A wolf, black as night, slinked through the trees. Its nose picked up the scent of a man and followed the faint traces. Looking down, it could see the waterfall; a man was there getting water when the wolf felt the rifle at its head. It turned to see three wolves with their throats cut hanging from the man’s horse. The wolf jumped, grabbing hold of the man’s throat. It shook, bit and clawed until all the movement stopped. Blood was everywhere on the forest floor, a gaping wound where she’d ripped the man’s throat out. Her uncle Peter stared back at her. Her cousins stood there with looks of horror as blood dripped from her fangs.
Sasha woke screaming.
Ethane grabbed hold of her and wouldn’t let go. “Shhhh.”
“I’m not a reincarnation.” Men dreamed of wolves on the ranch, only twice, once when Elizabeth lived there from the 1850’s until her death in 1923. Elizabeth was her great, great, great-something grandmother. They had started again when Sasha was young. Never in her life had she dreamed of them. But then she’d never killed her uncle before. Two months before he put a rifle to her head and he found the wolf that people called her wasn’t so easy to kill. Claiming he had killed her mother when Sasha was 11, her father when she was 26, and her fiancée 6 months later that was the worst pain. Not for Cole the fiancée, he was a complete ass only wanting to steal the ranch through divorce, but her poor mother… killed so her brother-in-law could let his own sibling go crazy allowing Peter to steal 800 million in timber, that broke her, as much as when Peter shot her. She’d hated her father for so long, never knowing he hadn’t been on medication for years when he put a gun to her head because he thought she was Elizabeth. Elizabeth had endured being raped, tortured, and left for dead when Sasha wasn’t, her father had it in his head she should give thanks. She’d fought him so hard over it, he pulled the gun and she sat there at 16 with it aimed at her head, in her mouth for three days while he forced a wolf tattoo on her back. Once she left for college she’d hardly returned until the call that her father had killed himself reached her. Another lie. Jack Stanton wasn’t suicidal, but even in his messed-up mind when he caught his brother stealing, her Uncle Peter saw him as a threat. Lies, lies and more lies flooded out with that cork pulled from the hole in the dam.
Tyler skidded to a halt at the door. Only sleeping there, as it was Christmas. He had his own house down in the village. “Are you all right?” Tyler whispered. He was her half-brother; he’d only shown up a few months before. The result of a fling her father had when she was 13. After her mother died at least, after all the rumors there were about her father sleeping with everyone all the time. She’d killed Peter as much for Tyler as herself. If her uncle had found out the boy existed, she knew he would be a target too. Ethane would have had the biggest target. As her husband, with will changed it all went to him if anything happened. The only thing she could guess as his original plan was if Peter stole the money from the ranch to buy the ranch after he ran it into debt. Once they started digging and finding Peter was behind it everything since was clearly revenge. Peter was known to be evil. After killing Daniel and shooting Ben, having a real reason didn’t seem to matter anytime someone got in his way.
“I hardly know. Nearly 3 months and…”
Ethane held her tighter.
“You need to get her away from here. Didn’t she say she should tell her mom’s family you’re married?” Tyler said sounding far older than his 16.
Even the kid wasn’t shocked at all; she must not have hidden the dreams as much as she thought. “It’s the 24th of December.”