if she finally accepted that Nicholas was not out to get her.

“Ruthie,” she answered, extending a pale hand toward him. “Ruthie Edwards.”