Page 29 of Captive Wilderness
But something stopped me from following through. An unfamiliar emotional tug in my chest made my pace slow.
When a larger pine tree, its trunk a good foot wide where it sank into the earth, appeared in my direct line of site, I headed straight to it. There weren’t a lot of branches on the bottom. I adjusted my pace enough to scramble up its jagged bark. My claws dug in, tearing chunks out of the trunk. I climbed as high as I could before the branches were too small to hold my weight.
One paw in front of the other, I balanced my way to the end of a branch. It bobbed under my movements until I stretched out, using my claws to keep me secure.
I could see everything from here. Not the cabin, I’d run too far, but my view in every direction was unobstructed. I didn’t know where I was.No matter.I could follow my scent back to the cabin. I’d headed east, but otherwise, the land was unfamiliar to me. Clouds spread across the sky like dollops of whipped cream, the sun breaking through to warm my fur. Flies buzzed around my head, and I twitched my ears to keep them away.
The forest spread out in all directions. I thought of how it looked when I’d been falling in the parachute, scary and overwhelming. Now it was a blanket of life, teaming with opportunity. As a bobcat, I could live here and be happy.
As a human, everything I wanted and needed in my life was out of reach, hundreds of miles away back in Detroit.Is Sabrina okay?My claws curled into the tree branch. If one of those guys had survived Kane’s attack, then maybe we could have made him talk, forced him to tell us where my sister was. It had to be somewhere northern. Maybe somewhere not too far away since they’d used a helicopter.
The thought made my heart rate accelerate. Maybe my sister wasn’t that far away after all. It gave me hope.
The sun climbed higher along the horizon, carving an arched path across the sky through the vanilla clouds. As time ticked by, the strange sensation in my chest tugged more and more. It told me to return where I’d come from, back to the cabin. Back to Kane.
This was new.
I’d never been physically drawn to returning to a guy before. When I was in heat, I’d have fun with someone, then move on. A few more nights of hot sex with Kane would hopefully cure me of this foreign sensation.
If he was willing.
Thinking about our first encounter together created a purr in my throat. It rumbled through my body.
But he hadn’t felt that way, had he? My purr stopped abruptly. When he left the cabin this morning, I’d panicked. I wanted to have another round of sex and he kept resisting, couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
Practically speaking, even though he’d left the cabin instead of satisfying my burning need for sex, he’d taken care of me. I’d watched him dispassionately dispose of the bodies, relieved he handled it. Allowing him to figure it out calmed me. But when he’d left in the boat, the panic overwhelmed me all over again. It had felt like hours before he’d returned.
And now I was here, on my own, enjoying nature, but not feeling…exactly right. There was something missing, I felt empty inside—and none of that made sense. On the upside, now that I’d shifted, my wounds were healed: my swollen ankle, cuts, and bruises.
I must have dozed, because when an owl hooted from a nearby tree and I lifted my head, the sun had already started its downward arc toward the horizon. That strange, tugging sensation in my chest had grown, telling me to return where I’d come from.
Standing, I stretched, arching my spine but keeping my paws balanced on the branch. With precision, I jumped to a lower branch, then another, until I was able to descend down the trunk headfirst.
As soon as my paws hit the ground, I took off in a run. The wind whipped by me; rodents scurried out of my way. When I caught sight of a ptarmigan, I veered toward the speckle-feathered bird. It didn’t get far. I snapped its neck quickly, then settled down to feast. Bones crunched in my jaws, blood squished out onto my jowls. After my run and my nap, I was starving.
Tastes like chicken.
I made short work of the meal, then ambled farther along, my old scent leading me. Between the tugging at my chest and the heat in my belly, my skin itched again, uncomfortably. It might be a relief to have finally shifted, but I didn’t feel like my old self.
The sound of a creek made me veer in the other direction. It was strange. I could hear it, but I couldn’t see it. When the noise was the loudest, I dug down through the moss. There it was, hidden beneath the roots and overgrowth. I balanced and leaned forward to drink. The water was crisp and clean. I pressed my whole face inside, cleaning the remains of the ptarmigan from my whiskers.
The tug in my chest increased. I needed to get back to the cabin. It had become imperative for some reason. I loped my way through the bushes and trees, ignoring the smaller rodents that would have been fun to chase another time. I didn’t run as fast as I had when I first shifted but kept my pace quick and consistent, a marathon instead of a sprint.
The closer I drew to the cabin, the more the pressure in my chest eased. A curl of smoke lifted into the sky, leading me. The scent of something delicious hit me in the face. Even though I’d just eaten, my body told me I could use more.
I paused at the tree line that encircled the cabin. Besides the rotor of the helicopter in the lake and the lingering scent of dried blood, it looked as it did when I first arrived. Light blazed from the windows, welcoming. Kane was inside. I could feel it. The incessant tug inside my chest turned into something else—contentment at knowing he was near.
So weird.
My eyes fell on the chair by the door. A stack of folded clothes lay on the seat—a white T-shirt, my jean skirt, another pair of sweatpants. I inched my way toward it. When I stepped up onto the landing, I shifted.
It felt as satisfying, as heady, as it had earlier, the relief of a yawning stretch. The sensation was brief, and the cool evening air bit at my bare skin. I dressed quickly in the T-shirt and sweats, wanting to wear comfortable clothes rather than my jean skirt.
Taking a deep breath, I placed my hand on the doorknob and pushed inside. Warmth enveloped me. The cabin smelled like dinner and burning pine. Kane stood near the potbelly stove, stirring a large pot of something. He’d changed into a different shirt and jeans and looked delicious as hell. His hair was less unruly as well, like he’d given himself a haircut, and his beard a trim.
My instincts told me to jump him immediately and ease the ache between my legs, an ache that doubled in its intensity as soon as my eyes landed on him. The itch across my skin intensified. The clothes I wore became a burden.
He lifted his head, his hand stopping mid-stir. His nostrils flared. His hand tightened on the wooden spoon so much his knuckles turned white.
