Lost Wilderness. a resistance story

Lost Wilderness. a resistance story

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Jul 27, 2012
Prickles was hiding under the yew bush, surrounded by trees in front of the clearing that the pack lived in. He was lucky his dirt brown fur blended in perfectly with the soil around him. And his black eyes looked like the little berries that sprouted in the bush next to him. I will never find a mate, Prickles thought, I’m too ugly. He watched as Bramble, the leader of the pack, walked into the forest by himself. Prickles recalled the day when Bramble banished Prickles mother, sister and Prickles himself from the pack. He cringed at the thought of it. It was snowing and Prickles had no way of defending himself as he was hauled out of the camp. Now, seven years later, Prickles is back and knows what to do about the big creatures invading the foxes’ territory.
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"Blood." we make out a figure in a white coat lying on its side, facing away from us. The ground is stained a dark shade of red. I crouch down, pushing them onto their back. Starting down in shock it's a girl. Her eyes shoot open and meet, and my wolf howls in my head, "Mine," I can barely whisper as I look over her body and recognize the dire state she's in. I pull her into my arms as her eyes flutter closed and I run faster than I ever have. ~~~ "What happened out there?" "I don't remember." She looked dazed. She turned to face me "I don't know my name. I don't remember it. I don't remember anything." ~~~ She doesn't know who she is. But she's his-and someone wants her gone. When Alpha Alexei finds a woman bleeding out in the woods, instinct tells him she's more than just a stranger-she's his mate. But she wakes with no memory, haunted by nightmares and a darkness she can't explain. She's guarded, dangerous, and utterly alone. He's protective, powerful, and bound to her by something she doesn't understand. As their connection deepens, so does the mystery surrounding her past. And in a world full of secrets, one thing is certain: Some bonds are written in blood-and some pasts refuse to stay buried.

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