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Running Wolf
Jenna Kernan
RIVAL TRIBES…Running Wolf is a valiant Sioux warrior. During his first raid as war chief he captures a surprising Crow enemy – a woman! This spirited fighter is unlike any he’s ever met. Her beauty and audacity are entrancing, but they threaten his iron resolve…… RIVAL PASSIONSSnow Raven must focus on freeing herself – not on the man who keeps her captive. But as she falls deeper under Running Wolf’s spell she realises he is her warrior… and she’ll risk everything for him!
“How are you called?” Running Wolf asked.
His voice resonated inside her, rumbling through her like the roll of thunder. She pressed her clasped hands to her chest, squeezing tight to hold on to her courage.
“Snow Raven.”
“That is not a name for a woman.” He frowned as he swept her with his gaze. “But it suits you, for you are not like any woman I have ever met. You are causing trouble, you know. No one knows what to do with you. Some say you will steal a horse and run, but then we would catch you and you would die.”
She squeezed her eyes shut at the images now assaulting her mind.
“Ah,” he said. “So you do feel fear. For a time I thought you were immune to such emotions.”
She looked at him now. “A warrior does not admit to fear.”
“But a woman does. She cries and uses her tears to gather sympathy. Yet you do not.”
“Would that work?”
“It would make you less interesting. And you are very interesting.”
“I do not want your interest.”
He laughed. “Then you should not have unseated one of my warriors.”
AUTHOR NOTE (#u788af762-822e-5658-9c79-628a81d66882)
From the moment Snow Raven came charging into my first scene on her white horse I have been in love with this character. My heroine is the daughter of a Crow chief and is bright, stoic and brave—even after being captured by her enemies. At first she wants only to survive until she is rescued. But when faced with the needs of her fellow captives she grows into a warrior, forgoing her own happiness to win their freedom.
My hero, Running Wolf, is the war chief of his Sioux tribe and an enemy to the Crow people. Running Wolf is at first intrigued, then confounded, and later fascinated by the captive Snow Raven. They both resist a love that will cost them all. He must lead his people and protect them from their enemies, while she must try to bring her people home. What chance does love have when pitted against duty?
I had a wonderful time writing about two Native characters who lived on the North American Plains in a time after the Spanish and before the Americans came to challenge their dominance. The research for this story was a joy—especially learning all I could on earning coup feathers. When I discovered that a woman could become a warrior I was thrilled.
If you would like more details on this story be sure to visit my website for Behind the Story.
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Running Wolf
Jenna Kernan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Award-winning author JENNA KERNAN writes fast-paced Western and paranormal romantic adventures. She has penned over two dozen novels, has received two RITA nominations, and in 2010 won the Book Buyers Best Award for her debut paranormal romance. Jenna loves an adventure. Her hobbies include recreational gold-prospecting, scuba diving and gem-hunting.
Follow Jenna on Twitter @jennakernan (http://twitter.com/jennakernan), on Facebook or at www.jennakernan.com (http://www.jennakernan.com)
For Jim, always.
Contents
Cover (#ud90cd29a-059e-52b8-afad-c36514144e6f)
Excerpt (#u7622ac44-c07e-5a29-a757-e4b2e174f1aa)
AUTHOR NOTE
Title Page (#uf5d1eb5a-254e-5193-96a6-2aa3ee41f471)
About the Author (#u6f92753f-7be1-5ed8-9978-559736194c4b)
Dedication (#u0c65b7e4-f83d-5de9-92de-c31077c563f0)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u788af762-822e-5658-9c79-628a81d66882)
Snow Raven raced her gray dappled mustang, Song, along the lakeshore, her horse’s powerful muscles rippling with each long stride. She loved how she and Song moved together, how the air rushed against her face and lifted her hair. Her father said that riding was the closest that a person ever came to flying.
This was the very reason Raven did not wear her hair in twin braids like the women of her tribe, but neither did she quite dare to wear it as her father and brother did. The warriors cut their forelock short and used grease and pitch to make the hairs stand up as stiff as a porcupine’s quills. Instead, Raven made her own style and had wound narrow braids at her temples and wrapped them in ermine that was decorated with shell beads and quillwork like the men. The rest of her hair she left loose and as wild as the mane of her mustang. Her dress was also a mixture, shorter than a woman’s, made from a single buckskin like a man’s, but for modesty and comfort she wore both loincloth and leggings beneath.
Raven wore a skinning knife about her neck, as most females in her tribe did, but she also carried a deerskin quiver from the six-point buck she had felled when she was eight. Within, metal-tipped arrows waited, ready. She carried her strung bow looped over her back. The taut string, fitted between her breasts, revealed her curves.
Raven knew that more than one woman objected to her hunting, but they never said so to her face and they did not turn down the meat. As for the men, her position as the chief’s daughter insured that she had no shortage of suitors, just a shortage of suitors who interested her. Hunting and riding were more appealing.
Now she sought to catch her older brother, Bright Arrow, who had somehow managed to leave camp without her knowing. His stealth was only one of the qualities that she admired. Up ahead the party of warriors turned at the sound of her approach. There was Little Badger, Turns Too Slowly and her brother. Little Badger grinned with pleasure at her appearance, but her brother did not. In fact, he did not even slow his big blue roan stallion, Hail. It was only now, when she drew close, that she saw her brother did not carry his bow, but his lance. Were they raiding already?
“I could have shot you,” said Turns Too Slowly, realizing belatedly that he had not even reached for his bow.
“What are you doing, Raven?” Bright Arrow asked, his voice so stern he reminded her of their father, Six Elks.
“I thought you were hunting elk,” she said, already aware of her mistake.
Her offer was met with silence. Finally Turns Too Slowly spoke.
“This is no hunt.”
“We are scouting for Sioux,” said Little Badger.
Her eyes widened and excitement and fear rolled in her belly until they were blended like berry juice in water. She had not seen a Sioux snake since the attack when she was only seven.
“Have you seen any?”
Her brother raised his hand, halting Little Badger, who was about to answer.
Her brother’s scowl deepened. “This is their territory. It is wise to be certain we are alone. If they are here we must prepare to fight.”
Was that a yes or a no?
“Did Father send you?”
“Go home, Little Warrior.” Her brother now made her childhood name sound like an insult.
She stayed where she was, toying with the leather fringe on the pommel she had made with the help of her grandmother, Truthful Woman. “I will help you scout.”
“You will not.”
Since word had come of the raids against their people by the Sioux, he was not so forgiving of her insistence to leave the camp.
“I can track game better than Little Badger and hear better than Turns Too Slowly,” she said, unable to keep the belligerence from her voice.
“And ride better than all three of us, I suppose,” said Turns Too Slowly.
“Yes.”
Turns Too Slowly gestured toward camp. “So prove it by riding that way.”
Her brother was more to the point. “Do you know what they do to female captives?” he asked. His voice held a note of irritation. She knew. The enemy would disgrace her, take her freedom, give her all the hardest work and worst food. Still, she lifted her chin. “I am not afraid of the snake people. I would kill them first.”
“Brave words, but better still, ride home where you are safe,” he said. His tone changed, now quiet, respectful with just a note of desperation. “If you are here, I have to worry over your safety.”
She wished they could stay in their mountains instead of moving east into the territory of the Sioux with the endless grass. But the whites had built a fort and then sickness had taken so many. Her father, their chief, had moved them here, thinking it better to face an enemy they could see.
She looked over her shoulder at the way she had come. Back there she knew the women were tending cooking fires, gathering wood and gutting fish caught on the trawl lines. She looked forward at the blue lake glimmering through the trees and the forest thick with brush.
Her heart tugged, whispering for her to ride.
“We will take you back,” he said, turning his horse.
She did not want to be escorted to camp like some wandering child. She could take care of herself. Hadn’t she killed a deer, elk and pronghorn? Hadn’t she skinned them and dressed them and carried them home over her horse’s withers?
Bright Arrow did not wait for her to reply but pressed his horse forward.
As he passed her, he said, “You’ll be safe there.”
She did not want to be safe. She wanted to be a warrior like her brother. His hands were tough and smelled of leather, instead of stinking of fish.
“I’ll take her,” said Little Badger.
Bright Arrow eyed his fellow. “And leave us one weaker?”
