REMINDER-- I write long stories; some parts-- like this one-- don't have naughty bits, but the parts that do will make more sense if you read the non-naughty bits, too. . . . . PS-- #&%^$#!!! (Russian cuss-words) I seriously hate "winging it" and post-as-you-go makes it worse! A lot of stuff will end up changing or moving after the entire story is finished, which made my muse particularly bitchy when it came to writing this chapter. Anyway, three more to go, I think, as soon as possible, and next week I'll put up the first chapter of TT2-- which is completely finished-- and twice as long as the first Texas Trio! Thanks for hanging in here with me!
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In a few strides, the beast passed the vastly slower humans.
When Nivid crashed through the castle door and hurtled into the dying day, she was standing calmly in the middle of the pack, the two youngest wolves hopping happily in circles around her knees.
With illness evening out the advantage of his longer legs, Argus barely kept pace with Talgut, but they weren't far behind the beast: he hadn't yet reached her side when they raced into sight.
In snarls and growls, the pack bolted from Troi's side. Reversing directions in self-preserving panic, the two men managed to gain the castle's safety and secure the door a moment before the largest male collided with it. Desperation replaced by panting relief, Talgut and Argus collapsed against the solid wood. Rolling sideways, his chest heaving, Argus threw open a tiny door, revealing the barred, glassless window Nivid had suggested they install. The last blues of twilight were gone, but in the rising moon's cool glow, the mountaintop was bright. Through an intermittent wall of fanged, leaping beasts, the men caught glimpses of Troi at the other side of the field.
For a disbelieving moment, they gaped at her. If laboring lungs hadn't precluded conversation, they would nonetheless have been rendered speechless by confirmation of their first, horrified impressions; in a millisecond of reprieve before the wolves recognized their presence, Talgut and Argus had already seen that rescue was unnecessary. Troi was unharmed. The few wolves not currently doing their damnedest to
eat
the two men sat in a semi-circle around her, some within kicking-- or biting distance-- of her feet. Yet she was unhurt and apparently unruffled by their presence.
And even in the absence of sunlight, they saw the inferno building between the beast and his human captive.
Nivid's mind was a hot, glowing ball in the center of his brother's head-- individual thoughts undetectable in the thunder of pounding heart and panicked veins. Argus was prepared to pass everything to Nivid; he expected it, but the moment never came. When he and Talgut burst from the castle door, Nivid was halfway across the field, and the fiery ball in Argus' head became a conflagration of red and orange.
The terror of believing she was dead hadn't left him as he tore across the field.
For two full minutes, while Talgut and Argus scrambled inside and barred the door against the hungry pack, Nivid was purely animal. Unable to speak, he stood facing Troitsa, shaking with the effort of containing his emotions. The wiry mane lifted into a thundercloud of black, making his massive form seem even larger. His dark nostrils flared with every rumble from the cavernous chest. Muscles from horn to hoof trembled, racing to rise in ropes and tendons above the rest.
The few wolves who hadn't swarmed the other men lowered their bodies toward the ground, slinking away from the venomous stink of death which clung to the creature, encircling everyone within range of the huge, taloned fists, but the singeing heat of the beast's crimson-ringed eyes stayed fixed on the glaring woman half a pace a way, whose head didn't reach the level of his jutting, angry chin.
She was alive.
Argus and Talgut reached safety and with Nivid's returning will came sanity, of a sort. Enough of his mind was working for him to comprehend the fact that his woman wasn't dead.
If he could keep himself from killing her.`
Nivid knew he'd never, in his entire life, been as scared as he'd been in the past few minutes. He'd seen the way the wolves reacted to her, of course, even felt the absence of predatory instinct in the air, but he would never, ever have been able to picture the scene before him.
Incomprehensibly, the wolves who hadn't taken off in pursuit of the other men had arrayed themselves in a half-circle around Troi, facing him down. He could sense their reluctance, but also their resolve. Not only would they not harm Troi, they would protect her.
From him.
The thought enraged him further. Not that the wolves were opposing him-- he wasn't stupid enough to believe they viewed him as part of the pack-- but that they interpreted his anger as dangerous to his woman.
There had been no thoughts in his head when he followed her, just pure fear laid over a foundation of knowledge and commitment. He'd die. He'd die to save her. He'd die in her stead. If it took his last breath and the life of every wolf on this mountaintop, he'd sacrifice them all. He'd forfeit his brother and his friend, too, if the gods who had deserted the Denova line would simply allow his sweet and sparkling nomad girl to LIVE.
But he'd emerged from the castle to discover that not only wasn't Troi hurt, the damned wolves were protecting her.
From him.
Even with intellect and will returned to him-- and Argus offering most of his besides-- Nivid was speechless. For endless moments, he heaved and shook, and he glared at Troi. Who didn't take her eyes from him. Through the burning, bitter swirl of his own emotions, Nivid was unable to taste hers.
With one final hiss of air through his teeth, Nivid growled one word. "
Inside.
"
Her determination was withering, he saw, the posture which spoke of such steadfast calm collapsing, while her lips twitched and her shoulders curled forward, but Troi's nostrils flared and her voice was steady when she answered him. "I am not a slave."
"INSIDE," Nivid thundered, the massive arm tapering to talons which pointed the way back to safety, back to the castle, back to the tower, and back into the life where she now belonged.
Two of the wolves flattened themselves to the ground at her feet as he roared the command, but the larger animals stood, heads low and ears alert, their eyes fixed intently on his.
Troi trembled visibly, her hands fisted at her sides.
"No," she gritted out. "I will go nowhere with you."
Nivid was on the verge of giving in to the urge to throw her over his shoulder, though instinct, intellect, Argus, and the wolves all shrieked that would be the wrong response.
Then Troi blinked, and the fire in her eyes began to waver in a flood of glassy pain.
The lurid film of rage fell from Nivid's eyes and bared his senses to the emotions beneath Troi's shattered confidence. The wave of grief, horror and disgust she was feeling poured through his nose and into the center of his heart.
Nivid broke.
The facial muscles he'd been using to approximate human expression went suddenly slack, and for the first time in twenty years, he felt the burning sting of tears. An anguished roar burst from his body as he spun, disappearing into the black, sheltering taiga.
Troi collapsed.
Argus slid down the wooden surface to the cold stone floor, but Talgut watched through the fortified viewing port as Troi fell, dissolving into sobs. With a whine, two lanky young wolves separated from the pack in front of the door, streaking back across the field. The remainder, who had ceased their ardent snarling at the sound of Nivid's roar, turned and loped away.
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Morning was creeping over the taiga when Troi at last sought shelter.
The wolves who didn't follow Nivid surrounded her as she sobbed. Those who had stayed to defend her from the beast kept watch, while the two young males lay beside her. From the small square window, not much was visible, but when Talgut climbed to the parapet above, he could see that she was curled on her side, one wolf stretched along her spine, another furry body encircling her arms, its head resting directly atop hers.
When the automatic timpani of panic subsided, Talgut was forced to look away. Her wailing had deteriorated to simple tears, but the picture of her huddled desolate in the moonlit field was almost enough to make him cry, too. He went back to stand sentry at the door and sent Argus to watch from above.
