Chapter 1: Chapter One

Run. Keep going. It was all I knew right now. They were coming, and I just had to keep running. It wasn’t as though I was a poor runner. The wolf inside me quite enjoyed it normally. But this was different running. This was survival. Because the men that were after me were out for blood. 

Sure, they wore badges, and I had no doubt I’d end up in a jail cell before midnight still breathing, but the hours between now and then were long, as was their desire for revenge. I’d taken something from them, and I’d no doubt they intended to rob me of something as well.

The crunch of leaves beneath my boots echoed between the trees, and I could hear them closing in. 

“She’s running deeper into the woods. Don’t let her get away,” a man yelled about 200 yards behind me. That would be Sheriff John Watley, a real pig of a man and my father’s best friend. Ex-father now, I suppose. 

My lungs were reaching for every shred of air they could take in. How long since I started running? Half an hour since I crashed the little Dodge Neon I’d stolen from my dad’s house, perhaps. 

The woods were thick here, northern red oaks, leaves all but depleted and dropped to my level by now, red and brown remnants of a season gone by. Leaves always started changing colors in the County weeks ahead of their counterparts in southern Maine. 

Endurance played its role another 15 minutes, and I heard the sheriff falling behind now. Maybe I’d caught a lucky break. Then again, how lucky a break could a girl get running off into the wilderness with no supplies? Even if I outran the sheriff and his deputies, I’d be facing nothing for several miles, at least until I crossed the Canadian border. 

Above me, I heard the caws of crows, or was it ravens? Even with my sensitive hearing, I couldn’t quite tell the difference. But the birds didn’t matter. The chase did, my escape did. It was this or jail — well, probably a beating, maybe some sexual assault, and then jail, if I was being practical. Between the former and the latter, show me the woods, baby. 

When I couldn’t hear the sheriff or his men behind me anymore, I stopped to catch my breath. Even for a girl with a wolf living inside her, I had my limits. Still, the full moon was four nights ago, and it’d be another few weeks before I had the full strength of my inner wolf again. 

Okay, maybe I’ve finally left them behind, I thought, kneeling at the edge of a creek. My face was covered in sweat and grime. My jeans were caked in mud and a few leaves here and there. The denim jacket, doing its best to keep me warm against late autumn’s chill, wasn’t in much better shape. Beneath the jacket, my heart beat like a jackhammer, ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-thump. 

Taking deep breaths, I tried to work the wheezing out of my lungs. But it’s hard when they’re being bitten by crisp County air. 

How far from Allagash was I now? Ten miles? Fifteen?

“Not enough,” I muttered, finally starting to calm down. 

My legs throbbed. The sheriff didn’t exactly give me any time to stretch before I darted into the woods. All I heard was “arrest warrant,” and I bolted.

Splashing some water on my face, I stared at my reflection in the creek as the water slowly settled. A girl with untamed brown wavy hair looked back at me, her eyes an inhuman reddish brown. My skin could use a tan, but it hadn’t seen Arkansas sun in years. I used to darken considerably under summer sweat built up in the Ozarks. But here? I was pale as the sour cream I covered my nachos with. 

What future did I have left to me at this point? Murder charge at 21 and fleeing into the woods? I suppose that left me with a few viable career paths. Hermit, sage, druid, outdoor yoga instructor? Maybe I could open up a nature retreat under a new name. I’d be Sierra Chelsi no more. Maybe Robin Thistle or Summer Pond, some hippy name to sell the scam. 

I traced the scar that ran down the bottom left side of my chin and wondered if I could come up with some mystical story about it to sell my new yoga instructor identity. But not so mysterious they’d suspect me of manslaughter. 

Just as my heart settled into a somewhat normal rhythm, a noise stirred it right back up again. I flinched hard hearing the revving of a four-wheeler engine closing in from where I’d previously ditched the sheriff. 

A long sniff of the air told me they’d brought in reinforcements by way of two German shepherds to track me down. 

“Just fucking leave me alone, already! I won. Cut your losses and go home,” I snarled, knowing he wouldn’t do that. 

“C’mon out now, Sierra. The dogs are here, and it hurts like hell when they bite. If you keep running, this chase will end with their teeth ripping into the skin on your legs,” I heard a new man’s voice yell about 50 yards behind me. 

That would be Deputy Jason Pierre. He’d transferred to the Aroostook County Sheriff’s Division about two years ago after facing some domestic misdemeanors across the border in New Hampshire. Funny how he could just pop on over to a different state and have the same job and pay. 

Next to John, Jason was my father’s next best friend. Both men knew what my father did to me and let him carry on for years. Far as I was concerned, they could drop dead of heart attacks or strokes any day now. 

But if I wanted to live to see their demise as a free woman, I needed to haul serious ass. Groaning, I launched myself over the creek. My ankle popped in a few places, but I landed with all the grace of a canine with killer instincts and was off again. 

Shit was I tired. And those ravens in the trees above me just wouldn’t shut up. The cawing only continued to get louder, as did the dogs barking and four-wheeler revving. 

A few minutes later, I knew they’d passed the creek I’d just washed up in. Fuckers were closing in, and I didn’t have much fuel left. The last thing I’d eaten was a day-old sausage biscuit and some shitty Dunkin coffee from a machine well past its prime. And that was about 14 hours ago. 

My head swam in sweat and adrenaline. The thoughts weren’t pretty. I wondered who would start first, John? Jason? Maybe they’d let Sam have a few minutes with me before they took their turn. 

I tripped and fell over a mound of some kind and went tumbling down a steep incline. My shoulder slammed into a tree stump, and I cried out in pain. How far down the hill did I roll? Fifty feet? Seventy-five? There was no way for me to be sure. 

Get up! I screamed in my head, but my body wasn’t eager to respond. I’d driven it to the brink of exhaustion, probably past it. If I didn’t have an inner wolf, I’d have passed out halfway through this run with the pace I’d carried on with. 

Opening my eyes, it took several seconds for my vision to clear, and I realized my face was about three inches in front of a wild blueberry bush, barren this time of year. More cawing around me. Maybe the birds had picked it dry. I’d wager big money they had. . . if I possessed any big money, of course. 

I moved my arms, pushing myself upright. My left shoulder throbbed like a bitch, but I didn’t think the damn thing was out of its socket at least. 

It’s the small blessings, I thought, rolling my eyes. That was a mistake. It just made me dizzier as I almost fell back onto the bed of brown leaves and abandoned pine needles. 

Back over the hill, I heard that damn four-wheeler again. Would they be this determined with any other criminal? No, it had to be personal, had to be. Two men on child porn charges had already escaped jail, and the sheriff’s efforts to recapture them could be generously described as meager. 

A glance around revealed I’d stumbled into some kind of clearing, with no trees around for at least 20 feet. All of these trees were oaks, but one in particular with no lower branches caught my eye. I saw it was populated with at least 20 ravens. Or maybe my head still spinning, and I was seeing doubles and triples. 

If I made it to Canada and got some of that inexpensive health care I kept hearing so much about, maybe I’d look into whether I had a concussion from my tumble. 

The birds stopped cawing and shrieking as a shadow emerged from the trunk of the tree. The shadow appeared to be made of hundreds of dancing black and gray feathers, not quite falling, but neither rising into the air. 

Wiping my eyes, I watched a tall form appear out of the shadow, a seamless transition, one second absent, the next present. My jaw dropped a few inches as the tallest woman I’d ever seen in my life materialized from the darkness. 

Dark leather armor covered her upper body with a black feathered cloak draped across her shoulders. Long, obsidian silky hair blew in the wind as she took a solid form. The breeze carried around us as if celebrating the presence of this otherworldly beauty that appeared from nowhere. 

I felt my heart skip a beat, maybe two. There was something unnatural about how her violet eyes honed in on me, barely holding myself up on the forest floor. Sunlight in the clearing appeared to dim in the presence of this woman, but it didn’t take my eyes long to account for that. 

Listening to my breath, full of disbelief, I noticed a modest silver crown perched upon the woman’s head. And again, I noted how far I had to look up at her. She must have been seven feet tall. Meanwhile, I had trouble hitting five-and-a-half feet tall in my boots. 

My eyes moved down to look at the armor again, and I saw a black bird with its wings outstretched, head pointed upward, beak open as if crying out into the night. 

And then the woman spoke with a tenor voice, her knee-high boots crunching in the leaves as she took a step toward me. 

“Well well, my birdies were right. Something interesting has invaded my woods,” she said, a small smile forming on her lips. 

The woman’s gaze appraised the apparent mess that’d stumbled into her clearing — no — her woods. It was then I noticed the tips of her ears were pointed, and my heart skipped perhaps three more beats. 

Mom used to warn me about running into unfamiliar woods before, I thought. Now I’ve gone and brought out a faerie. 

“Won’t you give me your name?” the woman asked, taking another couple of steps closer and kneeling before me. She ran a finger under my chin and raised my gaze to hers. When her touch met my face, it was shockingly cold. My skin tingled with one finger under my chin, and I began to wonder what two or three fingers might feel like before shaking my head out of her grasp. 

“I — no. You may not have my name,” I stammered, starting to feel myself get swept away into her gaze. This felt like a trap of the most devious kind, and she hadn’t even spoken 20 words to me yet.

Her smile remained despite my answer. 

“Clever little wolf, aren’t you? Methinks someone warned you about us,” she almost whispered. 

What if she was whispering things into my ear? I thought, before shaking my head again. Why the fuck was I thinking like this? I had an escape to make good on. 

On that note, I heard John shout, “Someone check out that hill!” Then those barking dogs again. The ravens all stared down at me. They weren’t afraid of K-9 units, and neither was the woman before me. 

“Tisk tisk. Our time grows ever shorter, well your time anyway. Human authorities drove you into my forest, did they?” 

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I looked down at the ground, not out of fear, but to think clearly. Her gaze had all but ensnared me. 

“They’re chasing me,” I hissed. 

The woman looked back up the hill before looking at me again. 

“I could offer you sanctuary, you know? Steal you away so the lawmen wouldn’t find you,” she said, tapping a finger on the top of my head. My shoulders dropped, and I wondered if I asked nicely if this kind woman who’d emerged from the shadows under several ravens would play with my hair. 

Goddamit, focus! I thought. You can’t keep getting lost in these thoughts. 

This woman was offering to. . . what? Hide me? Where, in the tree she’d emerged from? That was bonkers. Then again, so was turning into a wolf under the full moon. 

“I doubt you’d do so out of the goodness of your heart. It’s a bargain you want, right?” I asked. 

The woman moved her face closer to mine and calmly stroked the left side of my hair. Fuck, this was dangerous. I needed to be running, but, oh please, just a few more hours of this. God, I loved it when girls played with my hair. 

Without warning, my head turned to the side, pushing against her nails, and a soft sigh escaped my lips. The fae continued to stroke my hair. 

I really am going to be captured, aren’t I? I thought. But I found it so difficult to raise the alarm. My breathing slowed, and I felt like I was suddenly crouched on a cloud. 

“You’re a touch-starved little thing, aren’t you?” she asked, and I somehow mustered the will to pull away from her touch. 

“What I am is a killer,” I said, the clearing finally coming to a stop. I hadn’t realized it’d started spinning. “Would you knowingly offer sanctuary to a murderer?”

“Darling, my queendom is filled with killers, including red caps who bathe their hats in the blood of victims every few days. If murder barred people from my court, those who remained would be few that they couldn’t even fill the seats around my dining room table.” 

I raised an eyebrow at that response. 

“Who are you?” I asked. 

She stood and helped me to my feet. It only served to highlight the vast height difference between us. 

“I am Varella, The Raven Queen. And you, my little wolf, are running out of time,” she said. 

My ears pricked, and I knew she was right. Those K-9 units were chomping at the bit sniffing up the opposite side of the hill. 

“What are you asking in exchange for sanctuary?” I asked. 

The queen’s grin expanded quite a bit at that.

“To steal you away into my queendom and hide you from the mortal authorities? Well, normally I wouldn’t make such an offer. I don’t like interfering with human law. I find it dull and tedious to navigate,” she said. 

“But?” I pressed her. 

“But,” she said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “I find myself in a particular mood, and I want a new pet. Imagine my surprise when a little wolf comes tumbling down the hill as if the universe itself was making an offering. So how about it, darling? Do you want to be my pet?”

Pulling my hands away from hers, I shook my head. This was insane! I was a person, and the bird queen was talking about me as though she was going down to the animal shelter to pick out a new furry friend. Fuck that. Under the full moon, I was twice the size of a timber wolf and tore through the woods as though they were my own. I was nobody’s pet. 

The four-wheeler was almost to the top of the hill now. I could hear that little engine straining under John’s weight. He wasn’t the smallest man around. 

“Make your choice, little wolf. Be my pet with a spot in the palace, or find yourself in a jail cell in the hands of your dead father’s friends,” she said. 

How the hell did she know about my father? I thought. But the sound of German shepherds barking at the top of the hill shattered any will to run down that path of questions. 

“What would being your pet entail?” I asked, doing a double take at the dogs and then back to her. The four-wheeler was so damn close now. 

“Over here! I think they’ve found her. Maybe she’s hurt or something,” the sheriff yelled, and to add more terror, I heard the sound of at least four other men, feet stomping on sticks and over stones as they ascended the hill. 

The queen put a hand on the top of my head again. 

“Who knows? It’s a surprise, and I think that’s half the fun. Maybe I’ll have you do tricks for me. Maybe I’ll see how well you’ll fare in the Great Hunt. Or maybe I’ll just scratch your head for hours on end until you dissolve into a pile of contentedness you’ve never had before in your life,” she said, running her nails through my hair again. 

Oh god. . . I’d agree to anything if that last thing she said was part of the deal. Somewhere between her talking and scratching my head, I’d sunk to my knees, eyes closed and shoulders were drooping even further. 

“Okay,” I whispered. There was a small voice in the back of my head shrieking at me to just stand up and bolt. Run as fast as my legs would carry me. You never make deals with the fae. You don’t look at them. You don’t talk to them. They’re always quick to rope you into their schemes and pranks. Don’t fuck with the fae, my mother had always warned. 

But this just felt so good. How dangerous could it be? 

“You accept the terms of my bargain? I’ll need you to say it,” Varella said, scratching even faster, though not harder. 

Another sigh escaped my lips. 

“Say what?” I whispered. 

“Your name and that you accept the bargain,” the queen whispered in my ear. 

What did I care? I was kneeling on a cloud again, my head swimming in relaxation and pleasure. Maybe I was a little touch-starved. But fuck it. I’d take my chances. Maybe I’d regret it later, but that wasn’t now. Now was just happy and cozy here on the forest floor, surrounded by the smell of oak trees and the promise of winter to come. 

“I, Sierra Chelsi, accept your bargain. I’ll be your pet,” I muttered, dreamily. It almost didn’t feel real. Did I hear the words I’d just spoken? Who knows? I guess the queen knew. 

Somewhere in the distance, I heard John shout, “I think I see her! She’s at the bottom of the hill. Let the dogs go.” 

Magic swirled around us in the wind as the queen’s aura swallowed me whole. I heard a rush of feathers as though the ravens were flying around us. Hundreds of them. And yet, I heard the queen’s whisper cut gently through the breeze. 

“I’ll need to mark you. It might feel a little cold,” she said. 

I just nodded slowly. 

Varella lowered her painted lips to the side of my neck and blew gently. I felt a patch of cold air growing on my skin and resisted the urge to rub my fingers against it. Out of the cold, a tingling sensation filled my neck, and then she pressed her lips against my skin. I shivered and closed my eyes. 

Her magic wasn’t just swirling around me now. It flooded up into my mind and down into my heart so fast I thought a flash flood warning would have to be issued. 

My ears picked up on a small click, barely perceptible, as though a lock had snapped into place over my heart. 

And I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt, deep within the core of my being I was hers now, the Raven Queen’s new pet. 

“Let’s get you to your new home,” the queen said, lifting my limp body with shocking ease. But I wasn’t shocked anymore. I was sleepy, beyond that, actually. So, as I descended into weightless slumber, the last thing I heard was John cursing. 

“Where the fuck did she go?”

And if I’d been conscious, I’d have asked that myself. Where was I going? To the palace of the Raven Queen, I guess, to serve as a royal pet or some such. I’d find out how much trouble I was in when I awoke. But until then, I was curled up in a pile of contentedness. 

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