Ravished by Wolves

By Nicole Ash

Centuries ago, Fador and Michael were cursed to live between two worlds-the world of man, and the world of the wolf. They came to the island to hunt down and stop the poachers who had been decimating the wolf population, but when they encounter the mahogany goddess Amber, all their best intentions go right out the window. Will she be their downfall, or their salvation?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicole Ash
• Release date: Apr 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9780463641750

Nicole Ash

It's been a while since I had anything new out, but I'm happy to report that I've recently gotten my mojo back, and will be releasing new works in the near future!

Book preview

Ravished by Wolves

By

Nicole Ash

© copyright April 2013, Nicole Ash

Published by Nicole Ash

Smashwords Edition

Revised and re-vamped from a previously published title, The White Wolf’s Curse.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Look for these other titles from Nicole Ash!

Dark Carnival

Rowan Wood

The Vampire Chronicles Book One

The Vampire Chronicles Book Two

Romancing the Stone

Rise of the Wolf Clan

Raiders of Vampyra

Oath of the Dragon

Ninth Orb

Ja’rael’s Lioness

When Night Falls

Chapter One

Amber walked as quickly as she could, given the crippling effect her high heels had on her feet after a long day at work, to the nearest of four tram benches and sat on the side nearest the light to wait. It took fifteen minutes. Fifteen excruciating minutes during which Amber tried her best not to look at the people around her.

It’s surprising how hard it is not to stare when the people around you keep talking to themselves. At one time only crazy people did that. With that new phone accessory out, though, it was hard to tell when someone was talking to themselves and when they actually had a blue-tooth on and were holding an honest to God conversation. She kept telling herself that there were other sane people about, that she couldn’t possibly be the only one, but she didn’t honestly believe a word of it.

When the tram finally arrived, she noticed that only a few people got on. Most of them continued to sit or stand where they were, talking, twitching and trying not to look at each other. She was glad most of them stayed where they were. She had always had lunatic magnetism and she had been afraid they might all pile on the tram at the same time. Worse yet, that they might all get into the same car she was getting on. She hurried to the furthest car, wincing in pain, and got on by herself.

Great. Company.

A man was sitting on one end, so she sat at the other end near the doors that lead to the next car. She pulled her long black hair down from behind her ear, coving the side of her face exposed to the man and trying unsuccessfully to hide behind it. The tram started off with a jerk that almost sent her out of her seat, but she threw out her feet and managed to stay in place. She noticed that the man had turned to look her way and now sat staring. She tried hard to ignore it, but he got up and moved to the middle of the car.

Don’t make eye contact, don’t make eye contact! They see that as a welcome, try not to look. It was impossible not to, the way he was staring at her. Specifically, he was looking at her legs. She’d always been proud of how shapely they were, but this was one of those times she just wished people wouldn’t notice. She unconsciously clenched them together; sorry now she had worn the short black skirt instead of the long black slacks. Damn fashion and all the shit it gets you into!

He stayed in place and after a few minutes, she dared to rest her eyes and tried to sit as straight and rigid as she could. The temptation to lean her head against the back of the seat persisted, of course, but she knew she shouldn’t do that in a public place. It was nasty. There’s really no telling how many people have already done that. How many of them had lice? The horror of that thought was almost too much to stand. The windows had head and hand grease all over them. The seats smelt like piss and stale sweat. Her stomach roiled at the thought. And of course this is a dry clean only skirt!

Amber’s mind started wondering and she knew she was starting to nod off, in spite of her best intentions. The rhythmic movement of the tram always did that to her. She started awake, though, when she felt something at her arm.

She turned sharply to her right just as the man who had been at the other end of the train plopped down beside her, muttering to himself. She could tell he was a homeless man. I feel bad for people in that situation, I really do, I just don’t want to sit beside people like that. Is that really bitchy of me not to want to sit by a crazy person? A voice that sounded suspiciously like her mother’s told her it probably was, but that was fortunately a very small voice she could easily ignore.

The man reeked of cheap beer, but he probably would have stunk anyway. She could tell by the filthy clothes he wore that he had not bathed in a very long time, and the clothes would likely fall apart in the washer if her were ever inclined to use one. His stench was so overwhelming it brought tears to her eyes. She turned away and covered her nose with the collar of her shirt, ignoring the fact her lipstick was probably staining it, breathing in deeply and trying her best to hold her breath.

Maybe he’ll get off at the next stop. She looked up at the map, looked down at her watch, and figured the time difference in her head. Only three more minutes. Maybe he just moved over here so he could get off more easily. People do that sometimes.

Amber covered her mouth and nose with the back of her hand, trying without success to breathe through the pores in her flesh and fighting the blackness that was already seeping in at the corners of her vision. The tram stopped, and the hope that at first leapt into her heart that the homeless guy would get up and go so she could breathe and not have to move, died a quick death. No one got into the car she was sitting in. The man beside her didn’t move to get off. The doors closed and when the tram moved again, the jarring motion of it sent the homeless guy right into her side before slamming her into him. She felt sick at her stomach. No way around it. I have to get up and move.

Amber hated that too, of course. Aside from hating to seem rude, it always seemed to further draw their attention when she got up and moved. Sometimes, they would follow her no matter where she went and she ended up having to get off the tram and wait for the next one to come along. It was so late now, though, that she knew she couldn’t do that. Not unless she wanted to walk home in the dark; in her high heels or bare-footed. No, maybe he’ll stay here. Maybe he won’t follow me into the next car.

It seemed like they had territories, like there was a rule against them going into each other’s cars. Many of them would stay in the car she found them in, even if they had followed her all over it. The problem was she never knew if the maniac in the next car was better or worse than the one she was currently dealing with and she hated having to risk it.

It’s impossible to get up and leave a tram car without being obvious about the fact that you just don’t want to be near the only other person in it. There was just no valid excuse to comfort herself with. Her mamma would have been horrified at her lack of good manners. She had worked so hard to instill a good, strong sense of guilt in her, and Amber did feel horribly guilty about doing it even as she got up and pushed the button so the doors would open and set her