PRINCE OF WOLVES By Susan Krinard

But it had to be faced. She’d begun this, and she’d finish it. She closed her eyes and stepped through the door.

The wolf was sitting up in front of the stove, staring directly at her. For a moment she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

He was alive. Incredibly, he’d managed to overcome an almost certainly fatal dose of poison.

And he was more than merely alive. He seemed to be in perfect health, ears pricked and tongue lolling. His slanted yellow eyes were clear and fixed on hers with focused intensity, as if he wanted something of her. Just like yesterday.

But now he was no longer helpless. She had no fear of Wolves, knew they almost never attacked people, but wolves were also wild animals and by nature unpredictable. Particularly one who might feel trapped.

The wolf made a low sound, and Alex realized she’d been staring into his eyes—challenging him and declaring herself his equal in the only language he could speak. She looked away quickly, down at the wood in her arms. The door was still half-open behind her; with another kick she could have it open all the way, leaving the wolf a clear path of escape.

And then the reality of the situation hit her. She hadn’t expected the wolf to survive. He was almost certainly the animal who’d been raiding livestock. If she let him go free, nothing would be changed. He’d go back and raid again.

What other choice is there? Dart him and turn him over to the ADC after he’s fought so hard to survive?

But that was exactly what she should do. Exactly what professionalism demanded.

She heard the click of the wolfs claws on the hardwood floor as he moved to the water bowl she’d left beside the stove. He moved stiffly and slowly—not completely recovered, then. Not capable of surviving on his own. Still in need of her help.

He needed her. The wolves were the only creatures who did.

“Shadow,” she said.

He looked up, water drops suspended from his chin. Answering to the name as if it were his. Dangerous, dangerous to personalize the animal, become attached to him when there would only be another loss waiting at the end of it.

But she hadn’t been able to hold on to detachment yesterday, and she couldn’t now.

She crouched cautiously to set down the wood, alert to the wolfs reactions. He watched her a moment longer and eased himself to the braided rug before the stove, laying his head on his paws. Unafraid. Trusting her. Ancient history repeating itself.

No. That past was gone. Alex rose again and walked into the kitchen with slow, deliberate steps. The wolf never moved. She took a chunk of venison from the freezer, setting it out to thaw. She had no idea how well the wolf would be able to eat, or if he would accept food from her. Everything would have to be played by ear.

Her journal was on the kitchen table where she’d left it last night. She sat in the chair facing the door and opened the book to a new page.

He survived. Mother. And now I wonder if I made the right decision. Nothing like this ever happened in Idaho or Montana. I was so sure that my best work would be done in Minnesota, and already I’m being tested. A scientist isn’t supposed to lose her objectivity, but after only two weeks here—

She couldn’t complete the sentence. After a moment she slammed the cover shut and went back into the living room where Shadow waited.

He was on his feet again, standing by the door. She forgot her resolve not to stare. Magnificent was the only word for him, even as shaky as he was. He lifted one paw and scraped it against the door, turning to look at her in a way that couldn’t be misunderstood.

He wanted out. Alex felt a sudden, inexplicable panic. He wasn’t ready. Only moments before she’d been debating what to do with him, and now her decision was being forced.

Once she opened that door he’d be gone, obeying instincts older and more powerful than the ephemeral trust he’d given her on the edge of death. In his weakened state, once back in the woods, he’d search out the easiest prey he could find.

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