Redemption

Chapter Four - Making Camp

Michael swore, and buckled to his knees but he refused to let her go.  Not now, and definitely not like this.  He tightened his muscular arms around her like steel bands.  She screamed and thrashed in his arms, but she couldn’t escape his grasp.  The women came quickly and tied her hands and feet.  It hurt Michael’s heart to see her bound, but not quite as much as his balls were aching from her bony little knees.  He swore again and ran his hands through his hair.   

“Now what?”  Caroline asked skeptically, backing away a safe distance.  

“Now we get the hell out of this ravine and find a place to make camp.”  His eyes scanned the ridges uneasily.  “This ravine is a death trap.” 

There was no easy way to carry Hannah with her all tied up.  Michael propped his hands on his hips and stared down at her.  “Look babe, I know you are going to hate this, but... I gotta carry you.  It’s a damn good thing you are small, but it still won’t be comfortable.” 

She stared at him with wild brown eyes, and growled in response.   

Michael chuckled, “That's my girl,” he said, as he lifted her and draped her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  “Lets go!” He called to the rest of his group, “we are running out of daylight.” 

Having the weight of his mate over his shoulder was a welcome burden.  He could still feel the sparks where their skin connected, even though it had grown faint.  She smelled delicious, despite the fact that she seemed to have abandoned the habit of bathing sometime back.  They hiked up out of the ravine, and went in search of a safer camping spot on high ground.  Caroline scouted ahead and came back to lead them to hollow in the mountainside, where the undergrowth was sparse, giving them a good line of sight in three directions. 

“This will do,” Michael said tiredly, and lowered Hannah back to the ground carefully.  She had been silent most of the hike, with only the occasional grunt or growl if Michael stumbled or stepped roughly, causing her to jostle on his shoulder.  When he finally set her down, her face was red from her inverted position.  Michael adjusted the t-shirt so that she was modestly covered.  Not that he would mind gazing his fill at her slender, naked body, but that body was for his eyes only. 

His crew was familiar with the task of setting up camp, and went about it without any instructions from him.  Frank and Boyd had gone to get the belongings they had stashed before they had picked up Hannah’s trail.  Sarah was gathering dead branches for firewood.   Caroline had gone to fetch water, and Lonnie was supposed to be looking for food... but his mouth never stopped running, so it was doubtful if he would catch anything. 

Michael shook his head and turned his attention back to Hannah.  Physically, she was the same, but something was very different.  Her eyes seemed wild and untamed, and were somewhat depressed and shadowed.  Her face had little expression apart from fury.  When she wasn’t growling, it was completely expressionless.  The scar on the side of her face was still the same, the skin silvery and slightly wrinkled from a burn.  Her petite frame was, if possible, even thinner than he remembered.   

Sarah came and dropped her armful of firewood in front of Michael with a clatter. 

"This really the girl you’ve been looking for all these months?” The woman tipped her head and studied the girl doubtfully, before crouching to begin the work of starting a fire.  She brushed her dirty blond hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ears.  “Seems like she’s gone.” 

Michael narrowed his eyes at Hannah, but a small smile played around his full lips.  “Oh no, she’s in there.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Because she tried to kill me.” His small smile spread into a grin.  “Some part of her must remember who I am, or she wouldn’t be so intent to kill me, right?” 

Sarah looked up and arched a brow at him.  “Do all your girlfriends try to kill you?” 

 Michael shrugged nonchalantly, “Nope, just this one.” 

It was a stretch to call Hannah his girlfriend.  He wasn’t even sure he could rightfully call her his mate, since she had rejected him on first sight.  But he hadn’t rejected her, that had to count for something, right?  And when he was going to be executed, she’d come and administered the sweetest torture ever... right before she loosened his bonds and made it possible for him to free himself.  So somewhere deep inside, she must have cared for him, at least a little. He wasn't quite sure when that little bit of care and concern for his life had turned to a desire to murder him.

He sighed, and moved closer to her.  He needed to be near her.  He reached for her matted hair, and started to work at it with his fingers.  He’d already been on the run when she disappeared.  He was only able to gather fragmented information from the few wolves he had met as he circled the area looking for her.   

He picked up a small sharp stick to work between the knots in her red-gold tresses.  She sat ridged, staring straight ahead at nothing.  Once upon a time, Michael had been an alpha.  He’d fought to take the title from his cousin at East Glade, and he’d made his small pack fierce and feared.  There was nothing Michael hated more than rogues, and he'd made it his mission to obliterate them from the territory.  He’d made a sport of hunting them down and killing them with his specially trained team.  His moto back then had been “the only good rogue is a dead rogue.” 

Ironically, his mate had turned out to be one of those rogues, and he’d very nearly killed her brother with his poisoned arrows.  He frowned at his work, as he carefully freed and separated the gold red strands.  “I don’t suppose it will do me any good to say sorry at this point, will it Hannah?”  He touched her arm, and she flinched away from him.  “But I am sorry.  I’m sorry I hunted you and your brother.  I’m sorry about that man I bit.  I’m sorry I messed everything up.” The words felt weird in his mouth.  Michael was not a man accustomed to apologizing to anyone.

She didn’t respond to his words, but continued to stare at the flames as Sarah tended the fire.  Sarah dragged her pack over, “I don’t expect we’ll get much from Lonnie,” she said with a tired sigh.  “I’ve some potatoes left,” she dug around in the contents.  The old army rucksack was like Mary Poppin's bag, an never ending source of useful supplies.  “A couple cans of corn... and a tin of Spam.” 

Michael nodded absently, and continued to keep his hands busy untangling her hair, as if that was the most important thing in the world. 

“What are you going to do with her now?” Sarah asked carefully, motioning to Frankie to bring her a cooking pot.

Michael’s brows knit together.  “I’ve got to take her back to the familiar.  I need to take her to her brother.”  He swallowed and dug his small stick into the ground beside him.  “He’s with the Rebel Moon pack now.” 

Sarah shrugged, “Never heard of them.” 

“I’m not surprised... they are new and small, but they have a strong alliance with the Black Crow pack.” 

At the mention of the Black Crow, Sarah stiffened.  Michael noted it, “I see you are familiar with the Black Crow.” He commented dryly. 

“Everyone is familiar with the Black Crow.” She said, a trace of bitterness in her voice. 

“Mmhmm.” He stared into the fire for a long time, as an idea was brewing in his head.  “Have you met the Alpha of the Black Crow?  A woman called Eudora?” 

Sarah snorted.  “No.” 

“Well, they say she’s a witch of some sort.  She can put her hands on people and heal them.” He cut his eyes back to Hannah.  “Maybe she can help Hannah.” 

Michael thought he saw something shift in Sarah’s eyes, but the light was fading, so maybe he imagined it.  She produced a can opener from her bag, “And how will you get Hannah inside the pack, when you are a wanted man, Michael Bishop?”