Page 29 of Wolf's Redemption

He moved to crouch down in front of her. “I am sorry, but I must hunt us some food and I need to know you will be here when I return.”

She stared at him, her mouth agape and her brown eyes stormy. “You could have justaskedme to stay.”

“Mm. Perhaps. But you have run from me once already, Rebekah. I will not be trusting you again so easily.”

He retrieved the wineskin of mead and dropped it into her lap, before striding from the clearing and into the trees.

“What if I need the bathroom?” she called after him.

Bath room?She wanted to bathe?Now? He shook his head and kept walking.

“What if I need to pee?”

“Pee?”

“Pee. You know…wee. Visit the little girls’ room, void my bladder, urinate.”

Nowthathe understood. “Then do not drink all the mead and you should have no need to relieve yourself.” He grinned at her disgusted huff behind him. “If the urge overcomes you, cross your legs. I will not be long.”

A rock bounced harmlessly beside him in the forest. He chuckled, but did not turn back, the echo of her curses a delight to his ears. Not so long ago, he had marveled at the way Gaharet had interacted with Erin. How his alpha had found amusement in Erin’s spirit. Erin was brave and strong minded, but Rebekah was all fire. At a particularly vile curse, he chuckled again. Ulrik could not resist poking the embers.

“Keep quiet,petite cracheuse de feu.We are not the only ones in the forest.”

A sharp intake of breath, silence, then a muttered curse, much quieter this time. He suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. He would not be leaving her alone had his senses not told him there were no humans for leagues, save for her. No predators, but for him. He had not scented that wolf, unknown to him and yet so familiar, since that morning, but he would stay close all the same.

“What the hell does that even mean? Pettie crashooze de fer?” she muttered. “Humph. Go hunting then. Bring back food. I’ll just wait here. Bloody Neanderthal. Next thing I know, he’ll try to drag me about by my hair.”

Ulrik’s smile slipped, heat hitting with the force of a boulder slung from a trebuchet. He compelled himself to keep walking, the image of his hand fisted in her hair as he took her from behind almost enough to make him turn around.

With a concerted effort, he focused his attention to the task at hand. Stopping by a dense gorse shrub, he unbuckled his sword and slipped out of his boots and clothes. He had toforce his breeches past his semi-erect cock, and it tested his determination to go hunting, to not turn around and stalk Rebekah instead of food.

Ulrik gritted his teeth and tucked his belongings beneath the shrub. He could not afford to waste time. He may have secured her well, but he would not underestimate her ingenuity. Ignoring his burgeoning erection, he allowed the change to flow through him. On large paws, he trotted away to hunt.

* * * *

He’dtiedher to atree. Bek fumed. That was why he’d grabbed the rope. He’d planned this all along, right from the moment they’d stood in that hut. While she’d been half naked in front of him and vulnerable. After she’d agreed to go along with him. Willingly.

Bek glared into the trees in the direction he’d departed. She’d followed him, kept pace with him in her stolen clothes, not once complaining about the rub of boots a size too big. She’d sat with him in companionable silence while they’d stopped for a break. They’d shared bread and wine, for Christ’s sake. Hadn’t that proved anything to him? That she was no longer a flight risk. That she’d decided to throw her lot in with him and hope for the best.

She tugged at the rope, a braid of woven fibers he’d tied firmly about her waist and the large tree she’d rested against. She eyed the wineskin in her lap. It would serve him right if she drank it all. As tempting as that was, she left the stopper in. Bek didn’t want to have to pee before he came back. And she needed her wits about her. At the very least, so he didn’t get the jump on her again. Not to mention whatever else was out there in the forest.

As if to confirm her concerns, a wolf howled in the distance. The mournful sound echoed before trailing off into silence. She shivered.Great. Just great. Her time in this century kept gettingbetter and better. She’d spelled herself back in time, wound up in some kind of dungeon in medieval France, narrowly avoided being assaulted by a lecherous guard and was kidnapped by a rogue chevalier. And kissed by a rogue chevalier.

Yeah, that bit wasn’t so bad.

She shook her head, banishing the memory. Now, as she was beginning to trust him, he’d left her alone. In afreakingforest. Tied to a damn tree. Unarmed. There was every possibility that a wolf would find her and want to eat her.Fucking wonderful.Good kiss, no, great kiss aside, medieval life sucked big, hairy balls. It made her life back home seem almost tame.

And that’s saying something.

The wolf howled again, snapping Bek out of her pity party. Was it closer? She couldn’t tell. She strained her ears and listened. Nothing. No more howls, no sounds of movement amongst the trees. Was that a good or a bad sign? Did it mean the wolf had moved on or that it was sneaking up on her?

Birds twittered in the canopy of trees. That was a good thing, right? The birds going on as usual. Either way, she wasn’t about to sit here, trussed up like a Christmas turkey, and wait to be devoured. She had to get herself untied.

The tree was too wide for her to reach the knot, but perhaps she could slip free of the rope. She wiggled against the binding and got the rope as far down as her hips, but no further. Scrambling in the dirt, she got her feet beneath her, hoping the leverage would be enough. She pushed up, her back scraping against rough bark and the rope biting into her hips. It wouldn’t budge. She gritted her teeth and pushed harder. It gave another inch, but no more. Kim Kardashian might have made booty fashionable again, but fat lot of good that did her now. She slumped against the tree, the pressure of the rope easing a little.

Maybe she could get the rope over her head. She slid lower in the bindings, the rub of the rope chaffing, but she didn’t stop.She wiggled as far down as she could. This time, the rope caught on the underside of her breasts.

Shit.

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