Touched

Author's note: this chapter does not contain any erotic elements.

10.

Closure

Sam didn't sleep a wink that night. She was too tense, too wired, too anxious at the coming of the full moon. Sex with Wren while he kept on his fur coat had proved to be an unexpected delight, but carnal pleasures would only distract her for so long.

By the time they ran back to the pack house, it was well into the late night hours. Bubba and Susie were gone, leaving Sam and Wren with the place to themselves. The small diner was somehow quite cozy when it was just the two of them--with one exception.

"All this showering is going to be

murder

on my hair," Sam said, grumbling as she turned on the tap again. She gave Wren a dirty look, albeit one with a playful edge, to where he stood in the mud room door, tall, naked and handsome. "I should just shave it all off."

"Hooo, shit-fire no," he said, crossing his arms. "Not if

I

get a vote."

"Do you

want

to have a vote?" Sam squeezed a healthy amount of soap into her hands and began lathering herself up again, only this time she had to start below the waist.

Wren gave her a funny look. "Well...reckon I think I'd like to, sure."

"Then what're you standing out

there

for?"

His look of surprise was funny enough. When Sam saw a renewed shine of hunger in his eyes as he followed her into the shower, she started laughing again.

"I ain't

that

funny, Sam," he objected as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Funny enough from where I'm standing," she said, smirking up at him. She pushed up onto his tiptoes and kissed his chin. "Nothing wrong with making a girl laugh, Cowboy, is there?"

"I s'pose not."

The water was hot as it poured down over both of them. Between that and the look in his eyes, Sam was feeling very,

very

warm indeed.

Wren licked his lips. He seemed tense, and she could sense his worry and fear--not the sort of emotions she'd anticipated at a moment like that. "Sam?"

"Yes, Warren?"

He smirked. "You ain't never called me that before."

"Glad you noticed." She pushed up higher on her toes, kissing his neck and under his jaw as she let a hand rest between his legs, cupping his warm, softened cock. "You can ask me anything you want--just not about tonight."

His hesitation confirmed that her guess was right on the money. "But what about--"

"Shhh." She shushed him with a nuzzling of her nose to his neck and a slow squeeze of his dick in her fingers. "If I think about it, I'll start obsessing and I won't be able to think about anything else." She kissed further down his neck and along his collarbone, which allowed her to stand flatfooted again. "I want to

relax

for now, Cowboy." She looked up into his eyes. "Think that you can help me do that?"

It almost seemed like he'd lost track of his own thoughts for a moment before he blinked and opened his eyes again, focusing on her face. "Yeah, Sam. I can do that."

--

The relaxing didn't last long enough to suit Sam, but then, it never did anyway. The pair ended curled up in an easy chair, dozing off somewhere before dawn. Sam got a few hours of hard-fought, restless sleep before a bit of sunshine woke her up later that morning.

Wren was still asleep, so Sam took the opportunity to ease out of his arms, slide back onto four legs and slipped out the back on her own. Part of her wanted to wake Wren up and make him come with her, but it felt cruel to rouse him up just because she was needy. Sam had to be stronger than that. She had to be.

She started running. The ground was cold and hard underfoot; the shadows were still long and thick, even while the sunshine was bright and shining. It was cold on that December morning. Part of her hoped that she'd survive to see Christmas. Then she realized she needed to get Phil a gift--but what was she supposed to buy a man she still hardly even knew? She was getting ready to take on the fight of her life for him and a bunch of strangers. She didn't have time to be distracted about Christmas.

Sam hadn't been running for long, but her senses came alive--there was more out there with her than the trees. She caught a whiff of something dark and undeniably male in the wind--and more than one. It was a smell she immediately recognized.

Slowing her run, Sam stopped and slid back into her bare skin near the middle of an empty clearing. The sunlight was little more than an illusion, a cold glare that made her break out in gooseflesh. But she faced the direction of the harsh scent, peering through the trees. "I can

smell

you," she said, her heart pounding, mouth going dry.

Two pairs of dark figures came bounding through the trees. As they approached, all of them slid from four legs up to two--it was Tennessee Watkins, Dez and Jefferson, and behind them came Rebecca; the skinny blonde looked comically out of place beside the disfigured giant and his pair of goons. All four of them were naked, in their bare skin. The moon couldn't decide whether to make Sam excited at their nudity or excited at the idea of cutting them open and bathing in their blood.

"Well,

lookie heah

, the girl's nose works after all." Tennessee grinned, showing his teeth, or the ones he still had left. "Where's yer Daddy, darlin'? Did I scare 'im off?"

Sam crossed her arms and fought to keep herself composed, in spite of the sweat clinging to the back of her neck. She could feel Tennessee and his squad as easily as any of the others: he was alert and quite pleased at finding her, while Rebecca was panicked and nervous; the other men were relaxed, yet also excited as though in anticipation of something--Sam's impending beating, most likely.

Sam was still learning, still discovering things about what being a Dominant meant--Tennessee and Rebecca felt

different

from Dez and Jefferson, as though their emotions had different scents or were colored differently; her brain was still struggling over how to process that. She shook her head and pushed past such things. "You know fucking well enough why he isn't here." The four of them didn't get any closer, so she kept her feet planted and focused on breathing low and slow. "You also know the Meet isn't until tonight."

"But darlin', why would I want to ruin my glorious return to the pack by dirtyin' my hands with the likes'a pitiful little ol'

you

?" Tennessee snorted. "Seems like a far bettah use-a my time would be chokin' the life outta you

now

. Can't say as I expected ta find you out here, but who'm I ta question good fortune?" He held out a hand; as if she were on a string, Rebecca stepped into his waiting arm and pressed up next to him, curling one of hers around him.

Sam was starting to regret not waking Wren up, but if he was here, they'd just be outnumbered together; at least this way, he wasn't in danger. "So, what? You cheat

again

, kill me now like you tried before and then say you're King of the Mountain tonight when nobody's there to stop you?"

"Mm, somethin' like that." Tennessee smirked, snapped his fingers. Dez and Jefferson started towards Sam, hands opened with murder in their eyes; they didn't even change forms, as if she wasn't worth the effort. "I've got

plans

, honey," Tenn added, "and

you

ain't in 'em."

Sam felt strangely calm, almost detached from herself. She was quite sure she was going to die and there was nothing she could do to avoid that...except there was--she could transform, change into that two-legged beast and defend herself. Sam dug down deep inside of herself, calling on the moon's power, remembering the way it felt to slide into that monstrous shape--

--then there was a snap or a crack in the air, like a dry tree branch breaking, echoing in the still air.

Pkow!

The silent Jefferson gave a strangled sound just before the front of his face burst in a an explosion of blood and wasted flesh; brain matter and worst spread across the ground at his feet before he crumpled and fell.

Sam blinked.

A second crack.

Pkow!

Rebecca started to scream, but that sound was also cut short. Something caught her at the back of the neck, and her flesh from collarbone to chin bloomed in some wicked impression of a bloody flower as it melted away. Blood sprayed from the wound, staining her bare breasts and Tennessee's belly. She clawed at her rent flesh, eyes staring in shock at Sam before looking up at Tennessee; she pulled at him, mouth opening and closing, blood spurting and frothing from her mouth before she slid out of Tenn's arm and fell in a heap at the man's feet.

Dez dropped to the ground, covering his head. "The

fuck's

going on?!"

"Stay still!" Tennessee snarled. He turned his head on a swivel, squinting into the trees. When he spoke again, it was a shout: "

Son of Nemesis!

" He raised both hands, showing they were empty. "

C'mon out!

" The giant man turned and stared at Sam. "Do it or I'll kill the girl!"

Son of Nemesis?

Sam mouthed the words, confused for a second before she remembered Rhett's talk in his truck, his mention of the old Greek goddess.

"Reckon ya'll can

try,

Tennessee Watkins." Rhett's familiar voice sounded close as it came out of the trees, but she couldn't spot him no matter how Sam turned her head or looked out into the woods around them. She caught a whiff of tobacco smoke, but couldn't see it, or even the cloud of the man's breathing in the branches. "Ain't my problem whether you kill 'er or she kills you first. I'm jus' here ya even the odds." It was quiet for a moment, soft enough that all Sam could hear was Dez's panicked panting. "Those're 225-silver grain subsonic rounds--s'quiet enough even

yer

hearing ain't sharp enough to catch it 'fore I put a hole big enough ta stick a fist through...oh, whatever the hell I want to, really."

"Oh-shit-oh-shit-oh-shit," Dez said, trying to flatten himself against the ground.

"

Now

," Rhett continued from his hiding place, "Miss Samantha and I have a deal, see?

She's

the one what gets ta fight yer furry ass fer the right ta lead yer pack of wolves. That ain't no business-a mine."

Tennessee growled, fixing Sam with a glare so harsh it should've struck her dead on the spot.

"As fer the

rest

-a yer bunch'a cocksuckers," Rhett continued, "

they

had ta go and beat her Daddy near ta death. Seein' as Phil's a fam'ly friend'n all, I took

offense

at that, ya understand."

Dez had tears sliding down his face, too afraid to move as the whites of his eyes got bigger and bigger. "Oh-shit-oh-shit-oh-sh--!" His profanity was cut short as a shot from a completely different angle than the others caught the little fat man through one side of his head and came out the other in an explosion of bone, brains and blood. Sam watched his body shudder and his eyes glaze over as blood trickled down his cheeks and out of his mouth. The tension left his body in a soft, shivering sigh and he lay completely still.

Tennessee glared at Sam as if she'd been the one to pull the trigger. "Shoulda

known

ol' Philly's brat would cheat a fair fight, jus' like

he

did last time." He lowered his hands, brushing one across his scarred face.

It took effort for Sam not to laugh. "

You

bring your pet assholes along to ambush me before the Meet and

I'm

the cheater?" She still smiled, as if her stomach wasn't doing flips and she wanted to puke all over her bare feet after watching three people get murdered by an unseen assassin. "That's funny, Tenn," she managed to say. "You're fucking

hilarious

."

"Ya'll both can fight ta yer pretty little hearts' content now," Rhett called. "Jus' remember who's watchin', Tennessee Watkins."

Then all was quiet again. "I'm going to

kill

that man one day," Tenn said. "But I reckon I'll have some fun with

you

first." He didn't spare a single glance to his downed followers, but kept his eyes focused on Sam. It wasn't the first time she'd felt the intense heat of that stare and she fought hard to stay composed and not back away.

Tennessee peeled back his lips to bare his teeth and he slid into that twisted abomination between man and wolf that she remembered, all dark fur and thick muscles, twisted scars and a pair of mismatched eyes that both managed to burn with hate and hunger. Tennessee had no fear in him anymore, not of Rhett or her--he was triumphant, already assured of his victory once he squashed her like a bug.

But Sam wasn't afraid of Tenn--not enough to run away, anyhow. The moon wasn't even out yet, but it's power was in the air, crawling along and under Sam's skin, filling her up already even though the sun was up and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. When the moon was up there was no telling whether she could slide into a wolf or not, but the moon wasn't up yet: Sam was still in control, for now. That likely explained Tennessee's intent on ambushing her during the day, but now the tables had turned against him,

The first time she'd slid into a werewolf's shape--lithe limbs with bristling, taut muscles, sharp fangs and claws--had been out of a sense of panic and desperation before Tennessee choked her to death; this time that same desperation wasn't far away, but she was ready for the change, unafraid of the painful transformation as it came over her almost instantaneously. Her limbs warped and stretched, her hands turned into twisted appendages tipped with cruel claws, and her face became some twisted visage of wolf and woman together, fangs bared, lips curled back.

Sam smelled smoke in the air: gunpowder mingling with the scent of blood and foulness from the three corpses littering the forest floor. Sam also smelled Tenn, his evil stench that stung her nostrils and made her pull her long lips back even farther.

The real fighting began. Tennessee had bulk and brute strength on his side, not to mention his immense size. His wild, angry swings made Tenn seem more like a giant, threatening to crush her under his feet. But Sam was small, wiry and fast--much,

much

faster than Tennessee appeared able to anticipate or to catch.

The clay churned and flew up in great clods as the two monsters circled one another. Anytime Tenn rushed forward to attack, he moved faster than any human could've avoided, but Sam wasn't human anymore--she was even faster than he was, jumping out of his way, dodging his blows, avoiding his snarling teeth. Samantha wasn't a trained fighter by any means, but she instinctively knew he had a weakness: his maimed eye meant he had a blind spot, and she just had to wait for an opportunity to exploit it.

They each got strikes through the other's defenses. When his first attack caught Sam in her midsection, she screamed from the painful fire he carved out of her flesh; when Tennessee reached too far and nearly stumbled, Sam turned and snapped down on his extended hand, feeling bones crunch and tasting blood. Tenn growled and yanked his hand back, but left part of a finger behind. It tasted

good

. Still, Sam crunched the tender bones between her jaws before spitting them into the dirt.

"Sam!" The sound of Wren's voice was an unexpected distraction, one that nearly cost Sam both the fight and her life; when she started to turn her head to look towards her lover, Tenn leapt forward and sank his teeth into her shoulder. The strike was quick, even for him, and that made it too shallow for him to get a solid bite in. All the same, Sam howled and shoved her claws into his face to shake him loose, scoring several deep furrows across Tennessee's maimed visage and forcing him to let her go before she blinded him in his one good eye.

The two opponents pushed back from one another, dripping blood into the growth and stained dirt at their feet. Sam dared to take a look back for just a moment. Wren was half-dressed and standing at the edge of the clearing with Susie, Bubba, Claudia and Eleni Marcus, of all people--what was

she

doing here? But Sam didn't have time to puzzle over that mystery: Tennessee was rushing her again, intent on claiming his victory at last, witnesses or not. If he cut Sam down, the others would likely be next.

Sam had to end the fight now. She fell back, keeping low to the ground and favoring her injured shoulder, drawing him in closer. When he swung for her head, Sam went lower still and rolled on the ground, sliding right between his legs with a quickness that caught Tenn by surprise. When she came up behind him, Sam leapt for his back, only to catch a swinging backhand as he spun around.

Sam went flying through the air and struck a pine tree hard enough to crack the trunk. She felt to the ground, stunned, the breath knocked out of her. Her chest burned; her eyes were wide in her head while she lay on the ground, breathing hard, not moving. Her injured shoulder was so hot that Sam expected it to burst into flames.

Tennessee turned around, sliding back to his bare skin. "What was

that

?" He turned to face Sam, arms opened wide, smug grin on his face. He was gloating, convinced he'd already won. "Yer too

slow

, honey. I'm gonna break you inta bite-sized pieces 'fore I gobble ya up!" The man felt so certain of his victory that he didn't even change shape again but walked towards her in human shape, hands extended, mauled face twisted into a grin.

Sam lay still until he was nearly on her. Then she rolled on the bed of dead leaves and pine needles, pushing off of the tree with her clawed feet and sliding through his legs again. As he roared and started to turn around, Sam dug into the dirt and jumped straight right up into his arms while sinking her teeth into his thick, muscled neck.

Tennessee tried squeezing the life out of her again, but the harder his arms squeezed, the tighter her teeth sank into his flesh. Blood and fluid ran into her open mouth and right down her throat, but even if Sam couldn't breathe, she refused to let go. She listened to his ragged, shallow breathing and raked her claws along his legs and belly, feeling hot blood splash over her.

She couldn't see his face, but Sam could hear the surprise and shock in the man's breathing, feel him begin to stumble as his strength started to fail. The terrifying grip of his arms around her chest lessened with each passing moment, and she finally delivered the killing blow as she pulled backwards with all her remaining strength, tearing a hole open in his throat.

The giant fell back and stumbled before sliding down the trunk of a nearby pine tree. His mismatched eyes looked up at Sam with a mix of shock and accusatory anger, as if he couldn't believe what was happening. The air he kept trying to breathe whistled and bubbled with foaming blood at his gaping throat wound, which he proved and pulled at with his fingers.

Sam slid back into her bare skin and spat out a mouthful of blood and ruined flesh. She wanted to fall to her knees and vomit, but she couldn't afford to show weakness--not with Wren and the others watching her. She held Tennessee's eyes, not moving, watching his life fade away.

The sound of footsteps behind her made Sam raise a hand to stop whoever was approaching.

"I can save his life." It was Dr. Marcus; her voice was low, but insistent.

Sam had to force herself to swallow twice before she could answer, ignoring the thick, coppery tang on her tongue. "He wouldn't have let you save

me

." When the doctor seemed ready to insist, Sam turned her head and gave the doctor a warning look--

that

seemed to do the trick.

Tennessee gave a small smile, as though he was amused by Sam's words at the end. His last few breaths were exceptionally shallow, and it looked to Sam that he wanted to say something. But he couldn't speak, and finally, his body gave up the fight and sagged, releasing his final breath and strength in a shuddering sigh.