Hunted by Desire

Chapter 10

This was... Heaven, Salem thought, arching her back as he pulled her flesh into his mouth. Such perfection... "Nick," she said, her words low, husky... "Please..." Please what? She had no idea. Had never felt this way before. This out of control, as if the worl had closed around them, and their bodies were set ablaze. His growl as she whimpered caused her to close her eyes and let her head fall back. Her hands went to his head, tangling in the silken black strands as she writhed beneath him, nearly begging for him.

He pulled back and looked at her, his emerald eyes nearly black with how dilated they were, desire glowing like warm embers. "Krasavitsa, ti ochen nuzhna mne..." he ground out in her native language. Her eyes shot open, staring at him, suddenly losing what she was feeling before. That... That phrase... -Beautiful. I need you so much-...

Salem suddenly shoved him off with a cry, feeling sick to her stomach. She looked back with terror in her eyes, curling into a ball for a moment as he landed back in the snow with a heavy grunt. After a few seconds, the male sat up, his need... Obvious. As well as his confusion. "MIlaya moyna, what is wrong?" Salem drew back farther, her skin going as pale as the snow around her as she stared.

"Stop. Just... Stop. Please..."

She suddenly got up, leaning her head forward as her hair covered part of her nudity. She looked to him. "Don't chase me. Just... Leave me be. Please." she begged, tears falling from her face as she spoke, memories of cold, sickening nights past burning in her mind, brought up freshly from the exact term that her-

Suddenly, she shifted, then bolted off into the woods, pouring everything into her speed. She left a bewildered, naked Nick laying there, staring in shock for about ten minutes, but didn't even give a second thought at this point. Didn't care. Just needed to out run her past, her memories.

xx

After about half an hour of bolting, knowing her speed was unmatchable, Salem finally slowed down, panting heavily. She slowly laid down, her ears pinned back as snow began to cover her form. She stayed there until a small snuffling noise woke her. It was soon replaced with about four sets of growls, and she felt a set of sharp teeth sink into the back of her neck. Her eyes shot open in fury and she shook the other wolf of, slowly getting up, standing to her full height, rising above the four wolves before her.

They were young, probably barely out of their first shift, she realized. But, young did not mean weak, did not mean she should back down as she bared her teeth, lowering into an attacking stance. Two of the wolves backed away, terror in their gaze, until the black wolf with the hazel eyes in front let out a responding growl. Oh, it was on.

The others hesitantly flanked her, one on each side, to at her front, and she looked around rapidly, gauging how fast she could get out of this situation. When the one in front of her lept, the black one again, she figured she wouldn't be able to until she whupped this little runtling. She knew why they were attacking. She was a rogue. She was on their land. But what they didn't know is that most rogues wouldn't run alone, would usually find one or two to pair up with for safety purposes.

They were also damn good fighters, having to defend their lives nearly every day.