Legend (A Wolf Lake Novella) Read Online Free PDF Page A

how to get rid of a body.    
    "What? No!" Sam continued to struggle. "Look, just put me down and let me go. I won't say anything. I swear!"
    Roland ignored her. Nafarius may want the woman alive for questioning. Fine. But once the alpha had his answers, Roland planned to push for a permanent solution.  
    Fifteen minutes later, Sam finally surrendered. The man was immune...or deaf. Though she was voting for stubborn and pig-headed. All throughout her struggles, he'd continued to walk, never once slowing his steps despite her extra weight. His grip never grew lax and he simply refused to respond to her. She'd used her best curses, pleas and even tried bribing him, all to no avail.
    Too tired to do anything else, Sam hung down his back, her arms dangling beside her head. Despite her position (or maybe because of it), she couldn't help but notice what an incredible ass the man had. She considered commenting, but remembering his earlier disgust, assumed he wouldn't appreciate the sentiment.
    Lifting her head, Sam brushed her hair out of her eyes. Behind them, she could see movement through the trees. Wolves , she thought. They were following them, darting in and out of the brush, their coats occasionally catching the moonlight.  
    "This isn't happening," she muttered, her head dropping back down.

    * * *
    Nafarius stood, silent and alone. He watched the trees, his ears tuned to the sounds of the night. Behind him, the rest of the pack prepared for the evening meal, firelight and laughter pouring out from their den. He wasn't ready to join them, not as long as Roland and the others were out there. Not with a human this close to home.  
    He knew his beta disagreed with Nafarius' decision to bring the woman here, disagreed violently. It wasn't their usual way of dealing with trespassers. But the woman was unusual, her presence giving him pause. Not that he couldn't kill a woman. She was just as dangerous to him and the others as any man. But women rarely travelled alone. He was certain someone would miss her, should she suddenly disappear.  
      Marcus was the first to break through the trees. Crossing the clearing, his light brown coat muted in the dark, he brushed up against Nafarius' leg with a quiet woof of greeting.  
    One by one they returned, each member taking the time to greet Nafarius before slipping inside.
    Last to arrive, Roland dropped the woman at his leader's feet. "Be careful," he warned, "she's fast."
    "Obviously not fast enough," Nafarius said, humor lightening his eyes.
    " She's standing right here," Sam snapped. Rising to her feet, she rubbed a sore spot on her hip.
    Roland's lip curled, pulling angrily at his scar, a low growl of warning rumbling in his chest.
    "Bite me," Sam said, stepping into his space. She was sick to death of being growled at and manhandled. She was sore, tired and she wanted to get back to her normal, unimpressive life.
    Roland shook off Nafarius' restraining hand. "She doesn't belong here," he said, before turning to head inside.
    "I didn't ask to come," Sam whispered.
    "It is unwise to antagonize Roland."
    Sam turned and felt her eyes go wide.  
    Nafarius stood with his arms crossed over a broad chest, his bare feet hip width apart, glaring at her. Red hair stirred lightly in the evening breeze. She couldn't make out the color of his eyes, not in the dark and not with the light at his back but they appeared bright.  
    "Who are you?" he asked.
    "Who are you?" Sam shot back.
    Nafarius ignored her. "You're trespassing."
    "This is public land," Sam countered. Technically, Wolf Lake was located in a corner of the National Forest and she hadn't bothered to get a camping permit.  
    "This is our land," Nafarius growled. "What are you doing here?"
    "What business is it of yours?" Sam was struggling to understand what was going on. She knew what she had seen, but some small part of her refused to believe.  
    "Who knows you are here?" Nafarius had been trying to decide what to do. A lone