Josie

© Lora Darling



It was the unbearable itching that roused Josie from her deep slumber. It burned across her back and clawed at her flesh, as if making the attempt to touch her bones. She moaned and rolled over. The damp earth seeped into the thin cotton of her t-shirt and the discomfort finally gave her the strength to open her eyes. Where was she? Blinking against the sparkle of stars above her, she shifted her head to the side and saw a familiar length of gold fur over muscle. Reaching out, she stroked her fingers through the soft bristles expecting to feel the steady rise and fall of breath, or at the very least, a low growling rumble of pleasure.

She felt and heard nothing.

“Michael?” Her voice rang out across the still, silent night, bouncing off some unseen obstacle before crashing back into her ears. Not caring who or what heard her, she continued to caress the furred back of the magnificent beast lying at her side, but none of her strokes garnered any type of response. Real fear pushed her onto her elbows and she leaned close enough to bury her nose in the scent of wolf.

“Michael, can you hear me?” She whispered this time, knowing in her heart of hearts that her words, no matter how loud, would not be heard.

Josie snatched her hand away just in time to catch the sob that tore from her lips. The sight of Michael’s lifeless body brought back all the horrific memories of the last few hours: the fear, the flight, the horrible sound of gunshots, the pain. Her survival instincts screamed at her to get off her ass and find a place to hide, now. What if the hunters came back?

What if they weren’t satisfied with only one kill?

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