Page 2 of Lost Fate

Around me, the sound of creaking is somewhat ominous. The trees, it seems, are complaining about the woods, too.

I’m wary to skirt away from any dead ones. With the pine beetle plague in the last decade or so, there’s far too many more hollow trees than there should be. The little bugs kill the biggest pines from the inside, leaving the hollow tree as a hazard that could be fatal if they catch fire or the wind throws them down.

I pick my way through the pack’s lands, following deer trails and the curve of the mountains, pulled by the strange, unsettling feeling that seems to guide me in one very clear direction.

About a half mile down this path, I freeze. There’s a massive dead tree that’s down across the trail that I’m on. This seriously looks like the king of all trees. It has to have been at least a hundred feet tall, which is pretty tall for pines in this area.

I think back in the day, they called big dead trees like this ‘widowmakers,’ because if they fell on someone in the woods… someone’s wife ended up a widow.

For a minute, I feel a profound sense of loss. A tree like this, taken down by this fucking wind… it’s sad. Then, I hear a groaning sound that has nothing to do with a tree, or the wind.

It’s something living.

Carefully, aware that the tree might not be fully felled and might have some places where it is still unstable, I creep forward…

Holy shit. There’s a wolf under the tree.

I rush forward. I have no idea who this wolf is. I don’t recognize him, but I’m also pretty sure that he’s not a natural wolf, and he’s a shifter. He’s a big guy, and for a natural wolf to be this huge would be pretty earth-shattering. The wolf’s coat is a rich, grayish color. He’s gorgeous in his wolf form. I’ve definitely never seen him around.

“Hey,” I say softly, aware that if he’s shifted, he’s probably going to respond as a wolf would. “My name’s Ember, and I’m a nurse. I’m here to help.”

The wolf doesn’t respond. His tongue lolls between his teeth, and his mouth is partly open.

I lean in. He’s breathing. Barely.

Leaning back and standing, I survey the tree. Yeah. That’s a big-ass tree. Normally, I’d say that we need to call for Oakwood’s enforcers or the search-and-rescue squad, but in this case…

The wolf stirs slightly.

I crouch down again. It looks like he’s pinned perfectly. The tree isn’t crushing his lower half, but it’s balanced on a bunch of rocks that he’s tucked against. The rocks, however, are just barely holding the tree off him. His hips are tucked down in a V-shape in them.

That must be how he’s trapped. The rock structure is narrow, and he somehow perfectly landed so that his hips are behind the narrowest point and his waist lines up with it. It looks like the tree fell, might have hit him on the head or something, and then he fell completely accurately into the crevice in between the boulders. It’s a hell of a lucky place to fall. But it means that he can’t get past the rocks that he’s jammed in.

I need him to wake up. If I can pull the tree up, and he can pull himself out, then he can pull past the rocks…

The wolf stirs again. He blinks up at me, and I’m struck by his eyes. They’re gray.

Definitely not a natural wolf.

“Hey,” I say again. “I’m going to get you out of here. But I need your help.”

The wolf blinks at me.

Good enough.

“When I lift up this tree, you’re going to have to pull yourself out. Got it?”

His eyes widen, and I can practically see the thought going through his mind. You can’t lift up that tree.

“Worry about getting out, and I’ll worry about the tree.”

The wolf gives a small huff. That’s encouraging. If he has the ability to be sarcastic, he can probably move.

“Blink once if you understand what I need you to do.”

The wolf seems to hesitate, but then… he blinks.

“Good. Okay. On the count of three. Ready?”

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