Part 1 (2/2)

He was trying to remember something important. A prayer his mother had taught him long ago in his childhood?

Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

They had said that together at night as part of his bedtime ritual. It wasn't until later that he had known why she asked G.o.d to watch over him.

Still, when he had changed from child to man-and man to wolf-he had come to believe that he was no longer under the protection of the Almighty.

In the back of his mind he knew that it wasn't the prayer he was trying to remember. It was something else. Something vital to his life.

He had to remember... remember the words that would set him free. But he couldn't pull them into his mind.

Not with the horrible burning pain.

A long time pa.s.sed. Or perhaps it was only seconds. His eyelids fluttered closed, and he drifted on a sea of agony. A noise somewhere close by made his eyes snap open again. Blinking, he saw a shape coming toward him through the forest. For a moment, he was sure he was hallucinating.

He saw a wolf.

CHAPTER TWO.

LOGAN HEARD HIMSELF make a gasping sound as the wolf trotted toward him.

Thank G.o.d! One of his brothers, Lance or Grant, had figured out what had happened to him, and they were going to set him free from the terrible pain. Or maybe it was his cousin Ross. He was the one who had started the cooperation in the family.

Squinting, he tried to figure out who had come to his rescue. But the longer he looked at the wolf, the more he thought that it was none of them. The size seemed wrong. This wolf was too small, and the coloring was off, too-more whitish than gray. Or were his senses fading?

He stared at the animal. Could it be a real wolf? From where? The forest? A zoo? There were no wild wolves in the eastern part of the United States, as far as he knew. Only his own relatives.

The animal was pretty. And delicate. Definitely no match for Logan-freed from his trap, that is.

So who was this guy? n.o.body he knew in the Marshall clan. And in the wide world, they were the only werewolves that existed.

Or was that wrong?

He tried to focus on the animal as it walked toward him-with purpose and also with caution, as though it knew he was in trouble and had come to help, yet it didn't want to suffer the same fate.

It stopped a few feet away, sniffing at him and sniffing at the trap, obviously afraid to get too near the thing.

”Don't worry,” he wanted to say. ”It's already got me. It can't grab you, too.” Or could the mind-numbing power of the thing reach out beyond the physical contact?

He tried to puzzle that out. But his brain was too dull to hold any thought for more than a few seconds.

Cautiously, the wolf circled him. He saw the wary eyes, the tense body. Then it moved in, nuzzling and licking insistently against his face as though trying to get his full attention.

He nuzzled back because the contact was strangely comforting. But there was little more he could do.

The wolf made a frustrated sound and stepped back to look him in the eye. He answered with a gurgling noise low in his throat.

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