Legend of the White Wolf Page 28


Hell, what next? He had to take care of Faith, and then Charles, but how could he take care of anyone while he was in the form of a magical wolf?


Cursing his situation, he tore off across the snow again, heading straight back to Faith. A couple of the dogs had followed him from the other team, and so did his own, making him truly feel like the alpha leader of the pack.


When he finally reached the campsite, Faith was gone. Or maybe she was hiding inside the tent. There was no sign of anyone else, and he realized then—there had been no sounds of snowmobiles approaching the area. Then the wolves had to have returned.


The dogs that had remained behind greeted him and their teammates. It wasn't until he got around them to head for the tent when he saw what probably had shaken Faith.


Kintail's men lay naked in the snow where Cameron had killed the two wolves. He stared in disbelief. That could have been him, if they'd gotten the best of him instead. Shaking loose of his surprise that they had the same affliction he had, Cameron rushed over to the sled, wishing he could turn back into his human form and dress and see to Faith. They had to get the team together and take care of Charles.


Cameron closed his eyes and concentrated. I want to be human again.


He opened his eyes. Nothing had changed. Hating not being in control, he growled low. He nudged at his clothes with his long wolf's snout, pawed at them, wanting to put his things back on, to be himself. But still, he didn't change.


Without another plan, he loped toward the tent, hoping Faith was all right inside. But when he pushed the flap aside, he found the tent empty. Hell. Trying not to panic, he attempted to smell where she'd run off to. Or had someone managed to take her?


He found no signs of any tracks other than wolf prints, and the impression in the snow made by her small boots. He raced after her, hating not being able to holler her name.


When he found her, if he found her, what then? She'd think he was the same kind of wolf that he'd killed, most likely. Some type of alien aberration.


The sound of footfalls followed him, and he whipped his head around to see all the dogs chasing after him. His breath frosty in the breeze, he paused and sniffed again. Straight ahead. He bolted in that direction, his tail straight out. The tracks indicated she'd stumbled and fallen several times, running at first, then slowing her pace as if the need for flight had dissipated.


When he finally saw her not very far from camp, she was sitting in a pile of snow, her white parka and clothes nearly blending in. She looked back, her eyes widening when she saw him with the teams. The dogs raced to greet her, and Cameron moved in close with them, hoping she wouldn't shoot him, or wouldn't attempt to with the other dogs surrounding him.


Tears sparkled in her eyes and streaks of tears trailed down her cheeks. But the dogs were so enthusiastically licking her and poking her to go with them, their actions stirred her from where she sat. He wanted so badly to take her into his arms and hold her tight. Damn what he'd become.


Warily, she watched Cameron, then patted some of the dogs and rose to her feet. She didn't pull the gun on him, yet, but she kept her eyes on him as she headed toward him in the direction of the camp. Good. Maybe he could nudge her into hitching up the team and joining Charles until Cameron could figure a way of changing back. If he could. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to die first. Damn, what if Kintail somehow changed people through these attack wolves and then once they changed, there was no turning back?


No, Cameron had done it before. Damn, then that meant that he really had seen Chris and his friends in the tent that one night. Oh hell, if they hadn't seen Bigfoot, had they seen someone like he was now?


When Faith neared him, she made a wider circle around him as the dogs escorted her back, some racing ahead, some running by her side. Cameron inched in closer and nudged her gloved hand with his nose in greeting. She looked like she was about to run.


Don't run, Faith. He'd take chase. He could already feel the urge rising in his blood. He didn't want to scare her, but the instinct was too great.


She was already walking as fast as she could, trying to get away from him. He stayed close. Don't run, Faith.


But as soon as she got near enough to camp, she dashed for the tent.


Had she left the gun in the tent?


Hell, maybe. His shoulder already hurt like the devil, and he didn't need her shooting him, too. Beyond that, he had to convince her to take care of Charles, who could be dying for all Cameron knew.


He bolted for her, the thrill of the chase coursing through his blood. The dogs barked with glee and Cameron lunged for her.


As soon as he pounced on her back, she screamed and fell face first in the snow. And then, lay very still, but he didn't move either. If he released her, she'd go for the weapon. She continued to remain motionless. From the sound of her too-rapid heartbeat, her heavy breathing, and her slight trembling, he knew she hadn't passed out, but rather was playing possum. He wanted to smile at her clever deception.


The playful urge to take her down gave way to some thing deeper, more primal and possessive. How could he want her now when he was a wolf? But the more he tried to deny his feelings, the greater his need to have and protect her surged through him.


The strange feeling that had consumed him, rushed through him again, the heat, his muscles and bones stretching, until he was butt naked and his backside was freezing as he pinned her down.


How the hell did he change back? And worse, how was he going to explain to her what had happened to him?


He cleared his throat. "Faith, I'm going to let you up, and we have to get the team hitched. Charles is not far from here, but he's been hurt and isn't responsive. We need to hurry and give him first aid."


"Cameron?" Her voice was muffled in her ski mask, kind of a squeak.


"It's me. Cameron." He spoke close to her ear, huddled against her for warmth. From the surprise in her voice, he guessed she was thoroughly confused. Why wouldn't she be? He still couldn't get over the change himself.


Then a new thought occurred to him. What if she thought he had bolted out of nowhere and shoved her down, protecting her from the big bad wolf that was chasing her?


He groaned. Then what? Tell her, or keep it a secret a while longer if she hadn't put two and two together?


"I have to dress. Why don't you take down the tent while I do that, and then I'll get the dogs together?" Cameron let her up and raced over to the sled, trying not to think about how cold he was, hoping she didn't go after the gun and shoot him in the back. But if he didn't get dressed quickly, he was going to lose some body parts to the frigid air. Beyond that, his new wolf bite shot streaks of throbbing pain from his shoulder straight to his brain, and he was having trouble concentrating on much else.


When he'd donned everything but his parka, he looked back to see her staring at him, her eyes dark and wide. He hoped she'd realized what had happened so he wasn't left with trying to explain, or keeping his strange condition secret. Deep inside, he knew he shouldn't tell her what had become of him, that it would be safer for him, and for her. "Hurry, Faith. We've got to help Charles."


Her expression changed slightly, from still in shock to all business. She whipped around and went into the tent. He hesitated to do anything, his first thought she was going for the gun. But then she came out holding his rolled sleeping bag up and headed for the sled. "Hurry, Cameron. You have some explaining to do."


Well, that decided that. He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms to give her a comforting hug.


At first, she was stiff, but then she melted, wrapped her arms around him, embracing him as if she had found her long-lost love and never wanted to let him go. Still concerned that she might be in shock, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, then ran his gloved hand across her cheek. "Let's get you settled in the sled bag. I'll take care of everything else."


"I'll pack the tent." Her gaze fixed on his, making her seem determined to get through this on her own.


He leaned down and kissed her cold lips and hugged her with a bear of an embrace. He still worried she might be in shock, but when he tried to steer her toward the sled, she shook loose. "I'm… I'm all right." But he could tell by the hesitancy in her words, she was putting on a front.


He let her go, but while he rushed to get the dogs' booties on, and harnessed the team, then hitched them to the sled, he watched Faith dismantling the stove pipe from the stove, then working on the tent, to ensure she truly was all right. She seemed to be, and afterward, he packed the stove and tent on the sled. But then he caught Faith's gaze focused on the dead men lying in the snow.


"I'm sorry, Faith."


"You're injured," she said, changing the subject, her voice more sure now, and he was glad to hear it. "We have a first aid kit and I'll take care of you after we see to Charles."


"It's a deal." The burning in his shoulder from the fresh wolf bite hurt like hell now and every move added a twinge of excruciating pain through the muscles.


He wondered if Faith was in denial though—if she truly didn't believe he was the wolf, or if she did and just couldn't acknowledge it. He sure had refused to believe it. Well, still did to an extent. Now that he was back to his normal self, he couldn't imagine being able to shapeshift again. At least the urge to run as a wolf was gone for the time being.


Glancing at the dead men, Cameron took a deep breath. "I'll clean up the camp a bit. Be right back."


He grabbed the shovel she'd dropped in the snow and buried the two men. It was as proper a burial as he could give them, but he figured Kintail and his men would come for them eventually. For a moment, he stared at the mounds, wishing it hadn't come to this. Figuring he'd killed a couple of wolves, wolf to wolf, he never imagined…


The wolf part of him felt no remorse. He had to protect Faith and the huskies. That was a given. The human side of him…


Then he remembered Faith's terrified expression. The wolf would have killed her. The man-wolf. It didn't matter what form they had taken. Cameron wouldn't have let any of them harm her.

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