Who's Riding Red? Read Online Free PDF

they finally slowed to a stop. The gray wolf was still with them and he stood to two legs as they approached a small thatched cottage in a clearing. A stream gurgled somewhere in the distance and she longed for a drink of water. The woods were still dense around them and she’d lost all sense of direction hours before. She had no idea if they were even still in England.
    “Where am I?” Phillipa asked.
    “Where you belong,” the red wolf answered. “You will stay here until our master comes.”
    They stepped inside the cottage, the wolves having to crouch low to walk through the doorway, and she was suddenly set on her feet. She stumbled and caught herself on a wooden chair, her entire body feeling strange and not quite her own. Lethargy seeped into her bones and she wanted nothing more than for them to either finish her off or let her sleep.
    “You’ve damaged her,” the gray wolf said, pushing the red wolf against the wall. A round mirror and a small painting of a lake crashed to the floor as they snarled at each other with snapping jaws and bunched muscles.
    Phillipa looked down at her arm and saw the tear in the sleeve of her gown. Blood seeped in a thin stream, but it didn’t look as if the wound was too severe. The red wolf’s claws must have scratched her when he’d carried her off.
    “The master will not be happy,” the gray wolf continued, holding his partner in an unbreakable grasp.
    “Then don’t tell him,” the red wolf snarled back. “Let’s get out of here. He can deal with the aftermath.”
    They didn’t give her any words of parting. They just shoved their way out the door, and she heard a key being turned in the lock and something heavy scraping down over the door. Phillipa ran to the door and tried the knob, but it was no use. She checked the windows and was surprised to find they were all protected by iron bars. This cottage was no more than a prison.
    The scratch on her arm was throbbing and heat infused her body. She stripped off her cloak and dropped it to the ground. She stumbled through the cottage, opening and closing doors, looking for water, and stripping her clothes away as she went. The heat was becoming unbearable and her skin was flushed red with fever.
    Phillipa found what she sought in a large bedroom at the back of the house. A large, four poster bed covered in a black down quilt dominated the room, and black silk curtains were tied back at the corners. The walls were painted a dark gold, and woven rugs were scattered on the floor. There was a wooden tub filled with water in the corner.
    The water was cold to the touch, obviously having been there for some time, but it looked clean and the coldness felt good to her hand. She stepped into the tub and sat down so her entire body was entrenched. Her brow was beaded with sweat even as shivers wracked her body.
    She pulled herself from the tub, not bothering to dry off, and fell face first onto the bed. Fever consumed her and her eyes closed against her will. The last thought she had was that the sickness that had killed her family hadn’t bypassed her after all. With her death, the Redmond line would entirely cease to exist.

 

     
     

Chapter Five:
     
    Wulf
     
    Phillipa woke to a cooling sensation sliding sinuously over her limbs. Her mind was hazy and her body relaxed. When the cool air whispered between her legs, her thighs splayed open to accept the strange, but soothing feeling, as if it were perfectly natural to bare herself to the oddity.
    Images scattered through her mind and intermingled, so fact and fiction were a blurry haze. Richard was between her thighs, his cock long and hard as it prepared to take her virginity. She was damp with desire and more than ready to take him. Anticipation coursed through her, but just as he began to push inside of her, the wolves circled around them in the clearing, growling and snarling, ready to kill Richard for taking what they considered theirs.
    They tore Richard away,