Wolf's Girl Ch. 02

Mack quickly wrapped her arms around Laura and held on. If she stayed out here with her much longer, they'd both start crying. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry he's gone." She hesitated, then added, "I'm sorry we weren't in love."

Laura pulled back and smiled at her. "It's okay. These things don't always work out." She lightly touched her hand to Mack's stomach and smiled. "Take care of yourself. That's my little niece or nephew you're carrying." She turned to pull the car door open. "Oh, and I still have some baby things in storage. Maybe... maybe you could come by for Thanksgiving and see if you could use any of it?"

Mack beamed. "Yes, thank you. I will. See you soon."

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The huge gray wolf that was once Giles prowled on all fours along the forest floor. No one who had ever seen a wolf could mistake this for one of the ordinary kind. It was too large, its back too broad, its forelegs too long, its forepaws too much like hands. Hunger prompted the wolf to sniff out faint tracks in the snow. Caribou. Male. Older. No longer near but close enough to follow. Something else mingled with the smell. It drifted to him through the trees from somewhere upwind. He raised his great, shaggy head. His black nostrils twitched as he studied the scent. Man. No, not man. Something else.

The gray wolf growled low and harsh in its throat and narrowed its eyes. Someone was in his territory. And he knew exactly who it was.

He padded softly through the snow, keeping low to the ground and making as little noise as possible. It wasn't long before he spotted his target. A huge white wolf with pale, ice-blue eyes watched him with a challenging gaze from a clearing just beyond.

How dare he show himself here? What did he want? Food? Mate? Both? The gray one launched himself forward with a vicious, defiant roar. White met the challenge with his own, charging at his attacker. The two titans clashed in the middle of the clearing in a furious mess of fur and fangs. Droplets of blood splattered over the pure white snow.

Gray had size and power on his side but White had speed. White dodged at every opportunity, avoiding blows by circling around and under. Gray whirled around and chomped at him in frustration.

White took off, running as fast as his long legs would carry him. Gray pursued. His fury would not be sated until White was dead. Gray snapped and snarled, nipping at White's heels whenever he seemed close enough to sink his fangs into foot or tail.

The chase followed a twisting path downhill through the trees. Once clear of them, White leaped into the air and landed solidly several feet away. Gray stayed low and fast and maintained his thunderous pace.

Suddenly, Gray felt something grab his hind foot. It snapped painfully tight, then yanked him straight up into the air. He thrashed and howled as he tried to free himself, twisting up to swipe at whatever was holding him.

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Giles' head hurt. It was a strange, swollen, uncomfortable feeling. His foot felt strangely numb and something pinched horribly around his ankle. He swung back and forth from that extremity, trying to make sense of the upside-down world he was seeing.

Giles struggled, panicking as he began to awake fully. Trapped. Caught. Danger. White's fault. Where was White? Kill White.

"Good, you're awake." Ryan approached, but kept his distance, because the moment Giles saw him, he violently pawed the air with both arms, trying to grab at him. It was futile. Giles blinked at him, trying to in vain to turn his head right side up to see him correctly. He gave up and allowed himself to hang limply, arms pointed toward the ground. He was suspended by a cold steel cable, held taut from a solid tree branch at least thirty feet overhead.

Ryan walked forward. Unlike Giles, he was fully clothed and appeared quite comfortable. Behind him was a small campfire. Ryan stepped up and smacked Giles on the face a few times. "Hey, wake up. You in there? Say something."

Giles growled like an animal, though it was nothing like the growls he'd made earlier as a wolf. He blinked a few times, seemed to come to his senses, then grabbed Ryan's wrist and held on. "If you're gonna kill me, you'd better do it quick. If I get down from here first, you're dead."

Ryan leaned in, nose to nose with the hanged man. "If I was going to kill you, I could have done it while you were passed out, idiot."

"Maybe you wanted to gloat."

Ryan twisted his hand away and walked back toward the fire. "Fine, hang there as long as you like. You can't shift for a while and you'll probably lose the foot. An injury like that won't regenerate. Why not save yourself time and gnaw it off?"

Giles grunted as he repeatedly raised himself up and tried to pull the snare off of his foot. His icy fingers couldn't seem to grab on to the metal that pulled tightly against his bloodied, bruised skin.

"That's half-inch braided steel cable, by the way. Good luck with that," Ryan remarked as he pulled a coffee pot out of his pack.

Giles, too tired and annoyed to bother freeing himself, went limp again. "Would you just get me the hell down?"

Ryan didn't bother to look up. He scooped a large amount of untouched snow into the coffee pot and set it on to boil. "Only if you promise not to attack me or run off. I'm tired, I've been tracking you for over a week, and you're making me miss my first holiday with my kid."

Giles felt a pang of regret in his gut. "Fine. I won't run off." There was a pause. "C'mon, my ankle is killing me and my balls are swinging in the wind. And getting frostbite."

Ryan sighed, rose from his spot, and walked over behind a tree. "I really ought to just drop you," he muttered. "but I don't think you could afford to lose any more brain cells." He unclamped the cable, unwound it from the stakes holding it in place, and lowered Giles to the ground. Once the naked man was safely down, Ryan pulled a blanket roll from the bottom of one of his bags and tossed it to him.

Giles sat in the snow and rubbed his ankle and foot, trying to restore circulation. He grabbed the insulated blanket and wrapped it around himself before hobbling over to the campfire. Ryan pulled out a second folding stool and set it up for him.

"Thanks," Giles grumbled, not without a little sheepishness.

Ryan allowed a silence to settle while the melted snow boiled in the pot. "Do you have any idea how long you've been out here?"

Giles shrugged. "A few weeks, maybe." His body shivered under the blanket as it fought off the chill.

"It's been almost two months since anyone has seen you. How long were you planning on staying?"

Giles shrugged. "Wasn't going back. This is where I belong."

Ryan shot him a look. His expression didn't seem to hold much regard for the older man. "You never struck me as the irresponsible type until all of this. You could have lost your mind completely. It's not safe to stay a wolf for that long. Eventually you forget you're human at all."

"I know," Giles answered. "No big loss. It's the human half of me that doesn't belong anywhere."

"And how did you plan to control the wolf without the human to rule it? You were going feral."

"Bullshit. I was fine." Giles tucked his good foot up a little more, keeping both inside the blanket and off the snow.

"Do you even remember our fight a little while ago? You would have murdered me. And you never would have fallen for that," Ryan said, jabbing a finger at the snare hanging from the tree, "if you'd been in full possession of your mind. Only animals get caught in snares." He pulled the pot off the fire, poured coffee grounds to the percolator, and put it back to simmer again.

Giles didn't have an answer. He raised one eyebrow. "What was your plan if I missed the snare?"

Ryan yawned. "Lead you to the ravine beyond that hill. It would have been up to you to survive the fall. Even then, I couldn't have let a wild werewolf run around loose up here. Eventually, someone would have stumbled into your territory and you would have killed them. And that would have endangered all of us."

Both of them fell silent for a while and just stared into the fire. Once the coffee was done, Ryan poured a cup for Giles and took one for himself.

It was the pack leader who broke the silence. "So, you found out you were going to be a father and just took off, huh? Abandoned your mate and child without even a good-bye. I really thought you were a better man than that." He stared into the fire, jaw locked.

Giles huddled over the enameled metal coffee cup, stealing every bit of warmth from it he could get. His own gaze was hollow as he stared mournfully into the flames. "They're better off without me."

"Really?" Ryan, dressed as he was in proper gear, sipped his own coffee casually. "Then I guess you won't mind if I take Mackenzie and her child into my household. She can serve my wife. I'm sure Lily would love to have someone scrub the floors."

Giles darted a harsh, angry glance at the other man. He knew Ryan was baiting him, but the idea still made his guts twist with dark jealousy.

Ryan met his errant werewolf's glare with a mild look of his own. He examined the fire again and remarked, "Are you aware that you went to her house?"

"What?" Giles wrinkled his brow in confusion.

"I stopped by Mackenzie's place before I set out to track you. I spoke to her," he explained. "She said she sometimes felt like she was being watched, so I searched and found your tracks in the trees out behind the house."

Giles suddenly recalled the memory, more emotion than clear thought. He'd watched her mournfully from afar. He recalled the deep longing he felt, wanting to be with his mate, who would soon be heavy with his cub. She was so close and yet a world away. Giles spoke again, quietly this time. "I'm afraid I'll hurt them. I feel it so strongly sometimes... that rage...."

"I know," Ryan replied. He said it with dark certainty. "It's the same for me. For all of us. You know this. We all struggle with control. It's why we train the way we do. It's why we form packs and alliances. We control the wolf. It does not control us."

Giles shook his head. "You know my family's history, who I'm descended from. I'm sure my sister told you about our father. What if that's just a part of who I am? I already screwed things up once with Macks. I can't risk doing that again."

"Yeah, I asked how you were before you disappeared. She told me about you trying to scare her off. This was in private, by the way. Her parents didn't hear that part." Ryan grimly assessed the other man. He then shrugged. "So you made a mistake. Make it up to her. I think she'll forgive you. And might I remind you, we share ancestors."

Giles looked at him, bemused. "We do?"

"I thought you knew," the man answered. "We have the same great-great-grandfather. Or something like that."

Giles shook his head and filed this information away. "I didn't know."

"My father may not have beaten me," Ryan added, "but he sure as hell wasn't easy to live with. He took a belt to my backside more times than I can remember. I was never good enough for him."

"Are all werewolves just assholes?" Giles listened, his attention on the dwindling amount of coffee in his cup.

Ryan raised one eyebrow and looked sidelong at Giles. "You think I am? I'm just an asshole to you. I love my family. I'll never make my kid feel like he's not good enough."

Giles silently considered this. He leaned over and collected the fire poker from where it leaned against the cooking frame, then used it to turn one log. "Is he a wolf? I forgot to ask."

Ryan refilled his coffee. "Yeah, thanks for the congratulations on my child's birth, by the way. And no, he's not. Doesn't matter to me that he isn't."

Giles wrapped the blanket tighter. "I was... there was a lot going on. And I didn't think you'd care to hear from me anyway. Congratulations. I am happy for you. Sorry I didn't say so sooner."

"You had a lot going on," Ryan echoed derisively, his grin pulled up on one side. "More like you were too busy boning a hot little redhead to think of anything else. Your mate has a body that could set a man on fire. There's no way you only hit that once." He raised his coffee to his lips, then stopped and squinted his eyes. "Now that I think about it, I think you were already hitting that when we grilled you about it at the pack meeting."

Giles shot Ryan an offended look but also tried hard not to smile. He sidestepped the last comment. "She's beautiful."

"She's a good woman." Ryan remarked. "She'll be a great mother. The only way you could fail her is by not being there for her. She needs you. Your kid needs you. Don't let them down. They deserve better than that." He waved his hand, gesturing at the expanse of wilderness that surrounded them. "Or you could stay out here forever and spend the rest of your sorry existence in self-pity."

Giles pictured Macks with a baby in her arms. He pictured her raising a child without him. He thought of never seeing her again, of never seeing his child grow up. A sting of remorse stabbed through his chest. He realized now that being out here was insanity, that there was no way he could let her go through this all alone.

It was time to go home.

Seeing the change in his expression, Ryan grabbed a dufflebag and tossed it to Giles. "Your clothes."

Giles murmured a thanks and took the bag. He sighed. "There's just one problem. Her father is still pretty pissed at me. Not that I blame him."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Who do you think asked me to find you?"

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Mack laid on her side on the bed. An old paperback that had once belonged to her grandmother – a guide to local birds – held her focus. Ordinary facts and numbers helped her remain grounded.

She heard a door open downstairs and people talking. Probably Ryan returning. Mack hugged her pillow a little tighter. She should go downstairs and learn what he found, if anything. She couldn't. She didn't want to know. Once she knew for certain Giles was never returning, or worse, if something happened to him....

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, soft and heavy, too heavy to be her father's. The door to her room opened. A large, familiar figure filled her doorway.

"Giles!" Mack sat up in astonishment.

He sat down on the bed and wrapped his arms around her. Mack held on tight. Before she could say anything, Giles whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Mack kissed him sweetly, just pressing her lips to his, while she held on to his stubbled cheeks. Giles returned the kiss with equal affection, then peppered more kisses all over her face and neck. Mack closed her eyes and laughed with relief through a few tears.

Giles held her close. "I love you so much. You're everything to me. I know I'm not – "

He said it. He said the words. A few more tears fell. The words thrilled her, sending a glow through her chest that warmed her to her very center. She shushed him with more kisses and squeezed her arms around his waist. "I love you, Giles."

She loved him. Giles smiled at finally hearing her say it. The words lightened his heart. This was what he'd never realized he wanted. This was what completed him, what made his life make sense. "Are you sure you still want me after the way I acted?"

"Do you plan on doing that again?" Mack asked with a faint smile, knowing what the answer would be. "Wolfing out on me, running away?"

Giles shook his head. He held her chin with thumb and forefinger as he gazed into her eyes. "Never. I'm yours for as long as you want me."

She smiled at him with trust shining in her eyes. Giles was there for her, just as he always had been, just as he always would be.

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They married simply, just an exchange of oaths and a legal signing, which suited Mackenzie and Giles just fine. More important to him – to both of them – was claiming his mate in the eyes of the pack. Soon, when the snows began to melt and the first pack meeting of the year took place, he would make it official.

There was no way around the awkwardness of the next several months. Mack had insisted she'd be fine living with Giles at his cabin. Her mother had pointed out that a pregnant woman would be much more comfortable with indoor plumbing and central heating. Giles, unwilling to leave Mack's side, ended up making her room into their room. Giles and Carson spoke only a little to one another, both of them finding excuses to leave the room when the other was around, but they were civil. After a time, Mackenzie even noticed occasional flashes of their old friendship, sometimes in an exchange of words or a shared laugh. These things gave her hope that her father would soon forgive Giles.

On days when the weather wasn't so bad, Giles and Mack escaped to his place for time alone. Their lovemaking became gentler for a while, all soft movements and tender touches under the blankets that enveloped them in warmth against the snow outside. Giles also became completely fascinated by her growing belly. His favorite moments were when the two of them just sprawled out together on the bed. He could run his hands over her bare skin and feel the tiny movements of his child within. He planted warm kisses over the swell of her stomach and spoke softly to the young one on the way, telling him or her about all the things they would experience when they finally arrived.

Mack treasured these moments just as much. She thought she couldn't fall more in love with him than she already had. She was wrong.

The following May turned out to be milder than usual. The skies cleared and the sun warmed everything it touched. When it came time for the final stages of Mackenzie's labor, Giles sat behind her on the hospital bed, supporting her back against his chest. She crushed his fingers in a solid grip as he whispered words of encouragement in her ear.

Later, when he held his child in his arms, he suddenly understood that all of his fears had been for nothing. The new life he held in his arms was so tiny, so delicate. He knew there was no way he could ever see this little thing come to harm. He would protect her from anything, as some day she would protect others.

Their daughter, Miranda, was born in the caul. While this was no guarantee that she would be a werewolf, the odds were in favor.

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On their first day home from the hospital, Giles sat in his favorite spot on the back porch of the Innes home. Well, now his home too. Mackenzie and his new daughter napped upstairs, both of them curled on one side and facing each other, mother on the bed, baby in a bassinet. When he'd left them, Macks had her hand in Miranda's bed, so that her tiny hand could keep hold of her mother's finger in a strong grip.

He smiled to himself and took a deep, relieved breath. The storm had passed and he'd made it through to the calm on the other side. He wondered at the man he used to be, miserable and withdrawn, getting through each day with smiles he didn't truly feel. Macks had been right. She needed him. And he needed her just as much.

Carson wordlessly joined him on the porch, sitting down next to him with a beer in each hand. While still keeping his gaze on the trees beyond, he passed one bottle to Giles.

Giles accepted it with silent thanks. He twisted the top off and took a sip. The two of them had been friends for so many years that there was no need to say anything. He immediately felt the warmth of their old kinship return.

"You love her," Carson observed, then glanced at his friend. "I mean, I knew this, but I didn't really understand until yesterday. I watched you hold her hand. The way you looked at her..."

"I love her more than I ever thought possible," Giles answered quietly.