Page 18 of Bred By the Beast

“Wilder?”

There was no sign of him and she couldn’t hear anything but nature. The sky was darkening and soon evening would settle in. Already streaks of pink could be seen behind the tree line, peeking through the lacey network of leaves. The world around her was stunning but terrifying. Almost like Wilder himself. She was desperately attracted to him but there was something darker under the surface that unsettled her.

She started to wander along the beaten paths. He always kept to the same routes to preserve nature, so he had to have gone this way.

“Wilder?”

She slowed as she neared the dense wall of forest, darkness concealing whatever dwelled within. Poppy wasn’t that brave. She remembered the cub and was relieved Wilder rehomed him, but how did he do that? He said he’d found a home for it, but what did that even mean? She kept accepting what he said without questioning him further. Did he find a bear family? How could that go over well? A rehabilitator? There were definitely no neighbors within hiking distance. That same wave of nerves made her uneasy.

She wanted to ignore her instincts because on the surface everything was perfect. More than perfect, and she didn’t want to ruin that.

Poppy had been so engaged in her own thoughts that she hadn’t noticed she wasn’t alone. Some of the leaf litter crunched, and she turned to see a wolf hunched low, teeth bared. When she turned to look the other way, she realized she was already surrounded. There had barely been a sound. The ultimate predators.

She started taking slow, small steps backward, away from the forest. Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard it was deafening in her own ears. How long until they moved in? Ripped her to shreds? She couldn’t even scream. Her voice had completely stopped working. So much for her beautiful paradise. Humans and nature couldn’t mix.

Hot tears traced down her cheeks, born from fear and desperation. Then there was a new noise, heavier steps coming from within the forest. The wolves stopped growling, turning to face whatever was approaching.

It was him. Wilder.

He had an axe over one shoulder, wearing his familiar red plaid jacket that smelled like him—campfires and cedar. She nearly melted in relief, but even an axe wouldn’t be enough against a pack of wolves.

“Wilder,” she whispered. “They’re everywhere.” She tried not to move a muscle.

He didn’t stop walking, not even a pause to assess the situation. Wilder came straight to her and pulled her into his arms, holding her against his heat like they were in some kind of romance movie. She closed her eyes and cried into his jacket.

“You’re safe, Poppy.”

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and looked up at him. There was no fear in his dark eyes. She looked to the side, then the other side, finally stepping away from him and doing a full circle as she tried to catch sight of the wolves.

“Where did they go? You saw them, right?”

“They’re gone. Flighty things.”

“What? No, they were ready to kill me. What did you do?” she demanded.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, Poppy. Animals are unpredictable.”

They held hands as they walked back to the cabin because she was still uneasy, but now had even more questions.

“Don’t you ever get scared? Are you even human? I mean, there are wolves and bears living right next to your house.”

“We have an understanding.”

She wanted to scream. This wasn’t normal. Or was it?

“Why were you out there, anyway?”

This time he stopped. He held both her shoulders. “Something tripped one of my cameras,” he said. “I found boot marks.”

She swore she’d hyperventilate, but he squeezed her shoulders a bit to ground her.

“They’ve found me! Those poachers. Oh my God. Do you think they’re watching us right now?”

“The house is secure. I’ll figure things out and keep you safe.”

This couldn’t be happening. Maybe there was a logical explanation.

“Maybe it was a hiker?” she asked.