Dark Moon Falls

Chapter Two - Logan

He scratched his dog's head one more time before slowly making his way up the trail to his cabin, his senses on high alert as he strained his supernatural hearing for any sound out of place or some whiff of trouble on the night air. The wolf within him thirsted to shift to sniff out the possible danger, but Logan kept his animal tamped down, at least for now. Dax walked beside him, tail up and wagging now that they were together again, even though he kept his head down as he sniffed at the ground. Logan couldn't imagine what had spooked the German Shepherd, but it definitely had to be something out of the ordinary to have sent him in search of Logan.

The night took on an eerie silence with Dax's unusual welcome, and normal sounds now seemed threatening. However, nothing out of the ordinary raised its ominous head, and soon, Logan began to feel as if the whole thing was just too much of his imagination running away with him, and that Dax had merely come across a larger animal that spooked him. The scent of blood tingeing the air was probably the leftover kill of some animal who had ate his fill and moved on and not anything to concern Logan.

He paused in his walk and blew out a breath, hands on his hips as he shook his head. This is ridiculous. Nothing comes out here but some deer and a bear or two. He glanced down at Dax. Silly ass dog. Logan leaned down and rubbed the shepherd's head as he allowed the tension from being on high alert to slip from his shoulders. “Let's go home, boy," he said to the dog as he started making his way a little quicker to his cabin.

Feeling a little more relaxed, Logan turned his attention back to his abrupt departure from The Wolf Inn. The crowd wasn't the main reason he had rushed out; it was more how cramped he felt amid all those people, unable to move quickly if it became necessary. The desire for a speedy escape was always at the forefront of his mind thanks to his time as a member of the Pack Hunters, a team like a special forces unit who took out rogues and other felons. Never allow yourself to be blocked in and cornered or pinned. Always watch for an attack, even if an attack seemed unlikely, and prepare to counter it. Those cautions were ingrained into him to the point of almost paranoia, and that paranoia had made him step away from the Pack Hunters and into the deep woods to be alone, especially since those cautions failed him.

An owl hooted off to the south as Logan's cabin came into view, the light he had left on peeking through the window, offering him a warm welcome home. He stepped onto the walkway he had created just a few months ago to make the place seem more like a home than a hideout, but as he did, Dax started to whine again, his head straight up as he stared at the porch and the front door, his ears perked high on his head.

Logan paused, taking a deep sniff of the air. Blood. A lot of blood, and this wasn't from an animal. This was human.

And female.

Logan narrowed his eyes as he tried to see into the darkness, but the only thing he could make out was a large shape slumped over on his porch. Dax took off, bounding down the path to whatever—whoever—laid hunched over on the wood deck at the front of the cabin, the dog whining as he leaped over the two steps and raced to the form.

Logan followed, still not sure what was there or why. When he stepped on the first plank leading up to his front door, the body against the wall slumped over, hitting the wood deck with a weak thud and sprawling out on the floor, arms splayed outward, face to the side facing the forest. Logan stepped closer, noticing the long blond hair draped over the woman's shoulders, the full red lips and the rise and fall of her ample breasts even with her shallow breathing. He knelt down beside her, Dax sitting on his haunches on the other side of the woman. Blood soaked her top just to the side of her navel, the metallic smell filling Logan's nostrils. Whoever she was, she was unconscious, but alive. How long she would remain that way, he didn't know, just as he didn't know how long she had been there or how much blood she had lost. All he knew was that she was a problem he didn't want. Whoever had hurt her would look to finish the job, and that meant, they would more than likely track her to his cabin, especially if rogues were involved. That was a hassle he didn't need or want.

He stared down into her face, debating within what to do with her, when her eyes fluttered open—the deepest, darkest blue eyes he had ever seen. They were weak, their natural spark dimmed by her injuries as she stared up at him. Pain pinched her face as she struggled to reach out and clutch at his arm. “Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse, strained with pain. “Help…me. Don't let…them…"

Her hand slipped from his arm, thumping on the wood deck and going still as her eyes closed once more.