Wolf’s Mate: Paranormal Menage Protector Romance

by Lilly Wilder

  “I said,” the slick-haired, smile-adorned guy leans a little closer to me, and his cologne floods down my nostrils and my throat, as he speaks, “looks like your posse left you hanging!”

  “Oh,” I nod, instinctively moving a little back. “Yeah. They’re just having fun.”

  I’m about to turn my back to him again, a subtle effort at nipping whatever this is in the bud, but he won’t have it.

  “Are you?” I hear him ask.

  “Am I what?”

  “Having fun?”

  My body turns fully to him now. I even slide my drink to my right side, so I can reach it easily, without turning away from him. He’s not that bad looking. Slightly rugged, rocking that 3 day old beard like he just forgot to shave and doesn’t care. I’m guessing he’s a little hot in that black leather jacket, but guys, just like girls, are willing to sacrifice comfort for looking good. Underneath the jacket, I see the faint outlines of a Nirvana t-shirt. So, we got a rebel on our hands.

  “I’m alright,” I reply. “You?” I ask, not really because I’m desperate to prolong this conversation, but out of sheer politeness. He hasn’t started off with a lame pick up line, and that counts for something, too.

  “I am, but I don’t like seeing a beautiful woman alone at a bar. Just seems wrong to me.”

  “Does it now?” I chuckle.

  The music has gotten more bearable, and we can have an actual conversation without invading too much of our personal space.

  “What are you drinking?”

  “A Manhattan,” I tell him.

  He immediately signals at the bartender to bring me another one.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him, now looking at two glasses of drinks I might not finish.

  “I only have to do one thing, and that is die,” he grins, “eventually. Everything else I do is led by pure desire.”

  “At least you’re honest about it,” I can’t help but join in this little flirting.

  “Why lie?” he shrugs. “We’re all animals. Only, some are better at hiding it than others.”

  “Homo homini lupus est?” I smirk, remembering the little Latin I had back in high school, and the only proverb that stuck for some reason.

  He frowns a little, tilting his head to the left side. He takes a long, drawn out inhale through his nostrils, which expand abnormally for just one single moment. Then, his lips purse, as his nostrils take their normal form again. It all happened so quickly, that I’m left wondering if I just imagined seeing that.

  “Not many girls can quote Latin,” he says, those grey eyes taking over a depth that hasn’t been there before. “And, good Latin. What other surprises have you got hiding in that pretty little head of yours?”

  He gets so close to me, that the very fragrance of his cologne makes me woozy. Immediately, I remember all those horror stories about guys drugging the girls they meet at bars by putting something in their drinks, but I’m sure that he hasn’t touched mine. Still, why am I feeling like I’m drunk after half a Manhattan?

  “I don’t reveal that after just one drink,” I hear myself chuckle, but it’s like it’s not me, like I’m hearing myself from some deep cave and my voice is all distorted.

  “More drinks could be arranged,” his grin has turned into a sneer.

  His eyes are leering, and his fangs seem to have grown longer. But, it can’t be. People can’t grow their teeth. I just haven’t noticed them before, because I haven’t been looking at him closely enough.

  “Thank you, but I plan on finishing the one I ordered for myself, and heading on home,” I manage to mutter, fighting off a wave of tiredness.

  I feel like I could lie down on the ground, close my eyes and just fall asleep. I’ve never felt this before, and it’s alarming. Something’s not right. I look around, looking for either Tina or Nicky, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

  “Looking for someone?” he asks.

  “Yeah, my posse, as you called them.”

  “Want me to help you look for them?”

  His offer catches me off guard. I don’t know why he’s so insisting. Usually, guys can sense when you’re not interested and most of them leave you alone. This one, however, isn’t giving up, so more serious measures are obviously needed.

  “Listen - “

  “Sven.”

  “Sven?” I repeat, with a smile that threatens to give him more hope.

  “Nordic parents,” he shrugs, and that leather jacket follows suit.

  “Of course, Sven,” I continue, “you seem like a nice guy and everything, but I’ve had a super busy week, and I just want to find my friends, so I can say goodbye and head on home.”

  I’ve lost all desire for that drink that still stared at me from the bar. I just want to cuddle in my new bed and read my book before bedtime.

  “You put it very nicely,” he replies with a smile that shows no threat, but those fangs still seem longer than before, and that dizziness inside my head isn’t letting go. “So, I won’t bother you. Just wanted to help you out, in case you needed it. But, you obviously don’t.”

  I don’t say anything to that, but I’m glad this won’t end in drama. Hopefully, I’ll be home, locking the doors to my new place in less than half an hour.

  “Can I just… no, sorry… it’s stupid.”

  “What is it?” I ask, feeling a little guilty. He did back down immediately when I asked him to.

  “I just wanted to give you a hug.”

  I think about it for a moment or two, but I already see him leaning in with open arms, so I give in. The hug lasts a little longer than I would have liked it to, but once he lets go, I smile, wave awkwardly, and disappear in the crowd, thanking my lucky stars I got out of that one so easily.

  I find Nicky all over her new guy, and I have to poke her on the shoulder. She turns and is surprised to see me. I lean in to tell her I’m heading home.

  “Home?” she shouts. “No! Stay!”

  I shake my head, patting my watch, pretending it’s already too late. I give her a peck on the cheek.

  “You’ll be fine?” she shouts again, and I just nod once more.

  I do the same with Tina, only she’s even more reluctant to let me go home alone, but I see that she also found some entertainment for tonight, and I don’t want to ruin anyone’s good time. I hug her as well, and head on out.

  Once feeling the fresh air around me again, I inhale deeply. I slide my purse from my right shoulder, and open it easily. Nicky has mentioned it a few times that the clasp is too loose and it can be opened way too easily, even by someone who isn’t trying all that hard. But, it’s a bag that belonged to my mother, so I’m not changing it. Not like I don’t have several expensive ones gathering dust in my closet. But, they’re nowhere near as valuable as this one.

  I fumble inside, trying to find my phone. After a few scoops with my hand, I still end up with nothing apart from my wallet and keys. My bags and purses are never full of shit, like it’s the case with Nicky’s bags, where you can even find living breathing things in there. Mine are usually light and with just a few basic necessities. On this particular night, I made sure not to take anything, apart from those 3. Now, I realize I have only two.

  Confused, I take out my wallet and check the insides. Everything’s there. Some cash, my cards, a few notes. Nothing is missing. I hear my keys jangle inside, so I take those out, too. I look inside, and see only emptiness. My phone is gone. I put the keys and the wallet inside, and rake my fingers through my hair, breathing in deeply.

  Did I leave it anywhere? Did I even take it with me? I have a vague recollection of putting it inside with the other things, but that’s as reliable as being sure I locked the front door every time I went out. It’s an instinctual action, one I rarely do focused, so it’s difficult to remember if I really did it this time. But, one is sure. My phone isn’t on me. I’ll go home and check if it’s there. If it’s not, I’ll just remotely swit
ch it off and try to find it. However, I still have to get home, and with a dozen people outside, waiting for a cab, it’ll be tricky getting one.

  With the corner of my eye, I see someone’s cigarette light up in the opposite alleyway, so I look up. I see Sven, who isn’t looking my way, or at least seems like he isn’t. A moment later, and our eyes meet. He smiles, hesitates, and then walks over to me.

  “I’m really not stalking you,” he tells me.

  I’m not sure if I believe that. “Oh really?” I smile.

  “Just went out for a smoke. My friends are back in, found some girls. You know how it goes.”

  “Mhm,” I nod.

  “Everything OK? You look… I don’t know. A little freaked out. Is it me?” he takes a step back. “If it is, I’ll just leave you alone. I know how this looks. First we talked, you blew me off, and now I’m here, outside, at the same time you are.”

  “No, no,” I shake my head. “It’s not you. I think I lost my phone.”

  “Here?”

  “It’s either that or I left it at home.”

  “Let’s hope it’s that.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh. “But, at this rate, I’ll never catch a cab, and can’t call an Uber.”

  “You want a ride?”

  The moment he asks that, I realize he’s regretted it. I appreciate it, but I’m not in the habit of going with guys I just met and letting them drive me wherever. My parents taught me better than that.

  “Sorry, just trying to be nice.”

  “I know,” I manage a smile. “And, I appreciate it. I really do. But, maybe you could just lend me your phone so I can call a cab or an Uber?”

  “Absolutely.” He quickly reaches into his pocket and extracts a small, thin silver phone. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.”

  I call an Uber, and it tells me it should arrive in less than 10 minutes. The guy who answered didn’t mind when I explained the situation, saying I’m not using my own account and will be paying cash, instead of being charged to my account. I hang up the phone and give it back to Sven.

  “You know, we’ve been talking all this time, and I still don’t know your name,” he suddenly tells me, throwing away the butt of his cigarette and stepping on it with the tip of his shoes.

  “It’s Maddie,” I offer him my hand. I guess, it doesn’t matter anymore. We’ll be strangers again in ten minutes or less.

  “Nice to meet you, Maddie,” he shakes it. “You know, I almost feel bad I have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  I immediately let go of his hand. The flicker in his eyes has become ominous, threatening. I haven’t been threatened many times in my life, but I know the feeling. It’s instinctual. You can recognize a sense of danger even if you’ve never been in one.

  I see him looking over my shoulder, and I realize that the sounds around us have died down. There aren’t many people around, if any. It’s a dark alley, with no traffic, no people. I could be swallowed by the dark and no one would be any wiser.

  I feel my throat getting parched, and I take a step back.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he shakes his index finger at me. “My friends are with your girlfriends, and all it takes is one sign from me, and they’ll hurt them.”

  His words ring in my ear, like an echo of a horrible song.

  “What do you want from me?” I muster.

  “I want you to take a ride with me,” he says calmly.

  His hands are empty. He has no weapon, no gun, and no knife. I could just run away, run back in or down the street. But, I don’t do any of those things. I’m frozen in place, unable to move. It’s like he’s keeping me in place with his stare alone.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “If I tell you that, I’ll have to kill you,” he grins, and I notice his fangs are shiny and pointy, like a wolf’s. His square jaw protrudes, as his smirk becomes more hostile. “And, I really don’t want to hurt you, unless I have to.”

  He takes a step closer to me. I want to move back, but I can’t. He’s so close to me now, his teeth bared right in the soft area of my neck. Images of Count Dracula are evoked in my mind, and I expect him to dig into me any second. But, he doesn’t. My fingers tremble as he takes my hand into his, interlocking our fingers.

  “See? Your own body doesn’t want to listen to you. It’s listening to me,” he whispers. “It knows that you won’t run away, because you don’t want to.”

  My heart is beating like crazy, and I have no idea why I’m still here, why I’m not back inside, screaming for help. My legs aren’t my own anymore. My mind has been invaded by this monster from the dark. Against all common sense, I take a step closer to him, and it feels like the most natural thing to do. My nostrils are filled with a musky, masculine scent, and I feel it infiltrating every inch of the insides of my body, while he just keeps grinning at me, whispering in some silent, unknown language that doesn’t seem to spill out of his lips, but emanates from somewhere inside of me.

  “My car is over there,” I hear him say.

  I don’t follow. I float, like a balloon, my steps as light as air, as this stranger takes me to his car, and my body can’t do anything but comply.

  CHAPTER 3

  I must have dozed off, and my head bumping against the car window wakes me up. I look outside, and recognize no landmarks of the city, which I grew up in. All I see are vast fields of nothing, that seem to merge with the endless sky somewhere in the distance, and even if there was a chance of me running away, I wonder where I would run.

  I swallow heavily, as I lean back into the car seat. I can breathe more clearly now, my nose feels freed from that oppressive smell that lingered back in the alleyway. Instinctively, I try the door, but of course, it’s locked. I hear a chuckle from the driver’s seat.

  “You don’t think it would be that easy, do you, princess?”

  I don’t need to look up at the rearview mirror to recognize that voice. It is the voice that will never leave my mind, no matter how hard I try, the voice that will continue to ring on through my nightmares probably for as long as I’m alive.

  His eyes glisten in the darkness, the grey hue becoming even lighter now. He occasionally looks up to checks on me, but doesn’t say much else. I rest my trembling hand on my thighs, trying to calm my breathing. When we stop somewhere and he opens the car door, I could push him away and just run. Run anywhere, it doesn’t matter. Anywhere is safer than with this lunatic, whoever he is. I don’t want to stick around to find out why he has me in a car or where he’s taking me.

  But, I eventually do. Our ride is short, and he stops in front of some old, military-looking, abandoned facility. There is not a single soul alive here. The silence echoes in the trees, and I know that, even if I shouted at the top of my voice, no one will hear me, no one will come to my rescue.

  Still sitting in the driver’s seat, he turns to me and throws a pair of metallic handcuffs into my lap, which are as cold as his glare.

  “Put them on,” he instructs, as if I’ve done this a million times before and I know exactly how one puts on handcuffs.

  Slowly, my fingers barely able to unclasp and open them up, I secure one side to my left wrist first, then with some slight maneuvering, I attach my other wrist, with an equal sound of lost freedom. I lift my hands up in the air for him to see.

  “Good girl,” he smirks. “I’ll make sure to tell your father you’ve been most cooperative.”

  “My father?” I whisper, but he’s already out of the car and walking over to my side to open the door.

  He helps me out surprisingly gently, then gestures at me to walk towards the dilapidated building in front of us.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, even though I realize how futile that question is.

  “You just keep being a good girl, and no harm will come to you,” he explains, answering my second, unspoken question. “That also depends on how your father reacts
to my deal.”

  “What deal?” I cry as he pushes me inside the dark engulfed building, and I expect monster hands from all sides reaching at me, threatening to tear me apart. But, no hands attack me and instead, Sven just turns on the light.

  The place is empty, apart from a few cardboard boxes in the corner, and a table with a single chair right in the middle of the big, cement-floored room.

  “Take a seat there,” he urges me.

  He watches me fulfil his command with a steady gaze. His hand reaches into his pocket, and extracts a box of half empty cigarettes. He takes out one and lights it up. Once he’s seen me sit down, he walks over to the other end of the table. His hand once again dives into his left pocket, and this time, what surfaces isn’t cigarettes. It’s my phone. Eyes wide open, I stare at my phone, then him, then back at my phone again.

  “I had to make sure that you didn’t call for help,” he explains, as if we’re discussing the weather and he’s wondering whether he should bring an umbrella tomorrow, because it might rain.

  My blood runs cold listening to him. How many times has he done something like this? He probably wants to call my father to ask for ransom money. Despite what my father thinks, I remember what happened when I was 4 years old. They’re just snippets in my mind, and sometimes, it feels like it happened to someone else. I guess, that’s how the brain copes with the fact that I was moments away from being taken away from my parents and everything I knew. I was playing on the swings, while my mother was watching me. As they say, all it takes is a single moment of no one paying attention, and tragedy can happen. The man had a long coat, which smelled like tobacco, like it was growing in his inside pockets. His hands were stained yellow. They were rough, coarse. When he grabbed me by the wrist, he almost scratched me. The car he was pulling me towards was bright red, like those balloons little kids get at fairs. I remember not even realizing what was happening. Then, my mother screamed. Then, commotion. The coarse hand let go of me, and I lost sight of the bright red car, once I was back in my mother’s safe arms.

  We never spoke of that, none of us. I guess my parents believed I was too young to remember, and there was no point in stirring old memories that might trigger trauma. It’s better to keep them buried. Even now, after all these years, when these images come flooding back, I can almost fully convince myself that it happened to someone else. But, that tiny voice in the back of my mind knows. And, it doesn't even shut up.