Capturing Caroline by Anya Bast Page B

mumbled an uncommitted response to Logan and went over to
be near his love. Holding out a hand, he said, “Want to take a
walk?”
    Caroline
slipped her hand into his, rose, and followed him into the
woods.
    They strolled
in silence, using a deer path to avoid the worst of the underbrush
and tree limbs. Around them the night was alive, breathing—small
twigs cracking underfoot, tiny birds cooing in the branches, the
breeze rustling leaves above their heads.
    “Caroline,
I—”
    She turned
toward him suddenly. “Let’s run as dire wolves. Can we?”
    He blinked,
confused by her sudden desire to shift. “We’re still far from
Magica territory. Yes, sure, we can run.”
    “I need a good
run, Torrent. I need to burn off a little of this sadness.”
    He nodded. If
only it were that easy.
    They took off
their clothes, folded them and laid them carefully on a nearby log.
Caroline’s alabaster skin glowed silver in the moonlight. All he
wanted was to catch her up in his arms and kiss every smooth, cool
inch of it, but he knew that Caroline needed the run, the physical
exertion to bury all the negative thoughts and emotions. That
Caroline understood that a shift and a long, hard run could do that
meant she was coming into her own as a dire wolf.
    Caroline
shifted without thought. One minute she was a woman, the next a
sleek dark dire wolf. Effortless. Like she had been born to it. She
padded into the underbrush.
    He shifted and
followed her. Matching her strides, he trotted alongside her,
conveying nothing mentally, even though they could communicate that
way.
    All of a
sudden, she bolted for the north. Not missing a beat, he followed
her, their legs pounding out a beat of freedom on the forest floor.
Muscles working, silky fur shining in the moonlight, bodies
stretching against the cool night air, they ran and ran.
    They shot out
of the forest and ran over a flat plain. He knew where they were
going and how to get back, something he wasn't sure Caroline had
thought about in her grief-stricken state. Currently they were
heading ever farther away from Mage territory...and covering ground
quickly.
    He would let
her run until she'd exhausted her emotions. If he needed to carry
her back, he'd do it gladly. This is what she needed. This is what
they both needed.
    He remembered
going on runs like this with his father when he’d been a child.
Their family had lived far from the village, on their own in the
middle of the wilderness. Every day he and his father had hunted
for the family. Torrent wished he could see them one last time, his
parents, but they’d known for some time what the future held in
store for him and they'd said what needed saying long ago. It was
something Torrent thought everyone should do—never let words go
unspoken because no one knew what the next day would bring.
    His ultimate
goal was keeping Caroline safe on this journey. If she got out this
unscratched, he could go to his death and rest easy.
    They ran for
what seemed like half the night, but was probably only about
forty-five minutes. Caroline ducked into a small group of trees and
collapsed by a river, immediately shifting back to human form. She
curled up into a ball at the edge of the water and sobbed.
    Torrent stood
over her for a long moment, his heart breaking. Shivering, she
cried for him in the middle of the forest. She looked as alone as
she soon would be. His throat closing with tears, he curled his
body around hers and let her snuggle into his warm dire wolf coat.
She turned to face him, her fingers tangling in the thick fur at
his sides and nuzzled her face into his neck. He allowed her to cry
it out, a cathartic act she needed as much as the run.
    Once she'd wept
herself dry, he shifted back to human and held her against him. The
ground was cold on his bare skin, but nothing could detract from
the pleasure of holding his beloved in his arms. He would
appreciate every last moment of this, bittersweet though it
was.
    She adjusted
her body