Spirit of the Wolf by Vonna Harper

started rocking. “That’s how it felt like anyway. Like they were daring me to try to get away.”
    How terrifying that must have been. When the time was right, she’d encourage Beale to get professional counseling for help in dealing with the trauma. The thought that Matt had been acting like a wild animal himself while Beale was fighting for his life made her sick to her stomach.
    Couldn’t be. Matt couldn’t have possibly sensed what was going on and fed off it.
    Shaken, she forced herself to concentrate on what Beale was saying. The wolves had closed in on him as if they had all the time in the world to do what they intended to. His horse had risked broken legs trying to get away, but much as Beale wanted to unhobble him and set him free, he didn’t dare take his attention off the pack.
    “Their eyes—I hope I never see anything like that again. All yellow and glowing. They hated me.”
    “Hated?” Cat and Matt said at the same time.
    Beale stared at his ruined jeans on the floor. “That’s what it felt like. Like they didn’t see me as meat so much as something they had it in for. I didn’t try to run. Maybe it would have made a difference if I had, but I was scared that would prompt them to attack.” He swallowed. “They did anyway.”
    “Matt,” Cat said when she found her voice. “We need to call law enforcement.”
    He grunted. “I did on the way here. I’m surprised they didn’t beat us.”
    Relieved that had occurred to Matt when she’d been wondering if part of his mind had turned off, she took the gauze from Matt and, kneeling again, went back to tending to Beale’s wounds. Someday she wanted to have children. Right now she felt like Beale’s mother. She couldn’t make the bogeyman nightmare go away, but she was determined to comfort him to the best of her ability.
    Beale was explaining that, although the wolves remained around after the attack, he’d managed to crawl over to his horse when the sound of approaching vehicles caught their collective attention.
    Matt’s features tightened. “I’ll get them,” he muttered.
    Watching Matt’s retreating back as he left, Cat again tried to make sense of the way he was acting. She couldn’t blame him for wishing none of this was happening—she certainly did—but was it that simple? Maybe, like her, he was trying to make sense of the wolves’ behavior. As Beale had explained, the pack hadn’t seemed to be interested in killing him, as one after the other bit his legs and clawed his upper body. It was more like they’d decided to play with him, had seen him as a hapless victim.
    Or something else.
    As Sheriff Wilton and a middle-aged man wearing a Fish and Wildlife uniform entered the bathroom later, she tucked the crazy thought into a corner of her mind. Still she couldn’t completely silence the possibility that the wolves had wanted to make an example of Beale. Not kill him because then he couldn’t tell anyone about what they’d done to him, about the hatred in their eyes.
    Either having the others in the room helped remind Beale that he was indeed safe, or shock no longer gripped him as tightly as it had at first. Sensing tension ease out of him helped Cat relax a bit herself.
    Once she and Matt had finished tending to Beale’s wounds, they all went into the living room. Fortunately, Beale didn’t appear concerned over his lack of clothing; the idea of him trying to pull jeans over his injuries made her wince. After sitting in the recliner and letting Matt put up the footrest, Beale told the newcomers what he’d already told her and Matt, adding details she wished she didn’t have to hear.
    As he described how the wolves focused on one limb at a time while positioning themselves between him and his horse, she forced her attention off Beale and back onto Matt. His concern and consideration for his young employee was genuine. Listening to him reassure Beale that he’d done what he’d had to to protect his life when he left