“I hate camping. I am going to kick my cousins’ asses when they get back,” Dante muttered. “All right. We need to get out of here.”
Kaja turned back and looked at the tent where she’d learned about pleasure. Dante had made himself plain. He wished to use her for a while, but perhaps a bit of affection was better than none at all. She wasn’t ready to be done with him. She knew she should run on her own, but she couldn’t leave him just yet.
“Cara!” Rhys could be heard calling for his wife. His voice had taken on a desperate wail.
All manner of creatures were running for the forest now. They bumped against her in their frantic flight from the ogre.
“Cara!”
The ground beneath Kaja’s feet shook.
“He’s coming this way.” Dante started to lead her out. “We’re going to have to make a run for it. Meg, can you keep up? I don’t want to explain to your husbands why I lost you to an ogre who seems to be practicing his left-handed slider.”
Meg seemed to steel herself. “I’ll keep up. You won’t lose me that easily.”
Dante’s hand squeezed Kaja’s, tightening as though he was afraid to let go. “Stay together. Kaja’s right. We only really have to be faster than the gnomes. They’re short. The ogre should catch a bunch of them, and while he’s eating his appetizers, the main course will be fleeing as fast as our feet can take us.”
Kaja got ready to run, but a thin wail broke through the chaos around her.
“Cara, no! No!”
Kaja turned and saw the small blonde gnome who had been so kind to her. She was trying to get away from the ogre. She was running down the road toward them, but Kaja could see plainly that she would not make it. Her legs were too short. She wasn’t quick. The ogre roared and stamped his foot. It looked to be roughly the size of Cara’s whole body. He would crush her beneath that foot.
Dante’s hand tugged insistently at hers. “Kaja, let’s go.”
In her pack, the weak were allowed to fall. They were considered an insult to the pack. If a wolf fell, it was because they were not strong enough, not worthy.
But the strong wolves of her pack were the same ones who spit on her. They were the same ones who tossed her out. Cara was not strong. She had no fangs or claws. She could not change. The gnome would be a liability during the hunt. But Cara was the one who had held Kaja’s hand when the world had seemed filled with pain. She had brought her raw meat when it was so obvious to Kaja that Cara had been disgusted by it. Even as she’d tossed the raw meat in, Cara had begged her to eat. Cara had cared that she was hungry. She had shown Kaja true kindness. In the pack, kindness was considered weakness.
Kaja no longer believed in the pack.
With a single thought, Kaja changed. There was a moment of pain, but she’d come to almost enjoy it. That brief flaring of heat through her system brought with it a certain freedom. Her limbs shifted, joints popping into place in a quick change. Her hand became a slender paw that slipped easily from Dante’s hold. She fell from two legs to four.
“Kaja, what are you doing?” Dante seemed tall when she was in her two-legged form. Now, he truly towered over her. He looked down, indignation plain on his face.
Kaja barked. She didn’t have time to explain. He should run. This debt was hers and hers alone. Perhaps she could also provide the distraction required for Dante and Meg to get away.
Kaja turned and began to run toward Cara.
Dante felt his heart threaten to explode as Kaja sped away from him toward the really pissed-off, man-eating ogre.
What was wrong with her? Did she think that the ogre wouldn’t eat her when she was in wolf form? If she’d asked, Dante would have explained that the ogre would eat just about anything he could catch. And the ogre was definitely going to catch Kaja because she was running towards it.
“What just happened?” Meg asked. She had turned toward the ogre. She had to scream the words now because there was so much chaos around them.
“Kaja went insane.” Dante reached out to hold Meg. There was a crowd rushing toward them. Dante was getting pulled from Meg by the bodies running away. He watched as Kaja slipped nimbly in and out of the crowd.
He felt a growl start deep in his throat, and that ridiculous beast that had taken up in his body the minute he’d laid eyes on Kaja seemed to be clawing to get out. She wanted to run from him? He would show that wolf her place. She would be at his feet and begging for forgiveness before she could even scent the freedom she seemed to want. She belonged to him.
Only one thing kept him from immediately tearing after his wayward wife. He needed a place to stash Meg.
Meg held on to his hand for dear life. She used her free hand to point to a spot close to the tent where he and Kaja had spent the night. “It’s Cara. She’s going to try to save Cara.”
Dante pushed against the crowd. It was like swimming upstream. A troll with atrocious body odor nearly flattened Dante against a tent pole. He used a good portion of his strength to keep Meg close. He had mere seconds before Kaja made her way to the ogre.
The ogre. It was huge. It was strong. Perhaps Beck could handle the ogre, but it would be a battle. Kaja was tiny compared to that monster. What was Kaja thinking? The ogre’s only weakness was its utter stupidity and a Fae creature’s aversion to cold iron.
Cold iron.
“Meg, what does that gun of yours shoot?” Dante asked.
He’d played around with the gun. Meg had taken him out behind the barn and shown him how to use the weapon. He’d been quite good with it, or so she’d told him. He had a good eye and a steady hand. But did he now have the right ammunition?
Meg’s mouth dropped open as she seemed to reach the same conclusion as Dante. “After I taught Cian how to use the gun, he figured out how to make new bullets. The blacksmith forged them from cold iron. He thought it was the best way for me to protect myself if Torin attacked. I need to get a shot.”
Dante barely averted rolling his eyes at her. “You’re not going to do anything, sweetheart. It’s not like he’ll go down from one little bullet. You’ll just piss him off. He might be dumb, but he has spectacular survival instincts. The minute you start shooting, he’ll turn on you. I can’t risk that.”
He opened the flap to the tent they were close to and shoved her inside. “You have to stay here. I can’t take care of you and save Kaja. Please, Meg. I need you to give me the gun and promise me you’ll stay safe. I’m begging you.”
He was in an impossible situation. He owed Kaja his protection, whether or not she wanted it. But he was responsible for Meg, too. It wasn’t a position he was comfortable with. He’d spent his life without any kind of responsibility at all. Now two women who he cared about could die without him.
“I’ll stay here,” Meg said. She placed the gun in his hand. “But you can’t expect me to hide if you go down. I’ll stay out of sight until you need me.”
It was the best he was going to get. Dante steeled himself and began to push through the crowd. He could hear Kaja’s bark. She was on the edge of the throng, moving toward Cara. He began to shove people aside. The ogre was roaring, making the tents shake and the air smell fetid and rank. The big creature reached down and picked up a tent by the large pole that held the center up. He tossed it toward the field. There was a scream, this one smaller and weaker. Dante watched in horror as the ogre picked up a small brownie who had been hiding in the now defunct tent. He lifted the brownie’s delicate body and tossed it into his mouth. In a second, the brownie was gone, lost to the ogre’s never-ending hunger.