Guarded Hearts

Author's note: All characters and companies mentioned in this story have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone or anything bearing the same name or names. Events portrayed in this story are pure invention and have not been based on any events that have happen in real life. All the characters involved in any sexual acts if their ages are not mentioned before hand; are over 18 years of age. Enjoy.

Hi everyone.

Here is chapter 1 of Guarded hearts. For those who are new to my stories this is one of a series, so if you jump in now you might get a little lost, my bio lists the reading order for the Twists of Fate series.

Okay so... big thanks goes out to everyone who sends feedback, thankyou and please keep it coming, whether it be good or bad. However, the biggest shout out goes to my editor, who works wonders.

Thanks and don't forget to comment and vote.

~ Some time during the Tenth century AD~

The rhythmic beat of drums penetrated his dreams, overtaking the pleasant dream of chasing after some deer from his mind and waking him. Now that he was awake, his ears picked up more details then just the insistent drums, the protesting groan of wood as the giant oars were forced to cut through the water and the strained grunts of the men behind those ores.

He opened his eyes slightly, the heavy chains, which bound him, came into focus first, then the massive bars, which were also in place to keep him contained until the Chieftain, needed him. Bile rose up in his mouth, which he forced himself to swallow as he fought off the memories of what the warlord had forced him to do. A crack of thunder roared over the insistent drums as the long boat was rocked violently sliding his naked body across the uneven deck and into one of the ribs, which supported the boats structure.

He pushed himself up and wedged his body into the corner as the long boat rocked and rolled in the turbulent seas. He closed his eyes and prayed to the great Odin to be released, for the boat to sink in this storm.

His prayers fell on deaf ears in Valhalla as the insistent drums continued to beat.

He was dragged from below deck by the chain, which was wrapped around his neck; he forced himself to his feet and followed them from the Long boat. He barely kept the sneer from his face as his eyes swept pass his countrymen in their armour and battle dress, as they prepared for slaughter and conquest.

Their eyes turned away from him in fear, fear of what he was and fear of it being passed on to them and them joining him in his little cell at the back of the long boat. Although none of them would admit their fear, for fear of being mocked.

The Chieftain was before them, dressed in richer furs with better armour. "For glory and for Odin!" Said the Chieftain as he raised his sword into the air and his men cheered.

The man holding his chain stepped forward as it started to rain, and undid the heavy chains, which bound his arms and kept his stride restricted. "Change." The man ordered before he tugged on the chain that remained around his neck, the constant reminder of his captivity that followed him from form to form.

He closed his eyes and called his wolf forward, the thing that made him different to his family, different to his people, a freak and a monster. His body shifted with grace and at the end of his shift; there stood a massive black wolf with grey underbelly in his place.

The Chieftain took his chain, "Come my pet," he said as the rain started to beat harder. "For ODIN!" He cried and raced off into the woodland with a massive Wolf at his side.

He growled as he stood over the Chieftain's dead body, his muzzle covered in the Chieftain's blood. It had been too easy to lure the Chieftain from his men, pretending there was a scent when there was none. As the Chieftain followed his beast he hadn't thought that the beast would turn on him, would want to kill him. Just as easy as it was to lure him from his men it had been doubly easy to kill him. One lunge, his teeth snapping through his neck, instantly fatal. His beast had wanted to make his death slow, slow like the deaths he had been forced to inflict on others but his human mind said no, that they would never be free if they weren't fast.

He carefully took the Chieftain's necklace in his mouth, on it the keys, which would release him from the chains. He yanked his head bringing the keys with his body.

He heard the approaching cries of enraged men and he ran, faster than he had ever run before. The chains of his oppression trailing in his wake.

He stalked carefully through the underbrush; he was a much-changed man after a few months of freedom. He knew he would eat faster if he let his wolf come forward to hunt but he knew that he had to learn this. He had managed to use his beast to hunt in order to get furs, as a child he had been very handy with a sling so a small part of the leather made went to the sling the rest went to clothes.

He was careful as to where he put his feet so as not to startle any near by animals. He jerked as a cry of pain startled the hare he was hunting, the animal bolted.

He hovered uncertain for a moment then went to investigate the sound. He was just as careful approaching the human who had made the noise as he was hunting the hare. He watched the injured man who had by the looks of it broken his leg. The man was dressed like him in furs only of much better make; his hair was long, straight and black. His skin was a deep brown as were his eyes.

He considered what he was going to do, help the man or leave him. He watched as the man tried to drag himself to a fallen tree and sighed, he couldn't leave the man to the weather. He approached the man carefully.

The man jerked and his eyes went wide, he muttered something in a language he didn't know.

He thought about trying to speak to the man but the only current language he knew was Norse and he wanted nothing to do with it, he wanted nothing to do with a people who were so cruel. He had spent time forgetting the name he had been given by the Chieftain, forgetting the name given to him by the old man who had taken him in and everything to do with those people. Sadly, however he could not remember the name he had before Oleg had given him a name worthy of a Norse man.

He knelt and studied the break; he stood and snapped the other man's spear as the piece of wood was at least straight so it would act well as a splint. The injured man flinched as his spear was broken wondering what the pale man was going to do. He put them either side of the break and used a cord he managed to make to bind it to him. He helped the man up and supported his body; he then waited for the man to point the way.

The injured man pointed and they started to move in the right direction.

It took the better part of the day to get the injured man back to his tribe. People stared in open curiosity as they approached, never had they seen someone with skin and hair as pale as snow. Several men approached to take the injured man from him.

When He was relieved of his burden he started to back away, someone grabbed his arm; he turned to see another man who pointed him to go deeper into the camp. He walked forward and was directed into a rough wooden structure, where He was offered a seat and food.

He moved silently through the leaf litter, Little Bear walking along side him, his bow and arrow at the ready. He was a much happier man these days; he lived with people who treated him with respect. They had decided to call him Ghost, for his pale colouration and for the fact that he moved silently even through the thickest of leaf litter, he had startled so many people by suddenly being next to them without any warning that Ghost was the perfect name. They were slowly stalking a small heard of red deer. It was early spring, a little over a year since that fateful day when Ghost helped Storm Dancer back to his tribe. He glanced to his right and saw Sparrow also stalking the small herd. They were hoping to get half the small herd of twelve, to take the fresh meat back to the tribe.

Ghost got close to the ground, his pale skin was smeared with dirt so that he wouldn't stand out in the hunt. His long blond hair was braided back and had feathers woven into it. He was dressed in well-tanned leather that wrapped around his legs and tied at his waist, a leather loincloth covered his private parts and soft moccasins covered his feet. His emerald green eyes watched the deer carefully; they continued to move quietly carefully moving into position.

Storm Dancer gave the signal and they loosened their bows. The deer that could ran but the hunters had gotten the number they wanted. They expertly slit the throats of the deer to let them bleed and organised some cut down saplings to carry the meat back.

They got back to the camp a few hours later. They were instantly mobbed and the meat taken to be portioned among the families, the hunters however would get all the useful bits, sinew, tendons, some bone and the most important part the hide.

Ghost laughed as he sat with the hunters and smoked with them as women went about preparing a meal. "I am glad we made the choice to make you join us Ghost, we never would have gotten close without you." Storm Dancer told him.

Ghost smiled as he took a strong pull on the pipe before handing it on. "I'm glad I stayed."

Ghost knew the tribe were starting to get curious, he had been with them now for at least thirty years and he had not aged a day. He was however loathe to go back to being alone, the emptiness nearly drove him mad and as such, he had made it his duty to protect these people from anyone who meant him or her harm. He sat in his small lodge waiting, he could hear them whispering, since Storm Dancer's death they had been looking at him strangely, wondering how he could still look like he did when he first came here.

He heard them surround his home and sighed, he wondered what he should do as he stood to face them. He left his home ducking through the door and stood squarely before those he called friend.

"Why do you not age?" A young man demanded.

Ghost turned to Still Water, he had watched Still Water be borne, had helped support his growth when his father Little Bear had been killed by a rival tribe, had taught him to hunt. "I do not know why, I have been this way for so long I barely remember being a child." He took a deep breath, he couldn't explain why, he simply didn't know how. "But I think the reason I don't age has something to do with..." He looked around but could tell they wouldn't believe him if he told them which meant he had to show them.

He stepped back and took off his shirt, as he didn't want to ruin it. He took another deep breath and let his wolf come to the surface. His body started to shift startling those who watched. In moments a midnight black wolf stood before them, twice, three, even four times the size of the biggest wolf they had ever seen. He stood before them for long moments letting them digest what they had seen before shifting back into his human form. He stood before them naked waiting for them to act, to do something that would indicate whether he ran or stayed.

They stared at him for long moments in shock. He just waited but a few minutes later, when they were still standing there in shock he thought he had his answer.

"I guess I will leave then." Ghost turned and went to go back into his home to pack his things to leave. He dressed and started to pack everything be could into a pack saddened that he was leaving the lodge he had built for himself. As the group dispersed, Two Crows followed Ghost into his home, as he had become chief after Storm Dancer's death.

Two Crows watched silently as Ghost organised his things, "stop Ghost." He said gently, "Sit with me." He said as he sat on a thick bearskin without waiting to be invited in. Ghost joined him and waited.

Two Crows watched Ghost for a moment. "Why do you wish to leave us?" He asked gently.

Ghost took a deep breath, "I have never told anyone what happened to bring me here." He rubbed his face and the stubble growth there. "One of the tribe of people I was staying with saw me shift, they captured me and chained me up and kept me to be used as a weapon of battle."

Two Crows nodded in understanding, he now understood why Ghost didn't really let people get close to him, why he had not taken a woman, he was afraid to be used that way again.

"When I was brought to this land I took the opportunity to be free and got away from them. Then I helped Storm Dancer and was welcome here."

"Was... you still are welcome here." Two Crows told him earnestly. "Do you remember the stories you were told, the one why we never hurt our brother the Wolf."

Ghost nodded as he did remember, a great wolf had taught them to hunt and in honour to that knowledge they left food out for wolves to keep them from their stores and never hunted a wolf unless it had become dangerous to the tribe.

"So why do you think we would hurt you... you have a wolf spirit inside you, you are our brother. This is your home as long as you want it to be." Two Crows told him as he stood. He turned and left Ghost's home.

A few minutes after Two Crows left Still Water walked in with some food. "I'm sorry Ghost." He said gently. He offered the food to him and sat.

"I understand why you did it, if in your moccasins I would have done the same." He said accepting the gentle apology, he put the plate down between them and together they picked at the food.

"Will you leave us?" Still Water asked quietly.

"I will stay as long as I am welcome." Ghost answered.

Ghost felt his beast stir as Snow walked pass him carrying wood, he followed her movements much to the amusement of the men with him. It had been many years since that day they learnt he could shape shift into a wolf. So many years since he had revealed himself, in fact that he had seen the birth and passing of five more chiefs after Two Crows.

Running Horse nudged Ghost to get his attention. "You want my sister to be your woman?" He asked.

Ghost nodded, "So does the wolf inside me, I've never felt him react this way before."

Running Horse chuckled. "Are you going to talk to Kicking Bull?" He asked referring to his father.

"Yes... but at the moment she is still too young." Ghost answered as he lit his pipe.

"Can't stop you from arranging something." Eagle Hawk said as he stood.

Ghost howled as his heart was torn to pieces, his beautiful Snow slumped to the ground. He growled and lunged at the man who had killed the woman he had been going to marry in a few days time. He tore the man to ribbons and turned to take care of the other man who had helped to kill his Snow. He winced as the sword cut his side but the other man didn't last long against him. He stood panting over the dead men for a moment before he turned his attention back to Snow.

In moments, he was a human and cradling the woman who he had come to love. He cursed himself, if he had just been faster, he could have stopped her death. He continued to hold her until he felt the change in temperature, it reminded him that he needed to return to the camp and return her body to her family. He stood and carried her body back to the camp.

He walked into the camp and after a few moments, keening wailing calls erupted around the camp. Ghost was oblivious to it all as he made his way to Kicking Bull and Bitter Bush's home. He dropped to his knees before Kicking Bull and bowed his head.

Several older women came and took Snow from his arms; he let his arms fall limply to his sides and stared off into space. Running Horse and Eagle Hawk grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet.

Kicking Bull stood before him and rested a hand on his shoulder, "you did what you could, I do not blame you for her death, do not blame yourself." He told Ghost solemnly before turning to go into his home, Running Horse and Eagle Hawk half walked and half-carried Ghost back to his home.

"You did nothing wrong Ghost, don't beat yourself up." Running Horse told him before they left. Ghost put his head in his hands and cried as his world came crashing down, everything that mattered to him suddenly had no meaning, not the people he considered his, not even the wolf within him mattered. His grief was all encompassing and he didn't know how he was going to cope now that she was gone. Having known her, having come so close to what could have been the completion of his soul, only to have it snatched away from him. It felt like a cruel joke and he wanted to die.

Over and over, he analysed what he had done, what he should have done, in order to save her. If only he had moved faster, if only he had ignored that other cry for help, if only he had been closer to the camp when they attacked, if only...

The guilt ate at him; it was his fault that his Snow, the one person he had wanted to share his life with was dead. ALL HIS FAULT, he raged silently. He wanted to die, to join her in the after life. He needed to die, he didn't deserve to live.

He forced his body to shift and ran from the camp, he ran and ran until his muscles burned but he ignored it. He knew the high cliff was just ahead and ran blindly at it, throwing his body over the edge. He fell and heard the sickening crunch of his body slamming into the hard rocks. He however knew he wasn't dead and as he lay there, he wondered if it was even possible to kill himself.

When the moon finally started to rise, he could move again. He stood and shook his body and howled his grief into the night, grief at his loss and grief at the fact that he couldn't even kill himself. That he couldn't end his misery. He decided that he would keep trying. He ran again this time to a deep lake. He shifted back into his human form and grabbed a massive rock; he pulled the rock slowly to the edge of the cliff above the lake. His muscles burning under the strain. He pulled the rock as he forced his body back into the water. The rock weighed him down forcing him to the bottom of the lake. He released his breath when his body was wedged between the rock and the bottom of the lake. He waited for his lungs to burn and for death to take him. No such thing happened, he waited and waiting, counting but still his body didn't die he just laid there submerged in water.

He managed to push the rock off him and swam to the surface; he took a breath when he surfaced but his lungs acted indifferent to the influx of life sustaining air. He swam to the shore and paced on it, he couldn't save Snow and now he couldn't even kill himself, he was doomed to live eternity alone and in constant guilt of his failure to protect his mate.

He wished he could forget, and with that thought he knew, he knew what to do. He called his wolf forward and met him in the darkness of his mind;I don't want to feel anymore, you can have control.

His wolf tilted his head but he could feel his human side's depression he was just as sad at losing his mate but if they could not die then they had to move on. He agreed and swamped his human's mind pushing it back deeply into the darkness of their mind. His body shifted and the wolf ran off into the darkness leaving the world of men behind him.

~September 2018~

Katie gently stroked the cat that she had been trying to re-home for the last couple of days. The friendly ginger tabby rubbed its face against her lightly tanned skin, her blond hair was pulled back into a sloppy knot, her green eyes were gentle and caring, a large heavy silver pendant hung around her neck, kept tight by the leather cord. She scratched the tabby gently before returning it to its cage with its dinner.