watching from the house.
Anya looked down the scope one last time. Across the distance, his eyes captured hers, and she blinked to break the contact.
Wriggling backward on her stomach, she stayed low until she reached the cover of the dense trees. She came up on her knees, glanced back over her shoulder, and knew that he had sensed her movement. He stared straight at the spot she’d been hidden, a fierce grin spreading across his face.
He spoke briefly into a cell phone then started to strip off his clothes.
What the hell was he doing?
She knelt transfixed as he tore off his shirt and tossed it to the ground. His skin was golden, sleek muscle over bone, broad shoulders, and lean almost concave belly. His hand went to the belt at his waist, and Anya scrambled to her feet and ran. She raced through the forest, weaving between the huge gnarled oak trees, her boots making no sound on the soft ground. Branches snatched at her clothes, scratching the exposed skin of her face, and still she ran.
In the distance, an owl hooted and a wolf howled. Anya lost her concentration, stumbling over an exposed root. She righted herself as a second wolf answered. Flinging herself behind a tree, she leaned against the rough bark. Panic flared, and she pushed it down, forced her breath to slow, concentrating her mind.
There were no wolves in England, not outside of a zoo anyway. They must be using hounds to track her, but they sounded far away. She had time. She just needed to make it to the wall surrounding the property, and she’d be free.
She opened her mind. There were no people close, and some of the tension drained from her. Stepping forward, she peered into the thick darkness between the trees, trying to orientate herself. She realized she still clutched the rifle in her hand. She hefted it across one shoulder and crept through the forest.
Five minutes later, she stood beside the tall wall that ran around the entire perimeter of the compound. She reached out to touch the rough stone, a sigh escaping her lungs. Now she was safe, she could admit how rattled she’d felt. The night had not gone well, and her handlers would not be pleased. But there would be another chance.
She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and whirled around. Too late. A huge, grey object slammed into her. Dropping the rifle, she crashed to the ground and rolled, her hand going instinctively to the pistol at her waist. She came straight back on her feet, the pistol gripped in her hand, adrenaline surging through her veins. And she stopped.
Wolves surrounded her. For a moment, her mind refused to accept what she saw. Her fingers clenched around the gun, searching for a target, but they were all around. Her eyes darted everywhere, hunting for an escape. She had a full clip in her gun. She could still get out of here.
A silver wolf stepped forward from the pack and padded toward her, tail held low, muzzle peeled back in a snarl that revealed razor sharp canines.
Raising her pistol, Anya stared into its face. In that instant, she recognized the flash of humanity in the dark blue eyes. Shock ripped through her, and she hesitated. She could have shot a man with ease, but not this wild, beautiful creature. She released her breath and lowered the pistol to her side in defeat.
Something hit her from the side. She fell back, her head cracked against the stone wall, and the darkness swallowed her.
About the Author
Nina Croft grew up in the north of England. After training as an accountant, she spent four years working as a volunteer in Zambia, which left her with a love of the sun and a dislike of 9-5 work. She then spent a number of years mixing travel (whenever possible) with work (whenever necessary) but has now settled down to a life of writing and picking almonds on a remote farm in the mountains of southern Spain. Nina’s writing mixes romance with elements of the paranormal and science fiction.
http://www.ninacroft.com
Anya looked down the scope one last time. Across the distance, his eyes captured hers, and she blinked to break the contact.
Wriggling backward on her stomach, she stayed low until she reached the cover of the dense trees. She came up on her knees, glanced back over her shoulder, and knew that he had sensed her movement. He stared straight at the spot she’d been hidden, a fierce grin spreading across his face.
He spoke briefly into a cell phone then started to strip off his clothes.
What the hell was he doing?
She knelt transfixed as he tore off his shirt and tossed it to the ground. His skin was golden, sleek muscle over bone, broad shoulders, and lean almost concave belly. His hand went to the belt at his waist, and Anya scrambled to her feet and ran. She raced through the forest, weaving between the huge gnarled oak trees, her boots making no sound on the soft ground. Branches snatched at her clothes, scratching the exposed skin of her face, and still she ran.
In the distance, an owl hooted and a wolf howled. Anya lost her concentration, stumbling over an exposed root. She righted herself as a second wolf answered. Flinging herself behind a tree, she leaned against the rough bark. Panic flared, and she pushed it down, forced her breath to slow, concentrating her mind.
There were no wolves in England, not outside of a zoo anyway. They must be using hounds to track her, but they sounded far away. She had time. She just needed to make it to the wall surrounding the property, and she’d be free.
She opened her mind. There were no people close, and some of the tension drained from her. Stepping forward, she peered into the thick darkness between the trees, trying to orientate herself. She realized she still clutched the rifle in her hand. She hefted it across one shoulder and crept through the forest.
Five minutes later, she stood beside the tall wall that ran around the entire perimeter of the compound. She reached out to touch the rough stone, a sigh escaping her lungs. Now she was safe, she could admit how rattled she’d felt. The night had not gone well, and her handlers would not be pleased. But there would be another chance.
She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and whirled around. Too late. A huge, grey object slammed into her. Dropping the rifle, she crashed to the ground and rolled, her hand going instinctively to the pistol at her waist. She came straight back on her feet, the pistol gripped in her hand, adrenaline surging through her veins. And she stopped.
Wolves surrounded her. For a moment, her mind refused to accept what she saw. Her fingers clenched around the gun, searching for a target, but they were all around. Her eyes darted everywhere, hunting for an escape. She had a full clip in her gun. She could still get out of here.
A silver wolf stepped forward from the pack and padded toward her, tail held low, muzzle peeled back in a snarl that revealed razor sharp canines.
Raising her pistol, Anya stared into its face. In that instant, she recognized the flash of humanity in the dark blue eyes. Shock ripped through her, and she hesitated. She could have shot a man with ease, but not this wild, beautiful creature. She released her breath and lowered the pistol to her side in defeat.
Something hit her from the side. She fell back, her head cracked against the stone wall, and the darkness swallowed her.
About the Author
Nina Croft grew up in the north of England. After training as an accountant, she spent four years working as a volunteer in Zambia, which left her with a love of the sun and a dislike of 9-5 work. She then spent a number of years mixing travel (whenever possible) with work (whenever necessary) but has now settled down to a life of writing and picking almonds on a remote farm in the mountains of southern Spain. Nina’s writing mixes romance with elements of the paranormal and science fiction.
http://www.ninacroft.com
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