musky, redolent of some animal, and overlaid with the welcome tang of woodsmoke. The scents teased at her, called to her, caused her to fight her overwhelming fatigue and force her eyelids open.
Another cave, she thought, finding an odd sort of humor in it. A small fire flickered nearby, crackling as various pieces of wood caught. The woman from the woods carefully fed it larger and larger pieces, until it grew large enough to sustain itself. The woman sat back on her heels, and looked over to meet Jennilee’s eyes.
“Good, you’re awake,” the woman said. “I was worried that you’d left us forever.”
“My brother?” Jennilee asked, feeling a rising panic when she didn’t immediately see him. The woman pointed, and Jennilee turned her head to see the most remarkable sight. Her brother lay naked on a rumpled bit of fabric that Jenni recognized as her own cloak. His tiny fists held fast to the fur of the large, dark she-wolf who lay curled around him as he nursed lustily from one of her teats. Three small, dark shapes crowded around the baby, searching for their own source of sustenance. They appeared to be helping to keep him warm, though the mama wolf was careful not to let her pups’ sharp claws or teeth scratch the human baby.
A primal lance of fear shot through Jennilee at the sight of the infant so close to such a large predator . . . but she held herself still. These wolves were not acting like she’d been taught wolves would act. They seemed accustomed to the strange woman’s presence, and that mama wolf looked directly at Jennilee as if to say, Relax, I am caring for him.
Jennilee turned back to the woman. “What is happening here?” she asked.
The woman smiled. She’d removed her cloak and hood, and Jennilee could see gray streaking through the dark mass of her hair. Her face looked younger than the gray would indicate, and her eyes were a clear brown.
“What is happening, my dear, is that I am trying to save you and your brother. He is the easy one. He needs only milk, and luckily she whelped just a week ago. You on the other hand.” She turned away from the fire to face Jennilee fully. “You are badly hurt. Your ankle is shattered, and I don’t have the skill to set it, with the bone coming out of the skin like that. You have lost a lot of blood, and you will likely not live for more than another night or so. Unless . . . I can save you. But you must agree to it. For it will change everything if you consent.”
“Consent to what?” Jennilee asked, wary. Her ankle pulsed pain at her, beckoning her back down into the welcoming darkness. She pushed it aside and clung to her consciousness. This was important.
“Consent to being bitten,” the woman said, her words soft but clear. “You must have realized that I am not like most women. The wolves tolerate me, embrace me because I am one of their own. I am of the loup garou. I can take their form. If I bite you in my wolf form, your body will heal itself as soon as it changes. But you, too, will be loup garou. You will forever live between worlds, and I am very much afraid that you will never be able to go home again.”
Jennilee’s head swam with pain and exhaustion and the strangeness of the woman’s words. “Why never?” she managed to say. “I will be with my family for all eternity.”
The woman smiled sadly. “Child, I honor your beliefs, but I am afraid that if you take my gift, you will not die. Not naturally. My father was a French trapper from Canada. I was born in 1732, and I have not aged a day since I was bitten.”
Jennilee felt the darkness crowding around the edges of her vision, and a roaring filled her ears. “Can you . . . take my brother to my family?”
The woman shook her head, her eyes intense. “I dare not approach them. It has been a long time since I gave up hope for humanity. They cast me out once. I will not allow them to do