Sherry's Wolf (After the Crash #3.5) by Maddy Barone

Author:Maddy Barone
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: dystopian, werewolf, shapeshifter, postapocalyptic, futuristic, time travel
Publisher: Maddy Barone

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This was Stag’s idea of a beautiful day? Sherry hunched further into her coat and dug her mittened hands into her horse’s mane for extra warmth. The sky was a deep clear blue, and the wind was light, but it was the end of January and it was cold. She hadn’t been riding in ten years, and her legs ached. Stag led the way at a bone jarring trot about ten feet in front of her. She thought this would be a leisurely amble around the town, while they chatted and got to know each other better. Instead, Stag had headed straight out of town and was out of chatting distance, riding as if he had a destination and was anxious to get to it. As they rode, she saw big gray wolves slinking along at a distance, clearly shadowing them. It reassured her to know they weren’t actually alone. How crazy was that? Werewolves creeped her out. But she knew what had happened to Tami when she’d been captured and sold to bad men, and she wasn’t sure that Stag would be able to fight off any men who tried to kidnap her by himself. Then again, he could turn into a wolf and shred them with his teeth. Sherry shuddered, and it wasn’t from the cold.

“Stag,” she shouted. “I’m getting cold. I want to go back.”

He was wearing only an unlined leather jacket. She knew wolves didn’t feel the cold as much as humans did, but it was only twenty freaking degrees. Couldn’t he at least button the coat all the way closed? He called over his shoulder. “There’s a cabin up ahead we can stop at to get warmed up.”

He nudged his horse into a canter, and hers followed suit. Sherry didn’t know how long it was before they got to the little house, but it felt like hours. Being outside town gave her a strangely vulnerable feeling, like driving a hundred miles an hour on a motorcycle without a helmet. The house, when she finally saw it, was a welcome sight. It was well hidden by folds in the land. She noticed that it was painted gray and had big black shutters, but what her eyes fixed on was the smoke coming from the chimney. That meant a fire to warm up at. Stag led the way around the back, to a stable almost as big as the house. When she dismounted she almost fell. Her legs refused to support her weight, but Stag caught her.

“Are you alright?” he demanded anxiously. “Is it the broken bones?”

“I don’t think so,” she groaned. “Just not used to riding.”

He picked her up like a baby. “I’ll get you settled inside and then come back to take care of the horses.”

The house was toasty warm inside. It was just one room, with a kitchen and eating area on one end, and a bed and chest of drawers on the other, with a big stone fireplace on the opposite wall.

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