Scent of Salvation

Chapter Twenty-Seven

After two hours of hiking, the mountains still soared ahead of Susan and did not appear any closer. When she had ridden Sorin to the Apisi den, it hadn’t seemed to take that long from the Temple.

Had she taken the wrong path? She walked along the river. There should have been a turnoff, one going to the den, the other to the mountain, yet she couldn’t find either. The trails didn’t have any visible signs she could follow. They probably were marked by scent. Everything in shifter life revolved around their noses.

She kicked a rock. It bounced off a tree trunk then plopped in the river. Sunlight no longer sparkled over the surface. Pursing her lips, she eyed the dark clouds in the sky. They hadn’t been there when she left the den.

Cold tentacles of fear crept up her spine. Glancing around, she couldn’t spot any shelter to hide under. She was lost in the woods with a storm approaching. Maybe Sorin would send someone from the pack to look for her. What if he came? Her gut clenched. What would she tell him? She had feelings for him and panicked? That might work. Nothing like telling a male she might be falling in love to make him run.

What if nobody came? She shivered, though no breeze stirred the leaves in its wake. From lack of choices, she continued walking.

A great big new world lay ahead of her to explore. The Disney World for scientists. She’d already considered spending the remainder of her life cataloguing Eorthe’s species, experiencing odd traditions, and witnessing new rituals. She sighed. Who would she share this information with? None of these things were new to the inhabitants of this world.

She was the new thing.

And what had happened to all the humans? This tribe had never seen her kind but that shouldn’t mean they didn’t exist. She rubbed her arms to soothe her goose flesh. The vampire, Benic, had never seen a human either and he claimed to be well-traveled. She felt weak in this world, as vulnerable as a babe. Maybe all the other humans had hidden or been eaten?

She could spend the rest of her life pondering their fate. Answers would only be found by asking questions and investigating what had diverged their timelines so drastically.

The clawing fear gripped her tighter. When her ancestors had stepped out of the forest to build cities, thousands of years of evolution didn’t vanish overnight. Instinct still existed, and it told her something watched from beyond the trees. Scanning the forest, she didn’t see anything.

She was in deep shit. Ahote had mentioned traveling the forest in civil form was dangerous. Maybe other monsters roamed the area. Things she’d never heard of.

Sweat trickled along her temple. Run! Her adrenal glands screamed, and finally her brain heard them. The locks on her knees released and she spun around. Pumping her legs, she ran faster than she’d thought possible. The pace would kill her. She headed toward a tree with branches low enough to climb. Her body went from wanting to flee to wanting to hide.

With a leap fueled by panic, she grabbed the first branch and swung her legs up as if Jaws would chomp on them from the thick, leaf-covered ground. Out of breath, she scrambled from branch to branch until they grew too thin to support her.

Nothing moved.

Had she lost her freaking mind? She’d watched way too many horror films. Catching her breath, she stared at the ground, which appeared way too far below. She tried to swallow but her throat went dry. She would have drunk pond water to quench her thirst.

What next, genius? She wouldn’t make it to the Temple any quicker trapped in a tree, jumping at shadows. Resting her head against the trunk, she closed her eyes. She had to get it together. Rain clouds were gathering, and she didn’t want to be stuck outside in a storm by herself.

But she sensed something out there. Her body might class a shifter as a predator. Could it have been Sorin? Her heart sank. Half of her wanted him to rescue her. The other half was horrified by the idea. She’d run away for a reason. She sniffed and wiped a tear away. If she cried for help, it would only confirm how much of a dunderhead she’d become since meeting him.

Future copies of Eorthe dictionaries would contain a picture of her under the definition of pathetic. Parents would show their pups and tell them not to be a Susan.

The bushes below rustled.

All the muscles in her back contracted. Her bones creaked under the tension. She could barely breathe.

Under the tree, a large, feline-like animal crept by. From her angle and poor experience, she guessed it could be a lion or a saber-tooth tiger. Anything was possible on this world, but it definitely wasn’t Sorin.

She clutched the trunk with both arms and tried to become one with it. Silence was key. It might not know where she was hiding.

The animal snorted as if hearing her thoughts and clawed the tree.

“Sorin.” Her voice rose as she cried out. The sound of his name traveled loud and clear in the quiet of the forest. Staring down at the big cat’s hungry face, she screamed again, a pure cavewoman sound. Lions climbed trees, right? She checked.

Yes, they did. “Sorin. Help me.” God, let him be searching for her. She climbed higher, into the branches too thin to support her. Every second branch broke while she scrambled to the top. A piercing howl shattered her ears. She couldn’t protect them with her hands since she clung for her life.

The tree lurched as if something heavy struck it, and she lost her footing. Hanging, she swung back and forth from the branch by one hand.

As if tossed like a bowling ball, the lion rolled across the forest floor.

The ground spun. She had a one-way ticket straight down, and she held her breath.

This would hurt.

Her weight cracked the branch. For a brief second she seemed buoyant, then gravity—the greedy bitch—grabbed hold and yanked her hard toward the forest floor. She struck and broke a branch across her side, which sent her rolling as she fell. Her hair snatched the little twigs and pulled at her roots, slowing her descent by a fraction. What truly helped was the last branch she hit full across her spine. It must have been thick because it didn’t snap. Instead she cracked, losing her breath, and she rolled once more to fall belly-flop style.

She landed on a thick bed of old, sticky leaves. Rolling on her side, she moaned in a terrible way and tried to make her lungs work.

The cat could finish her off now. She doubted she’d feel the pain.

Two different types of growls surrounded her. She blinked to clear her vision. A silver-gray mass approached her. Sorin? A flood of relief helped her breathe once more.

Sorin snarled at the mountain lion. He bared his claws and canines so it could see what it was fighting.

Susan lay limp on the bed of leaves behind him, making horrid noises. He feared they’d be her last. Humans were so delicate in comparison to shifters. Who knew what a fall like that would do to her?

Twisted with worry, he couldn’t keep from glancing at her. If she made noise that meant she could breathe. He kept repeating this in his head as he tried to focus on the animal threat.

It hissed while pacing back and forth.

The lion was off its territory. They usually hunted on the southern range. Prey must be scarce for the predator to wander this close to his den.

He rose on his hind legs, looming over it, and roared his response.

Crouching in submission, it retreated. The branches of the brush whipped back in the lion’s passing.

In a different situation, he would have chased it off his land, but the animal’s footfalls faded in the distance. Kneeling on the ground next to Susan, he ran his hands over her limbs. Everything appeared intact. “Where does it hurt?” His voice shook as he spoke.

She swallowed and coughed. “Everywhere.” She moved as if to sit, and he supported her body with his.

“I feel like I fell out of a tree.” She chuckled.

A tight knot released in his gut. He buried his face in her leaf-tangled hair. That she could laugh was an excellent sign. “We shouldn’t stay here. A storm is brewing.”

She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “I’m so glad you came for me.”

Warmth spread through his body at her declaration. He pulled her closer. “Don’t ever leave the den by yourself again.”

Thunder rolled in the distance and he searched the sky, trying to gauge how much time they had. “Come.” He helped her stand. “Ride on my back.” He twisted so she could climb aboard. They were making a habit of this. Next thing he knew, she’d want a saddle.

“Sorry, my knees don’t want to work yet.” She leaned her head on his shoulder.

With his thumb under her chin, he tilted her face toward his. “Are you strong enough to ride?”

“Yeah, I just needed to catch my breath.” As she scaled the fur on his back he could sense her wince with each move.

The wind grew stronger and the scent of rain heavier. He would need to run to beat the storm. After taking a few steps, he stopped. Sharp pain traveled into his skin from Susan pulling his fur in a death grip. “Susan?”

“I can’t ride. My back is too sore to hold on properly.” She slipped off and landed in a puddle on the ground. “Sorry, we’re going to get wet.”

Fat raindrops fell from the sky, landing in scattered patterns. It wouldn’t be long before the torrents started. “There’s a cave not far from here. We’ll shelter there for the night.” He scooped her in his arms before she could protest and trotted. If only he could carry her like this back to the den, but his feral form wasn’t designed for long-distance, bipedal runs.

“I can walk if it’s not too far, you know.”

“Carrying you is quicker.” He glanced at her. “And I like it.”

She sighed a quiet sound, which she couldn’t hide from his keen hearing.

They had much to discuss. First, he’d provide shelter and protection, then he’d find out exactly why she ran. Worry clung to him on their journey to the cave, a familiar emotion since he killed his father and became alpha, yet this time the source of his distress was too unpredictable to figure out. There had been too many misunderstandings between them for him to make assumptions.

He stopped by some old, dry brush left leaning against a hill. Setting Susan on her feet, he steadied her before removing a pile of dead branches to reveal a hidden entrance. “It’s a winter hunting cave. We keep it supplied in case of emergencies or poor weather.”

“I’m fine, Sorin.” She rolled her eyes. “Really, I’m just being a wimp. I can hang—” Thunder crashed overhead and she jumped against him. “Never mind, the cave sounds good.”

He pointed to the ground where she stood. “Stay here.” If she wandered off again, he’d start tying her down. Crouched on all fours, he stuck his head through the small entrance. Just inside was a wooden door well-crafted to fit the narrow tunnel. It kept the vermin from their stores. Crawling, he went through the tunnel and found a lantern. Susan needed light to see.

Delicate fingers threaded through his fur. “Is it okay for me to come in?”

The unexpected touch sent a jolt through his spine. He’d been so focused on lighting the wick he hadn’t heard Susan crawl in. “Don’t you ever do what you’re told?” He held up the lantern so the soft light would chase the shadows away.

She withdrew her hand. “Not unless it makes sense. I didn’t hear any struggling inside, and the rain is worse. I can think for myself.”

The cave was too small for him to stand in feral form. He shifted. “Are you considered an alpha among humans?”

“Sort of. Depends on your definition.” She tracked her gaze over his body.

He’d never been so aware of his nudity so he grabbed a blanket off a pallet by the cave’s wall and wrapped it around his waist. She didn’t need to know how easily she triggered his arousal.