Kita blinked the sleep from her eyes.  She was sore and achy, hardly able to move.  She moaned while writhing in pain as her stomach tied itself into a thick knot.  A bolt of sheer hurt darted up her left arm, the pain so great that her eyes shot open fully.  She caught a fleeting glimpse of her surroundings just before squeezing her eyes shut tight again to drown out the pain.

   She saw thick wooden walls around her, illuminated by the orange and yellow glow of a fireplace at the far end of the room.  Her eyes fluttered open again.  There were several men within the room, none of which she had gotten a good look at. 

   The last thing she remembered was the Alpha werewolf in the woods.  She had known that she had been on the edge of a werewolf territory for days, but she never thought that she would ever have to face one of them.  She wouldn’t have, either, until the hunter had pressed her across the river, like a hound dog treeing a coon, trying to get her cornered.  The hunter had underestimated her, though.  He hadn’t counted on her being so reckless as to cross into the territory.  Her eyes fluttered open again.

   Great, she thought.  She was right back where she started, just with a different “pack.” Absolutely wonderful, she mused.  Once they found out who she was she was as good as dead.  Why didn’t the Alpha male kill her?

   She grimaced in pain, blinking in time to see a man turn away from the group and approach her.  Her eyelids were fluttering so fast that he looked like a vision from an old film, his movement caught in uneven fragments.  He stood over her for a moment, appearing to examine her wounds.  He was not the Alpha, she could tell not just by his stature, but in the way that he looked over his shoulder repeatedly.  He was constantly aware of a higher member of the group. 

   He set something down on her stomach, and it burned like acid on her skin.  She inhaled sharply through clenched teeth.  She was going to kill the Alpha male for not doing away with her when he had the chance. 

   Her eyes shot open again and she stared at the man in front of her.  Her breath was still and she felt like she didn’t dare breath.  His head was shaved clean of hair, his eyes were a warm gold, his skin a light tan, but it was the glimmer below his lips that made her freeze.  It was a metal piercing, twin arches that started below his bottom lip and curved under his jaw like blunt hooks. 

   She tried to blink the fear from her eyes.  It was just a coincidence, nothing more.  She would know for sure when he turned around. 

   As if reading her mind the man suddenly looked over his shoulder, and she saw the light, almost white symbol on the back of his neck.  She felt a sickening thud in the pit of her stomach.  It was an outline, the faint picture of a howling wolf.  Her mind screamed at her. ...

   He returned his focus on her, again putting something on her stomach that burned like all hell.  She gasped in pain, forcibly lashing out at the burning object on her stomach.  The little square medicinal pouch flew from her abdomen and landed with a thwack against the wall.  She glared up at the man, no longer trusting him.  For all she knew he was making her worse, not better. 

   “Get your filthy hands off of me, eye-commander,” she demanded.

   He smirked--an eerie taunting grin aimed at her, and then casually looked over his shoulder, “Sasha, your injured visitor is awake.”

   He stepped away and Kita’s eyes quickly found the man that had been addressed.  He was the Alpha male.  There was no doubt about it.  Her heart panged in her chest and her throat swelled.  He was big, very big, nearly six and a half feet tall.  And those shoulders!  They were so unbelievably broad. 

   He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and a loose pair of denim jeans that were held up by a leather belt.  A sheathed knife was attached to a ring in the belt on his right side, hanging unobtrusively against the outside of his thigh.  The t-shirt he might as well have been without.  His bronze muscles stretched the fabric, taking up every ounce of space there was to be had inside the garment with their defined rigidity. 

   His head, too, was shaved clean, but his eyes were a much more intense and fierce gold than any she had ever seen.  His skin was the same tan, and he wore the same shiny metal tusk-like piercing beneath his lower lip. 

   He was so absolutely male, and full of himself.  He was the King here, the lord of his domain, and he knew it.  He looked over at her, shifting as he approached her.  The other males stepped away, respectfully minding their distance.  As he neared she could see the more subtle features on his face.  He had a small scar that began in the center of his left eyebrow, racing down over his eye and ending at the top of his cheekbone.  Another scar was imbedded from his right temple down to his lip.  He had an additional long scar on his collarbone, striping downward beneath his shirt where it joined several other past injuries in marring his exquisite form. 

   Her stomach tensed, this man was not afraid of a fight.  Of course not, she thought, she was in werewolf hell.  She had walked right into a lair of eye-commanders, the meanest, most notorious breed of werewolf left alive.  The only comfort she had was the fact that they were a rare breed, so there wouldn’t be many of them … but then again, one was enough, and there was clearly more than one here. 

   Sasha stopped beside the bed, calmly taking in his subject.  She was beautiful, heart stopping, really.  She had smooth light, almost white blonde hair that fell in jagged layers over her shoulders and down her back, and soft, pale skin.  Just looking at her he could almost feel the tips of his fingers sliding across her silky skin, exploring her smoothness. 

   Her deep blue eyes shot upward to meet his.  They were full of fire and defiance.  Her thick pink lips pouted to display her opposition and her jaw rose slightly.  He smiled and reached out to touch her wounded arm, not at all surprised when she slapped his hand away with her other.

   Kita glared at the big Alpha.  She didn’t care how sexy he was, he wasn’t going to touch her. 

   “Keep your hands off of me,” she hissed with all the venom in her voice that she could muster, “get the hell away from me.”

   He smiled, unaffected by her hostility, “That’s no way to talk to someone that just saved your life.”

   “I didn’t ask you to save it,” She reminded him, “I would have preferred it if you had killed me.”

   “Why would a sweet little thing like you wish to die?”

   He moved to swipe away the stray strands of hair that had fallen before her eyes, and again she lashed out at him.  Her right hand came crashing down at his, but he pulled away effortlessly just in time as her palm struck air.  In one fluid movement he had grabbed her wrist and gently placed it to her side, pinning her down almost tenderly. 

   “Let go of me.” She demanded.

   “Not until you answer my questions, my dear.”

   She glared more fiercely than ever at him, “What do you want?” She snapped.

   “Why was that man hunting you?”

   She shrugged, “How the hell should I know.” It was a lie, a straight out and out lie.  She knew damn well why he was after her.

   Sasha studied her for a moment.  Her heart was racing, “Why did he shoot you with tranquilizer darts when he had silver bullets on him?”

   She raised her jaw, and a slow smile parted her lips, “maybe he was going to kill me, but when he saw you he thought I’d be better as live bait.” The smile left her lips and anger flashed in her eyes, “After all, most Alpha males will kill trespassers immediately.  They don’t nurse them back to health first.”

   Sasha’s jaw jerked for a moment, anger rushing through him.  He steadied his temper, focusing on her words and the implication behind them.  It made sense.  The hunter might have thought that Sasha would be more impulsive, and rush out to kill her immediately.  Sasha would then be exposed, easily killed.  Something about the story didn’t quite make sense, though.  He just couldn’t place his finger on it.  He shelved it for the time being.  He had more questions that needed answering.

   “Who are you?” He demanded.

   “Let me go!” She struggled unsuccessfully against his hold.

   Pain surged through her body as she wrestled against his one armed hold.  Tears of agony nipped at the corners of her eyes, and she struggled to keep them from falling and revealing her pain. She stopped fighting just to keep them at bay.  Her chest was rising through panting breaths, and she realized with wounded pride that physically she was no match for this man.

   “Are you finished?” Sasha asked with an amused grin. 

   “Are you?” She snarled.

   His hand tightened around her arm, squeezing with gentle but significant force, “What is your name, sweetheart?”

   She took a deep breath and her eyes flew down to see her arm pinned against her side underneath his hold.  There was no point in refusing to answer him, she wasn’t going anywhere. 

   Without removing her eyes she responded, “Kita.”

   “Kita,” He seemed to taste her name on his tongue, savoring it as his grip on her arm let up just slightly, “my name is Sasha.”

   Sasha, so now she had a name to go with that incredible body and fearsome appearance.  Why did that name sound so familiar, though?

   She moved her eyes, frowning to see her figure.  She was half naked, the effect of changing back into her human form after shifting out of her werewolf pelt.  From her hips down she was covered by blankets, but her midsection was fully exposed.  She could see the red puncture wound over her abdomen, just above her belly-button.  Her eyes scanned upward, and to her surprise someone had the consideration to cover her chest with a loose bed sheet, maintaining what she had left of her modesty.

   “Kiser is our pack healer.  He’s the one that fixed you up,” Sasha noted when he saw her looking at herself, “he’s a very thoughtful man.  I can’t say that I would have been so considerate …”

   Her eyes slowly found his, and she scowled.  She knew what he was referring to.  She could see his eyes as they flickered to her concealed chest. 

   “That doesn’t surprise me,” she replied, feigning indifference, “you’re an Alpha, you’re selfish and inconsiderate.”

   His eyes dug into her, threatening to tear her soul out, and his hand tightened again around her arm.  Ouch.  Okay, now it was hurting.

   “Where are you from, sweetheart?  How did you end up here, in my neck of the woods, so to speak?” Sasha asked as he eased his grip on her.

   She didn’t respond.  What was she supposed to do, tell him that she was on the run?  Tell him that she was a wanted woman?  That wasn’t happening.  She was desperately scrambling for a way to gain control of this situation.  She looked up at him again, regretting it immediately.  He was so commanding, so dominant, she was almost afraid of him in this instant.  It rattled her to the core, and she took a deep composing breath.  No man had ever intimidated her before, and she wasn’t about to let this one. 

   “Why didn’t you kill me?” She was evading his question by throwing one at him.

   “I didn’t want to.  Now tell me what you’re doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” He knew what she was doing, and he wasn’t going to allow it.

   She frowned, finally finding her voice after what seemed hours of silence, “I was just passing through.”

   “Where were you headed?”

   “Nowhere in particular, I--I’m a bit of a loner.”  More lies.

   Sasha raised his eyebrows.  He still didn’t really believe her, but what choice did he have?  He looked at her, studying her facial features, listening to the rapid beating of her heart.  He released his hold on her, completely unprepared for what she did next.

   Kita felt it the moment that he let go of her good arm, and she swung to the side, ignoring the shooting pain that stabbed into her gut and left arm.  She grabbed the knife that was attached to his belt, ridding him of the weapon in the quickest of motions.  She clutched it and directed it at him.

   “Don’t you ever hold me down like that again, or I’ll gut you before you even know we have a problem.” She warned him.

   Sasha cocked his head with a roguish smile, “Sweetheart, that’s an awful big knife for such a little babe like yourself.”

   “I mean it, eye-commander.  Don’t even think about trying your little power trips with me.” She shoved the knife at him, and he pulled back to escape it.

   Sasha rubbed the back of his neck, recalling the bite that she had given him in the forest.  Now she was trying to wield his knife against him.  He groaned inwardly.  She was too saucy for her own good.

   “Sweetheart, you had better give me that back before you hurt yourself.” He reached with an extended palm, gesturing for her to return it. 

   “You’re the one whose going to get hurt if you don’t back off.” She drew back, still keeping the knife directed on him.

   “Dominance doesn’t suit you, pretty baby,” he coaxed.

   It wasn’t just the words, but the syrupy way that he had said them that nearly made her melt.  She had never in her life been called “pretty baby,” but coming from his lips it was the sexiest thing she had ever heard.  She looked down at his hand again, reminding herself who he was.  It sobered her, and she jabbed with the knife at his expectant palm. 

   He grabbed the blade firmly in his fist, and Kita’s breath escaped her lips in a surprised gasp.  She looked down at the knife handle that was still in her hand, looking upward to find the sharp metal cutting edge lost in his palm.  If she were to pull back his whole palm would be sliced open.  It was a bold move that only an extremely confident man would make, a man who was certain that she wouldn’t dare cut him.  Her eyes flashed to meet his.  He was staring coolly down at her, challenging her to move.  She couldn’t.  Her eyes fluttered between the knife and his eyes, and uncertainty rolled in her belly.