Wolf’s Mate: Paranormal Menage Protector Romance

by Lilly Wilder

  I watch as the blood trickles out of his wound, and I know he’s a goner. I’ve hit the artery, even though I had no idea where I was stabbing.

  “Sometimes…” I hear Fynn try to say, “we have more luck than brains…”

  He coughs immediately after, but he manages to get up. I check his neck. I need to remove his thick fur to see the bite marks.

  “Does it hurt?” I ask.

  “A little,” he admits. “But, he didn’t have the good luck you had.”

  I smile. His muzzle looks so weird. And the words that he’s saying sound a little distorted, but I understand him.

  At that moment, I remember Anderson, and I turn to him. Sven is lying on the ground. He looks unconscious. Anderson is breathing heavily, already having transformed back into his human form.

  “Come on, grandpa,” Anderson laughs, mocking Fynn. “Don’t tell me that bastard almost got you?”

  He walks over to Fynn, and rubs his hand through Fynn’s fur, which is now slightly stained with blood.

  “That’s a nasty bite, but you’ll live,” he assures him. “Now, what am I going to wear in public?”

  It’s only then that I realize that Anderson is butt naked. Their transformation made them tear their clothes off their backs, so they had nothing to put on. Fynn slowly transforms back, and I try not to show how uneasy that crackling sound makes me. But, I can’t hide it.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Anderson smiles.

  “Does it hurt?” I ask.

  “Like a motherfucker,” he chuckles. “That’s why we only do it when it’s necessary. Never just for fun or for show.”

  “You… did it for me?” I manage to whisper.

  Fynn joins our intimate little circle, and I don’t even mind that both of them are naked. It doesn’t take away from the sanctity of the moment.

  “We’d do anything for you,” Fynn says this time. “Haven’t you figured that out already?”

  At the same time, we all spread our arms around one another, and we remain like that hugging, for a long time. Then, I suddenly remember.

  “But… my father?” I take a step back, the first to break our hug. “We can’t ask them now where he is.”

  All three of us look at the two dead bodies lying in front of us.

  “Dead men tell no secrets,” Anderson reminds us.

  “How am I going to find out where my father is now?”

  I am overcome with all the emotions, and I drop down to my knees, bursting out into tears. I’m sobbing uncontrollably, and Anderson is the first to wrap his arms around me. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what, and neither do I. I just know that I survived, but at the expense of my father’s life. I wanted at least one more moment, just one, just to tell him that I don’t think he is to blame for anything that’s happened. We can’t be held responsible for what other people do. We can only get entangled into it.

  “Wait,” Fynn suddenly says.

  I know the sound of that voice. I know that tone. I’ve gotten to know him enough to recognize when he’s on the verge of something, something important.

  “What is it?” I stop crying, taking my hands off my face. Anderson also releases me from his embrace.

  “Where was that house?” Fynn asks, looking like he got lost in his own thoughts, but he is trying to let us in.

  “What house?” Anderson interferes.

  “The one we burned down, with Kayne in it,” Fynn reminds him. “Where was it?”

  “Wait,” Anderson taps his chin with the tips of his fingers in an effort to remember. “Wasn’t it by the boondocks?”

  “I can’t remember. Are you sure?”

  “Not a hundred percent, but it’s as good a guess as any,” Anderson shrugs. “Why?”

  “Well, Kayne was obsessed with revenge, wasn’t he?” He pauses, allowing us to nod quickly. “He did all of this because he wanted to get back at Hugo, and at us. So, there is only one logical place where he would leave him.”

  “You don’t mean – “

  “Yeah,” Fynn nods gravely. “We need to get to that house. Now.”

  Chapter 24

  “Are you sure my dad’s there?” I ask, sitting on the backseat of the fast moving car.

  Anderson is driving, and I can see the tight grip of his hands on the steering wheel. He wants to get us there as soon as possible, and I fear that every second counts. That is, if my father is even there, which is something we can’t be sure of.

  “That’s my best guess,” Fynn replies in his usual nothing-is-certain manner. “If he isn’t there, then I really don’t know where he could be. But, knowing Kayne, that’s not only a possibility, but a probability.”

  I know this is as hopeful as his words would ever get, and I’m grateful for them. I huddle in the backseat, wishing for a blanket, but my body is still functioning under the strain of the adrenaline rush, and I don’t even feel the chill of the night.

  We drive in silence, each of us lost in their own thoughts, fighting our own demons. Somehow, I feel like there are less of mine. This nightmare is almost over. The persons who were responsible for this will never be brought to justice, but at least they will never do any harm again. That in itself is a solace of some sort.

  As for my father, that lack of knowledge still bears heavily upon my soul. I look out the window, into the darkness, and wonder if that is what he sees if he is still alive. Is he breathing his last breath? Is he breathing at all?

  All those questions are pressing onto my soul heavily. I feel like the burden of the world is on my back. I want to know. That’s all I want. Even if the knowledge will bring me more pain, but anything is better than not knowing.

  The drive is endless. We all shake and rattle on the dirt road that seems to take us into more darkness. A part of me wonders if this darkness will ever end, or will it just continue indefinitely?

  Finally, the car stops. The bright lights are on, but I can’t see anything in front of us. Just pure, unadulterated darkness that seems to mock our efforts at finding what we are looking for.

  “We’re here,” Fynn informs us, even though it’s unnecessary.

  Still, no one gets out of the car. Not yet. My legs seem frozen. I’m petrified with the possibility that my father isn’t here. Because, if we don’t find him here, than he could be anywhere in the entire world, and he could be waiting for me to come and get him. The thought of him waiting somewhere, hurt and alone, brings tears to my eyes.

  At that moment, Anderson turns to me. “Hey,” his voice is soft and gentle, as always. Nothing changes it, and that constant returns some of my courage. “We’ll find him.”

  “You can’t promise that,” I hear myself say, surprising everyone in the car.

  “You also can’t not promise,” Fynn adds, and I chuckle against all conscious effort not to do so.

  I sigh and without thinking, open the door and jump out. The guys immediately do the same. For a moment, we’re in obscure darkness, the lights of the car gone. Fynn takes out a flashlight, and switches it on. It beams a long line of luminous path, like an angelic messenger. He aims it at something in the distance. I try to focus my eyes on it, but it’s too far away. It’s one of those things you see only if you know what you are looking for.

  “There,” Fynn points his index finger in the direction of the flashlight. “That’s the house.”

  “Technically, it’s not a house anymore,” Anderson corrects.

  He walks over to me. I hear his feet grinding the gravel. It feels soothing to know he’s around, to know they’re both around, and I don’t have to go through this alone.

  “Two of the outer walls are still standing tall,” Anderson explains. “At least, they were the last time I was there.”

  “You went there?” Fynn asks.

  “Just passing by,” Anderson quickly replies, not wanting to elaborate more, and Fynn doesn’t push him. “But everything else is grounded. There
’s nothing left.”

  “If there’s nothing left, then why are we going there?” I suddenly interfere. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “You see, that house was special,” Fynn explains, as we slowly start to walk over to the subject of our conversation. “It was used in the old days as a safe house for runaway slaves. Of course, that was a long time ago, but anyone who’s ever been inside and knows what the house was used for, knows the outline of it. And, even though the upper, ground level is reduced to cinder, there is still an underground part. I think that’s how Kayne managed to escape. We neglected to cover it, and, you know the rest.”

  “So, you think he was keeping my dad somewhere in the basement?” I wonder.

  The crickets are loud, much louder than my thoughts, which are swarming inside of me like angry bees. I walk slowly, each step more insecure than the previous one. But, I still follow. There is no other path but this one.

  “It’s more of a whole underground level,” Anderson takes over. “There is a big room underground, and tunnels that led away from the house. We thought that the tunnels were closed. There was an implosion of the ground at some point, and the tunnels were off limits. But, we didn’t check it when… you know.”

  I can’t see him clearly, but I know what he is doing. He is raking his fingers through his hair, nervously, trying to calm himself down.

  “That’s why we need to check the bottom level of the house,” Fynn concludes.

  “That sounds hopeful,” I say it out loud, expecting that this will make it more believable.

  “It’s our only shot,” Fynn adds.

  “It’s our best shot,” Anderson chimes in as well.

  I know they’re on my side, and each of them, in his own special way, is trying to convince me to be strong and not to give up, no matter what we find there. Or, what we don’t find.

  It takes us a few more steps to the house. It is still as Anderson claimed it. Two walls still stand strong, perched together by a corner. They’re just naked brick, with a single hole in them that once used to be a window. I’m guessing that it probably had a lovely view, one that whoever watched through, enjoyed. But now, all it shows is obscurity.

  “Where is the cellar?” I look around, following Fynn’s flashlight. “Will we be able to find it in the dark?”

  “We can’t wait until daytime,” Fynn replies. “If he’s here, and if he’s wounded, he might not have hours to go.”

  That thought breaks me. But, I try to focus on the good and remain positive.

  “There’s too much rubble on the floor,” Fynn snorts. “It’s impossible to find a door that’s kept hidden even in the daytime.”

  “Then try!” I hear myself shout, even though that’s not what I intended.

  The flashlight flickers for a moment, as if Fynn’s hand trembled upon hearing me raise my voice.

  “Sorry, I – “

  But, I’m not allowed to finish. I feel Anderson’s hand around my shoulders and his voice in my ear.

  “It’s fine,” he soothes me. “Just let it out if you need to. We’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”

  My lips quiver, and I bite on my lower lip to calm down.

  “This was the main room,” I hear Fynn talk, and it sounds like he’s talking to himself. “The entrance door was there.” The flashlight points in the opposite direction. “The Southern window was there. And, the trap door was just through the fireplace.”

  I listen to his words, filled with hope. The flashlight tells his story, and I pray to God that he is right, that his memory serves him well. He runs over to one of the standing walls and gets down to his knees. I only notice the Moonlight at this point, and it seems like it’s starting to burn brighter, as if the Moon itself wants us to find our path, it doesn’t want us to stay lost.

  I can see outlines of the men with me, Fynn’s crouching body, as the flashlight points at the floor which he is so frantically trying to clear. I hear commotion, rubble being thrown to the side, the rolling of small pebbles and crackling of dried out branches.

  “There!” Fynn shouts victoriously.

  Anderson and I run over to help him.

  “Help me with this!” Fynn instructs us, pointing the flashlight at a wooden door in the floor, which has something akin to a brass door knocker. I remember those from our old weekend house in the mountains, the one dad had to sell at some point, because it reminded him of mom too much. But, the door was the same.

  Anderson grabs the door knocker, and Fynn tries the sides. They both grunt with exasperation, and it takes them three tries to finally open it. The door unfastens with a loud screeching sound, and a huge cloud of dust escapes it, making all of us cough.

  “How do we get down?” I dare to look into the hold, but without Fynn’s flashlight, I can’t see anything.

  “There should be a ladder or something,” Anderson tells me.

  The flashlight reveals exactly that. It looks old and worn out, unsafe to climb, but that won’t stop me. I adjust myself to go inside, but Fynn grabs me by the elbow.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he snarls. “Are you crazy? We don’t know what or who’s in there.”

  “My dad?”

  “I’ll go down, and if I need help, I’ll call for Anderson,” he orders me. “You stay here and don’t move.”

  I open my mouth to object, but nothing comes out. Instead, I exhale loudly, and obey. My silly ideas have gotten us here. If I hadn’t made him take a walk with me, they wouldn’t have taken Anderson in the first place. Perhaps it’s best just to do as I’m told this time.

  Fynn goes down, and I huddle close to Anderson, as we remain in darkness.

  “Are you scared?” he asks me.

  “Only that my father might not be here.”

  “If he’s not here, we’ll look for him elsewhere. He has to be somewhere. And, we’ll find him. I promise.”

  I lean over and rest my head on his shoulder. Without anticipating it, I feel his lips on my forehead as he plants a soft kiss on it. My heart flutters like a butterfly’s wings, soft at first, then with a strength to move mountains.

  “I need help over here!” Fynn suddenly shouts from inside.

  Anderson immediately jumps into the hole, not even looking where exactly he’s stepping. I hear a blaring thud noise as he drops to the ground, then the rushing of footsteps. The resonances of commotion reach me, but no matter how hard I peer into the darkness, I see nothing.

  “Did you find him?” I shout into the hole, hearing my own echo.

  Instead of a reply, the flashlight appears, shining through the hole, then upward in my direction.

  “Can you lower yourself a little into the hole?” Fynn asks. “We need you to grab his hands, then pull as hard as you can!”

  My mind goes blank. “You found him!?”

  “Just pull him up!” Fynn repeats, and I immediately do as I’m told.

  I reach into the hole, and the flashlight illuminates my father’s slumbering face.

  “Is he alright!?” I whimper, as I grab his arms, and start pulling up with all my might.

  No one replies. We’re all huffing, grunting, moaning, and trying to get my father out of the black hole he was in. It takes us a while, but finally we manage to do it.

  I adjust my father’s body onto the dirty floor, and immediately reach for his pulse. I can barely feel it, but it’s still there.

  “He’s alive,” I whisper, overwhelmed with joy and relief.

  “He needs to go to the hospital,” Fynn neglects what I said. “Now.”

  The flashlight points at his stomach. His shirt is stained with caked blood. There is so much of it.

  “Let’s get him to the car,” Anderson urges us.

  Fynn and Anderson manage to prop my father up on his feet, with his hands over each of their shoulders. We walk back to the car slowly, dragging my father’s unconscious body, as I run around them, feeling like
there is nothing I can do but burst out into tears. But, that would only make things worse.

  We found him – that’s what matters. Now, we need to focus on getting him to the hospital on time, and saving his life.

  Chapter 25

  The white lights of the hospital are too bright. My eyes hurt and my whole body is aching for a good night’s rest, but I know that even if I lay down, I won’t be able to fall asleep. Not while my father is lying in a hospital bed, with all those tubes sticking out of his body, tying him up to the machines.

  “Want me to go get you another coffee?” I hear Anderson offer, as he gets up from his seat.

  Fynn is sitting opposite us, his head buried in his hands. To some passer-by, it looks like he might be sleeping, but I know he’s not.

  “Their coffee’s crap,” I mumble. “But, yeah, I want one.”

  He smiles at me, squeezes my shoulder gently, and then walks away. The images of seeing my dad dragged out of that hole in the ground, barely alive, will haunt me for as long as I’m living. I know that. But, all I need is for him to stay with me, so I can build more memories, and so I can forgive him. So, I can forgive myself.

  I get up and walk over to Fynn. He doesn’t lift his gaze, even though he knows I’m sitting next to him.

  “We found him,” I tell him, as if it’s news and he has no idea.

  Only now does he look up at me. “But, look at the condition we found him in.”

  “My dad is a tough guy,” I smile, trying to convince us both of this. “He’ll make it.”

  “We were supposed to make sure this didn’t happen,” Fynn tells me.

  “Listen to me now,” I suddenly take his hands into mine forcefully, like I’m taking back something that was always mine, but he only held it for a little while. “This isn’t your fault. It’s not. You did exactly what you were supposed to do and exactly how you were supposed to do it. It’s only thanks to you and Anderson that I’m alive, that my dad is finally safe in a hospital, and he can start healing.”