A Highland Wolf Christmas - Page 3/69

She pulled her cell out of her purse and called Julia, but she didn’t answer. Calla tried Cearnach’s number. He was Ian’s second oldest brother and the only other one in the MacNeill pack she had a number for, but no answer there, either. Fine. She texted both of them so they’d know approximately where she’d left the car, when, and the direction she’d taken to get to the castle.

If she ran as a wolf, she’d most likely get there before her anticipated arrival and no one would think she’d had car trouble in the meantime. Well, that and she’d told them she wasn’t coming until after she dropped her parents off at the airport, which had turned out to be a totally different time than expected.

She tried to open the door, but a wall of snow was wedged against it. She let her breath out in exasperation. She shoved, making a small gap between the door and the snowbank. She’d never make it out of the car that way. Damn it! She closed the door.

Climbing over the console, she peered out the passenger window. The snow was not quite as deep here. She shoved the door open, grabbed her blanket, and waded through the snow. The ditch was maybe three feet deep, with as much snow piled up in it, and she didn’t think she could get her car out on her own. Not to be deterred without at least trying, she placed the blanket against the back tires and then climbed back into the car. She gunned the engine again, but no matter how much gas she gave it, the car wasn’t budging.

She silently fumed, got back out of the car, and retrieved her blanket.

“This really sucks.”

Even though it would get dark soon, and the blinding snow would make it difficult to see, she could still find her way to Argent Castle using her enhanced wolf sense of smell. She wasn’t sitting here and waiting for a rescue.

Inside the car, she yanked off her wool coat and then realized she’d have to leave her purse, phone, and everything else behind… No, she’d use her wolf teeth to grab the strap of her waterproof field pack. That would slow her down even more, but it couldn’t be helped. Tucking her purse into the pack, she tossed everything she could live without into the backseat.

She quickly stripped out of the rest of her clothes, then grabbed her bag. Naked and hoping nobody would find her like this and think she was in some kind of confused, hypothermic state, she squeezed out through the narrow opening. Cold, cold, cold. Snow reached her thighs, and the upper part of her body was bare to the freezing wind. She slammed the door, hit the lock button, threw her keys in the bag’s side pocket, and zipped it up.

Dropping the bag in the snow, she called on the urge to shift. The chill of the snow against her feet and legs was bad enough, but the wind whipping the snow mixed with ice against her back and arms stung like icy needles. Internally, her body warmed as her muscles and bones reshaped into the wolf. As soon as her wolf’s double coat covered her skin, she sighed with relief. For a second, she shivered until her natural fur coat helped to warm her against the biting cold that had already chilled her to the bone.

Grabbing the bag with her teeth, she rethought taking it with her. It was heavier than she’d thought it would be. Carrying it over her shoulder was not the same as dragging it, clenched in her wolf teeth, through chest-deep snow.

She’d gone maybe a mile when she saw movement between a couple of fir trees and stopped dead in her tracks. She thought she saw the gray tail of a wolf. Was it one of the MacNeill clansmen in his wolf coat, coming to greet her? That seemed odd. Unless Cearnach or Julia had gotten her messages and had sent someone to find her. A MacNeill would have made his presence known, though, not lurked in the woods.

Something moved behind her, not just the branches blowing in the wind. She dropped her bag, the instinct to protect herself coming to bear, and swung around. Baird McKinley stood in the woods in his dark gray wolf form, along with his two brothers and cousin, also in their wolf forms. They had to have been waiting here for her. The deer must have caught wind of the wolves and panicked, fleeing the area and probably causing her accident—which infuriated her even more.

Baird watched her reaction before he made a move. He gave her an expression of appeal, like he still wanted to make up with her, his eyebrows arched, his eyes wide, not narrowed and threatening. Maybe he thought he’d have a better chance at convincing her in his wolf form.

Then again, she could imagine the four of them talking about her on the way here, suggesting ways to get her to capitulate, agreeing that he couldn’t let her slip into Argent Castle without one last-ditch effort to appeal to her.

Heart pounding, she knew how nasty Baird could be with others in his pack when he didn’t get his way. And with her, he wasn’t getting his way. Just the fact that he’d been waiting for her to arrive—especially when he had a show of force instead of just trying to see her alone? Not good.

She turned, grabbed her bag, and took off running through the virgin snow. She couldn’t make good headway while dragging her field pack. But if she dropped it so she could move faster, they could get all her stuff, including the keys to her car if they wanted to steal it. Damn, damn, damn.

That brought the memories flooding back of Baird’s kin stealing Cearnach MacNeill’s and his mate’s cars and other belongings, and stranding them in wolf form—at Baird’s direction. That was why she had dumped Baird’s butt at the altar in the first place.

Baird bolted in front of her and snarled and snapped, forcing her to lunge around to his right flank. She would have bitten him if her teeth hadn’t been clenched around the strap to her bag. His kin quickly surrounded her and she stopped dead. She watched Baird, her heart beating furiously against her ribs. Her gaze met his.

His brown eyes were hopeful that she’d give in. That she’d want to come back to him. So she was certain he wouldn’t attack. The other wolves continued to flank her, not allowing her to move in any direction. Their panting breaths appeared as frosty mist, carried away in the blowing wind. They waited for her to give in or bolt.

She wasn’t going with Baird, and she wasn’t standing here all day in the freezing cold, even though her wolf coat kept her warm. She had a meal and friends waiting for her at Argent Castle. Hating to, she let go of her pack.

All eyes were on her, all ears perked up, as the wolves watched to see what her next move would be. Wolves were good at reading the slightest body movements. So they would know exactly what she was going to do next as soon as she lifted her chin. She didn’t have much of a choice.