by Ariel Lei
Courtney took a small step back, her eyes wide with fright. Shit. Mason dragged a hand down his face. He sucked in a deep breath, and shut his eyes, trying to rein in his wolf.
“Leave before I do something I’ll regret,” he ordered in a low voice. As soon as her footsteps disappeared out of the room, he opened his eyes and dropped down onto the settee.
He hadn’t meant to lose his temper. But he’d known in his heart that Courtney was right, and that was why he’d lost it so fast. He didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t really given Neoma a fair choice. She didn’t know him. And he’d done nothing to gain her trust. She’d followed her heart, going with the choice she thought would protect her Pack and lead her to safety. Had Mason been given the same two choices under the same circumstances, he, too, would have tried to escape.
He guessed it was for the best that she was leaving soon. Because once he killed her father, he knew she’d forever hate him.
Chapter Eleven.
Mason.
“Shift,” Mason ordered the young pups in training. They were sixteen and the newest werewolves to shift in his Pack. As soon as a male werewolf shifted for the first time at sixteen, they started training, so they knew how to fight in order to protect the Pack. “Get changed.”
He looked up at the full moon. It cast a sliver glow down on the forest around them, illuminating the trees. With his werewolf sight, he didn’t need any light to see in the darkness. Although he couldn’t see colour, his wolf vision was very motion sensitive, and could be turned on and off at will when in human form.
He’d just finished training the pups how to defend themselves at night. With the full moon being out, werewolf senses were sharper, so it was a good time to train. It heightened more than their senses though. Like their need for blood, making the urge to hunt far more powerful. It also heightened their sexual needs. This wasn’t always a good thing though. It made resisting certain desires harder.
It had been three days now since Mason had last seen Neoma, and his wolf was restless with the need to mate with her. Mason wanted Neoma like a drug addict needed his next fix. It was driving him crazy.
“Come on, let’s get back,” he muttered, trying to clear his thoughts. He started making his way through the forest back towards the village.
“That went well,” Jake said. Mason gave him a sideways glance.
“Yes. They did well,” he agreed. He knew he’d worked them hard. But if they wanted to be future warriors of his Pack, they needed to learn young. Werewolf life wasn’t easy. They had many enemies who could attack at any time. Rogue werewolves, hunters, witches, vampires, and rival Packs. His father taught him from a young age to train hard, and he applied the same method to the younger generation of his Pack. The difference was; he didn’t beat them if they failed something.
Every training session, as Mason was beaten until he fought back, his father would tell him the same thing.
Weak werewolves are the first to die. If we can’t protect ourselves, we can’t protect our woman and children.
Mason often quoted him while training his men, because he believed his words to be true. He’d rarely spoke to him outside of training, and despite being bruised and battered, had always listened to him.
His father may have been distant, abusive, but he’d made sure to pass on his fighting skills. Something Mason was grateful for.
At least the bastard did something right. He tried to shove down memories that threatened to rise. There were too many things he didn’t want to dwell on.
As he continued making his way through the forest towards home, he felt Jonas trying to connect with him through the Pack link. He opened up his mind.
What’s up? he asked.
There’s something wrong with Neoma. Mason stopped walking and turned to Jake.
“Take them back.” He gestured to the pups. Jake nodded and signalled for them to follow him. Mason started walking the opposite way towards the prison.
What do you mean by wrong? he asked.
She’s having a fit or something, Jonas answered.
I’ll be there soon. Mason quickened his pace. Worry stirred within him, but he ignored it.
She’s probably just trying to get attention, he thought, shaking his head in annoyance.
It took a few minutes to get to the prison. Mason went straight to Neoma’s cell. She was on the floor curled up in a ball, shuddering, eyes squeezed shut. Jonas was kneeling down next to her. He stood up when Mason neared.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” he said, a frown on his face. Mason knelt down next to her.
“Neoma.” He put his hand on her shoulder. She moaned and opened her eyes. They were watery.
“I...it hurts,” she whimpered.
“What hurts?” Her scent was so strong it was all he could smell. It was hard to concentrate on anything but his hardening cock. It was ridiculous how easy she could affect him. She put her hands to her head and whimpered.
“My head.” Mason pressed his lips together and clenched his fists into tight balls.
“Neoma, I swear if you are playing me...” he left the threat hanging in the air. She was such a good actress he didn’t know if she was faking or not. Her body curled tighter into a ball. Her blonde hair dropped across her face, and he brushed it aside before he could stop himself. Her forehead was soaked with sweat.
“Was she okay before you gave her the wolfbane?” he asked.
“She said she was feeling strange and begged me not to give it to her. She said her body was aching,” Jonas answered.
Wolfbane weakened werewolves, but it didn’t have this sort of effect on them. Not even a double dose like she’d been given.
At the sound of her choked gasp, Mason turned back to her. Her hands flew to her stomach as she jolted forward violently. Her head snapped back, and she screamed so loud it hurt his sensitive ears. His eyes widened as they zoned in on the blood slowly starting to fall from her nose. The coppery smell drifted over him.
“Get Samantha. Tell her to meet me in the medical room at my house,” he ordered. Worry hit him hard. This time he couldn’t ignore it. There was no way she was faking this.
As Jonas left, he scooped Neoma up into his arms. She cried out in protest. Her usually tanned skin was quickly turning white. Her trembling was becoming worse.
“Shush,” he cooed, cradling her in his arms as he stood to his feet. Fuck, she’s hot. Werewolves adapted to the temperature around them, so it wasn’t unusual to for them to feel hot. But Neoma was burning up.
“Please...put me down,” she begged. He shook his head.
“I’m taking you to the Pack doctor.”
***
By the time Mason made it home, Neoma’s shaking had become worse. He descended the stairs down into the large, sterile medical room, and then placed her on top of a medical examination table. The Pack doctor, Samantha, was already waiting for him. She was small and robust, had grey eyes, and blonde hair that was always kept in a severe looking bun. She was eighty seven years old, but because she hadn’t mated she’d stopped her aging at thirty. She was a skilled doctor and had taken care of his Pack for years.
“What’s wrong with her?” Sam asked, rushing over to him. Mason brushed his hand through his hair.
“I don’t know. She said her head hurt.” Sam went to touch Neoma, but stopped when she cried out.
“Don’t touch me,” she shouted, trying to push her away.
“Can you hold her down? I need to check her over,” Sam asked. Mason grabbed Neoma’s hands and held them in his.
“Don’t touch me. It hurts,” Neoma tried to pull her hands free. Mason swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He didn’t like seeing her in pain.
Just as Sam touched her head, Neoma screamed, and her back arched up from off the table. Mason heard something snap. She screamed again.
“Do something,” he shouted. Sam stared down at Neoma with wide, confused eyes.
“This is
the female prisoner?” Mason nodded. “Has she been tortured?” He shook his head.
“No. No one has harmed her. I’ve kept her docile with double doses of wolfbane for the past three days,” he paused, looking up at Sam, “could that cause this?” She shook her head.
“No. Wolfbane doesn’t have this sort of effect on someone.”
“Please...the pain...” Neoma whimpered. Another snapping sound resounded throughout the room, and she screamed again.
“Hold her steady.” Sam lifted Neoma’s top up. Mason placed one hand on her stomach and the other on her shoulder, trying to keep her still. His eyes travelled to her exposed stomach and up. He sucked in a sharp breath at what he saw.
Fuck me. Four of her ribs were sunken in, covered in black bruises.
“Her ribs are broken,” Sam told him. No shit. He could see that. A strangled cry left Neoma’s lips, and she threw her head back against the table. Mason watched in astonishment as her teeth elongated into canines. Blood seeped through her gums.
“Impossible,” he breathed. He looked at Sam for an explanation.
“She is trying to change into her wolf,” she whispered. Mason shook his head.
“She can’t. Not with wolfbane in her system.” Another snap was followed by another cry of pain.
“Her body is trying to change, Mason,” Sam stated, moving across the room quickly. “How old is she?” Mason opened his mouth to answer, and then realised he’d never asked her age. He snapped his mouth shut. Her age was only one of the many things that he didn’t know about her. He looked down, and when her teary eyes connected with his and he saw the pain in them, his heart dropped into his stomach. Shame and guilt assaulted him.
“I’m seventeen,” Neoma revealed, her voice shaky. He inhaled sharply. More guilt swamped him.
“You’re just a pup,” he whispered, sick and a little stunned by this news. She screamed out again as another bone broke. This was bad. Very bad.
“It must be her eighteenth birthday. The moon is forcing her to change for the first time,” Sam said, staring over at Neoma in sympathy. “However, the wolfbane in her system is preventing it. If we can’t stop this, she won’t survive the transformation.” Mason’s heart seemed to stop in his chest. “She won’t have her healing abilities until after she’s turned into her wolf for the first time. Her body is going to tear itself apart from the inside out. It’s why her nose is bleeding. Her organs are trying to shift. Her bones are breaking slowly. She can’t fully shift until the wolfbane is out of her system, and by the time it is, she’ll be dead because she can’t heal,” Sam added, matter-of-factly. The words hit Mason with a heavy blow, and he had to hold himself up using the medical table, or his knees would have buckled. He stared at Sam in awe for a moment, his mind a swirl of different emotions.
“Do something. Stop it,” he ordered, his Alpha voice booming around the room.
Sam looked at him in shock and took a wary step back. “She’s your mate.”
Mason growled. The moon was trying to force Neoma’s wolf out under a heavy dose of wolfbane. He had no time to explain his behaviour. “Stop her from changing,” he barked. Sam swallowed and looked down at Neoma’s trembling form.
“If I give her a strong enough sedative I might be able to knock her wolf out. Put her in a coma until the wolfbane is out of her system,” she explained, pragmatically.
That could work. “Do it,” he demanded. Sam nodded and turned to the medical cabinet behind her, taking the things she needed out. She rushed across the room to him with a syringe in one hand, and a bottle of zopiclone and cotton buds in the other.
“This is a sedative that should put her to sleep. It will also cause depression or tranquilization of the central nervous system. Meaning, it will relax her body during her sleep, and put a stop to her convulsions,” she explained, taking the end of the syringe and plunging it into the metal cap of the bottle. She filled it to the brim.
“Could you hold her arm?” she asked, squirting some of the zopiclone out of the needle. Mason took Neoma’s flailing hands and held them firm. Looking down at his arms, he noticed the bloody cuts and scratches on them. He hadn’t even felt her doing that to him. He turned his attention to Sam, watching as she pushed the needle into a vein on Neoma’s arm. She quickly injected the sedative into her blood stream, and then replaced the needle with a cotton bud.
“Can you hold this until the bleeding stops?” Mason replaced Sam’s hand with his own, and pushed down on the cotton bud, applying enough pressure to stop the bleeding.
“She should start to settle down soon,” Sam stated, walking over to the sink and washing her hands. Mason nodded. It was pure agony having to see his mate go through this. The fact that he was to blame only made it worse.
After a minute, Neoma’s movements slowed and her cries turned into small whimpers. Once her breathing started to even out, he released his hold on her hands, and pulled the bloody cotton bud away to reveal a small, red pinprick on her arm. He stroked the side of her face softly, and watched her eyes begin to flutter shut. A minute later, she fell to sleep.
“It worked,” he breathed out in relief, “how long will the sedative keep her out?” Sam pursed her lips.
“A few days. The wolfbane should be out of her system by then. She’ll most likely shift as she wakes up. Only then will her broken ribs heal, but the change will be more painful.”
Mason nodded. He’d have to figure out how to deal with Neoma’s shift when the time came. All he cared about now was making sure she was alright. He gently picked her up.
“Thank you, Sam.” He left the medical room and took Neoma upstairs to his bedroom, and placed her down on the middle of his silk covered bed. He just couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone in the cell. Man and wolf were on edge now. He needed her close to make sure she was okay.
The fact that she could have died had scared him more than he’d liked to admit. Things were really starting to get complicated. Giving her up just might be harder than he thought.
Fuck fate. Because fate had surely fucked him.
Chapter Twelve.
Neoma.
Pain. Searing hot pain. It was the only thing Neoma could feel. Her lungs felt tight. She could barely breathe. A scream worked its way up her throat but couldn’t break out. The very blood that was running through her veins had been replaced by liquid fire, licking her insides with a merciless hunger. The muscles in her body contracted painfully, as if someone was squeezing them, invisible hands that kept applying pressure. She could feel something clawing at her skull, scarping its sharp nails from within, trying desperately to break free. She opened her eyes, but then closed them again. It was too bright. She couldn’t see.
“How long has she been like this?” Was that a woman’s voice? The drumming in her ears made it difficult to tell.
“She woke up an hour ago and it started right away.” Even in her painful state the husky, velvety, alluring voice drew her in and soothed her aching body, but not nearly enough. She was vaguely aware of hands on her, stroking, setting flame to her skin. She was confused, unaware of her surroundings, and couldn’t for the life of her concentrate for longer than a second to figure out what was happening to her.
“Are you sure the wolfbane is out of her system?” The male with the alluring voice spoke with uncertainty.
“She’s was out for two days. So she’s clear of it. Her broken ribs are why she’s changing so slowly,” the woman answered. Neoma wanted to scream at them to explain what was happening to her, but she couldn’t form any words. The only thing that came from her was a guttural cry. Did that really come from me? She was shocked by how animalistic it sounded.
A fresh wave of pain tore through her like a hurricane. She curled up into a ball, holding her ribs as the horrendous pain ripped through them. She felt a snap. Then a crack. This time she managed to scream.
“Finally,” the man sighed. He sounded happy she was in pain. A sudden rage filled her, and she lif
ted her arm to lash out at him with a vicious snarl.
“Careful, Mason. She isn’t in her right mind at the moment. The pain is making her see you as a threat,” the woman stated.
More pain struck her body. This time it felt like a hammer had been taken to her arms and legs, causing them to snap with a disgusting cracking sound. Something sharp stabbed the inside of her mouth, filling it with blood. She gagged and choked, squeezing her eyes tighter together. At that moment, pain was her life. It was all consuming. She was rendered useless, and could do nothing but embrace it, and let the fingers of darkness pull at her.
She was dying. She was sure of it.
Mason.
Mason’s face had turned completely pale watching Neoma during her first shift. He felt sick to his stomach seeing her squirm in pain. She’d started changing as soon as she’d opened her eyes, waking from her two day sleep. He’d wasted no time in picking her up and carrying her quickly to the forest. It was the best place for her. The call of the forest would have been strong within her anyway, so he’d thought it best to have her change there.
“You should go, Sam,” he said, quietly, not daring to take his eyes of the small, white, furry wolf lying down in front of him. She was panting heavily, letting out small whimpers.
“Let me know if you need me,” Sam murmured. As soon as she left, Mason wasted no time in removing his clothes, and then swiftly changing into his large, brown wolf. No pain came with his change because it was too quick to feel anything. Pain only ever came during the first few shifts. Being an Alpha, he was a few inches bigger than normal werewolves.