by A. Z. Green
“Let's take a walk,” he said in his deep, baritone voice, with a stab of frost. It wasn't a suggestion, it was a command.
Jaz scowled at him.
He's not my leader.
“No,” she argued. It was quiet but it was full of determination.
He examined her for a moment, weighing out his options -though to her eyes his expression was completely deadpanned, giving nothing but seeing everything. She tried not to shiver in the cold rain. It kept getting in her eyes and she forced herself not to fully blink so she could beat him at the staring contest.
Instead, he changed tactics.
He marched forward, not looking at the others who were gaping at him- Jaz included- as he lunged for her, grabbed her wrist and half-pulled, half-dragged her through the forest.
“Get off me!” she yelped and kicked out at him.
There was the sound of gasps from behind her and she continued to kick and yank away and thump him with her free hand. He didn't make any sign of being hurt. He swung his body round to face her with a warning look. She stopped a millisecond in surprise and then yanked back again. Rather than pull her to him again, he let go and she fell back, landing flat on her back in the mud. She grunted and held back the urge to moan in disgust as the squelchy sludge oozed in between her fingers and on the bare skin of her lower back. She sat up and glowered up at him as the rain pounded down on her face.
An amused, faint smile played on his lips.
She growled. Actually growled and his expression froze for half a second. She then gasped, staring at him in shock from the sound that had come out of her mouth. He used that moment to grab her and heave her over his shoulder. She started kicking again, yelling at him to let go of her.
He strode quickly into the woods, far enough to be out of earshot while she wriggled in his grasp. “I can walk myself!” she snapped and as she wriggled, he let go of her. She managed to land on her feet though her ankle bones jingled unpleasantly. And then she stormed off. Not getting far when his big hand landed on her shoulder. She spun round.
He was surprised by the venom in her eyes. “What happened?” he demanded harshly.
Her glare eased a little. “You lied to me,” she said in a low, empty voice.
“What are you talking about?” he insisted, wishing he could wipe the pain from her eyes.
“When were you going to tell me... Nik?” His dark eyes penetrated hers. She waited for some reaction but he gave her nothing. Inside the man's stomach was reeling. “Why didn't you tell me you were Lora's husband?” She interrogated. He said nothing. “She was having your baby! The same baby I felt die inside of me!” This really bothered him, but he still managed to hide it. “You, the father of my sister's child, and the Pack Leader! And you kept it from me!?”
“You weren't ready to hear it.”
“Don't you dare! You lied to me!”
He glared at her defensively. “I never lied to you, I just didn't tell you.”
“Don't use that - 'not telling me isn't the same as lying to me,' crap, 'cos it is! Keeping something from someone and lying to them, are the same thing!”
“I was just trying to protect you!” he barked, his voice cracked the air like a whip.
“That's the problem! You protect me when I don't need it, and you don't protect me when I do!”
He frowned and observed her carefully for a long moment. “Why? Do you need protecting?” he asked with concern.
Jaz gazed at him, speechless. She hadn't predicted this reaction. She saw the inexplainable suffering sweep fleetingly across his face, then a strong emotion burning behind his eyes. She didn't understand it but she felt the power of it and it made her lose her trail of thought. “I-I...”
“I will always be there to keep you safe, no matter what.” He was deadly serious. But she couldn't believe him.
But where were you this week? Through all the fevers, and harassment and the loneliness that I never felt when I was with you?
She didn't want to believe it but she had to be honest with herself... she'd really wanted him there. When she'd been ill and when Fraya had made her suffer, she'd thought only of him. Imagined him flying in to save the day.
It was stupid. He was her brother-in-law. And her kidnapper, and her prison guard. He wasn't her friend, he was a stranger to her.
Part of her stuck by that premise. The other part felt the complete opposite.
Jaz wanted to cry but fortunately, she didn't. She'd been humiliated enough.
Something was prying open through her throat trying to form into words. If she was going to bring it up, now was as good a time as any. “Why did you put me in your room?” she questioned dubiously. She caught a flicker in his eyes and knew she'd hit a nerve. “Was it just because you felt sorry for me?” Her retort was acidic.
Driver glowered at her and Jaz balked for the first time, her anger laying way for common sense.
Do not piss this guy off.
“No,” he snarled, “I did not.”
She regarded him for a moment. “Yeah, right,” she muttered and turned to walk away.
He caught her and gripped her arms, swinging her around to face his fiery eyes. “I didn't do it because I felt sorry for you -you can take damn good care of yourself. That excuse is bullshit and you know it! You're just using it as a cop out because you're too scared to face the truth. You know why and it terrifies you.” He said hotly, passionately.
Her chest became heavy. “Let go of me,” her voice was a befuddled whisper.
The fire between them was so intense, so immense, she could feel it igniting her skin.
It was more than just the anger they were feeling, and though she had never experienced anything like it, she knew sexual tension was the culprit. She couldn't stop it. His dark eyes watched her, seeing her confusion as she languished and lusted for the man that right at that moment, she hated.
It intensified to such a point it began to scold on the outside. Her skin was scorching hot. Her whole body was on fire. She touched her hand to her forehead and flinched as it toasted her hand. She blew a gust of air out between her lips. “Is it me or is it hot?” she mumbled indistinctly.
Driver without hesitation placed his hand on her forehead, making a face when the heat burned him. He kept his hand there anyway. It was cool. Any other time Jaz would have slapped his hand away.
She feared her brain would bake inside her skull. That her organs would roast and she'd die an agonizing death. It only got worse. It was more painful than any other fever or illness she had experienced.
From being nothing to a horrible torment, it had only taken ten seconds. She couldn't contain it anymore and involuntarily winced, letting out a tiny suppressed moan. Driver loosened his grip on her arm, frowning at her with concern. He removed his hand from her head. When the coolness disappeared, replaced with fire, that's when she fully realized he'd touched her.
“You're feverish.”
She closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head. Stabbing pains shot up and down her arms and legs and she cringed. She shook her head again.
No, this was something else.
“I need to go,” she muttered.
He let go of her. Before he could stop her, she turned and sprinted, trying to get as far away from him, desperate to get back to the cabin so she could scream her guts out.
He held back, giving her some space and then slowly tailed behind at a distance. He pulled out his phone from his jeans' pocket and dialled Edda's number.
Jaz ran, powering her limbs to move with the last of her strength. She panted crazily.
No one was out in the fields now that the rain was gushing down in buckets.
Her arms throbbed. The bones felt like they were being crushed by a vice. Her fingers contracted into fists and then opened out into stiff claws unable to soften. Every muscle in her body cramped and she bit down on her lip to muffle her cries.
She stumbled into the cabin and collapsed on the floor, dripping wet and
muddy. She turned over on her back and suddenly began to spasm out of control. She shrieked loudly, tucking her arms into her chest, trying to stop the shaking. But it was no use. She got worse.
It was agony. Her muscles seared and writhed.
All her bones felt so compressed by an invisible grip she was sure they'd snap.
The door was wide open and the rain was pounding against the wooden roof and outside on the grass. She focused on a puddle on the ground, trying to work her way through the shakes and the inexplicable pain.
A figure appeared in front of her as it rushed through the door; her eyesight blurred and then refocused.
Edda was standing over her, anxiety lining her wet face. “It's okay, Jaz. Your body is preparing for the Change. Don't fight it.”
The sound of a blood-chilling howl as if someone was being tortured, filled the air. Jaz felt the vibrations in her throat and then realized it was hers.
~Chapter 22- Recollect~
Saturday March 8th, 2008
Lora was sitting in the library, immersing herself in the adventures of Sabriel by Garth Nix. She liked fantasy, sci-fi and adventure best. They were the dreamworld of all genres. A place you could truly escape to. A whole new world.
That was her intention.
She'd always been told what she was. What her family was. But she had never seen it for herself. Her parents had been quite private about how they looked when they Changed into Were form. She had never seen one for herself, only in her mind from what they'd described them to be like. It had never prepared her for the terrifying moment she'd stared into the eyes of the real thing.
She was eighteen years old. And she already felt like her life was over. In fact in some ways it really was. She couldn't pretend to be normal anymore. And it was only made worse by all of her other problems.
She took refuge in the vast collection of books the community stored in their enormous library. It stood facing the forest to the east. She liked gazing into the dense green carpet, reading stories about witches, necromancers, brave kings and strong heroines and heroes. She used to like reading the dark Gothic stuff. Frankenstein and Dracula. Anything with vampires or werewol... well, not anymore. Not when it was mocking her from the pages. Laughing in her face. It would take some time before she could find any enjoyment in those particular genres.
She had gotten past the self-loathing very early on but the fear was constantly alight within her.
She knew it was coming. And soon. She could feel it.
Her muscles ached. The spasms were so intense she couldn't control them or predict them until the last second. That was dangerous. She used to have more warning. But when you have fevers more times than not, it's hard to judge. Unless you were experienced.
She was no expert. She was a Cub. A Seedling. Nicknames for a newborn Were. She shivered, grasping the hardback in her hands until the paper dug into her fingers.
The only thing that made her feel safe, and even at times, proud, of what she was or would soon officially become, was Nik. She hadn't known him long. Barely a month. But she could already feel a connection. He was the one. She could feel it in her very bones. In her core.
Her friend Sunhild had once told her that her overwhelming feelings for him could be a strong sign they were potential mated pairs.
Lora had spent enough late night hours discussing this topic with her father to know that the whole concept of the 'bond' was relative. That like humans, two people could feel a strong connection to each other, sometimes instantly but it didn't mean they were immediately in love with each other or that they ever would be. The feeling of the 'bond' was probably where the term 'soul mate' came from.
The status of a 'mate' in Were speak in general was the same as being a husband or wife. Being a 'potential mate' was something rather different and much more complicated. It was when two people had the potential to become like one person, knowing each others moods and feelings in a way no one else could. Being aware of their presence in a crowded room amongst other things. If they were sad or angry, their mate would sense it to a point of feeling the emotion themselves.
Because of Weres particular ability to sense emotions in others, the 'bond' is considered sacred and taken much more seriously than humans acknowledge the idea of soul mates.
Being a 'bonded mate' is the term when those two potential mates get together and consummate the relationship, becoming official mates. That was the difficult and -perhaps for some- relieving part about the whole thing. Just because they can be your mate, doesn't make it set in stone. Lora wished it was, so she knew for sure Nik would feel the same way. That she could claim him as hers and no one would dare touch him.
If only she didn't have feelings for the one man that had a demon lingering over him like a storm cloud over the earth, waiting precariously to strike whatever tree happened to be rooted into it, with lightening.
Nik is the earth, and I'm the tree. The storm cloud/demon is Fraya Hummel.
Lora couldn't imagine getting along with her even if Fraya wasn't so jealous and bitter because Lora was getting to the one man she couldn't.
Nik had never taken any real interest in Fraya, though she'd had a long-lasting desire for him since not long after her own partner, Thor, had died. Lora had never met him or his family. He'd died before she'd moved here. He'd been from a different Pack, but from what she'd heard, he had been a good man.
It made Lora wonder how someone as messed-up as Fraya could have gotten an apparently great man like Thor? She'd always wondered if perhaps Fraya hadn't always been like this. It was the only thing stopping her from going straight to Nik and complaining about her. That and the fact she wasn't the type to complain about anyone. She thought it made her a grass and people would dislike her for it.
She'd met Fraya the second day she'd arrived. She'd been very welcoming and friendly to her but things had changed very swiftly after that. Looking back, Lora suspected it had happened some time after Lora had seen the Weres in true form one night. The shock had overwhelmed her. Though the community had been supportive and understanding about it she couldn't shake her terror. Outwardly she'd learnt to repress it. Only Nik had been able to see the wariness in her eyes though he never mentioned it.
After that awkward start, Nik had took it upon himself to show her the ropes. He took her out at night, spending hours -days- talking to her about the Change, the process, anything she wanted to know. He answered her questions with patience. He'd even shown her how he Changed.
It had shocked and paralyzed her with consuming fear but she never uttered it to him. He could smell it on her of course, but he'd felt so grateful and appreciative of her immense effort to hide her fears from him, simply because she didn't want to cause offense. When he'd witnessed that, and how she'd moved on as if nothing had changed, no matter what was going on inside her head, it was at that moment, when he'd first ever Changed in front of her, that he fell in love with her.
He'd told her that himself. And the knowledge soon spread. Quicker than wild fire, though Lora never knew how.
And then Fraya had turned into her own personal, walking nightmare. Following her, teasing her. She had even attacked her when Lora had happened to be walking alone after just meeting up with Nik. Fraya had thought they'd been sleeping together- though they hadn't at that time, they did eventually. Fraya knew it, and though she wasn't sure it had happened then, it had still infuriated her.
The rage her jealousy unleashed had been absolutely terrifying and Lora had frozen, only just having enough time to curl up into a foetal position before Fraya had kicked and punched her anger out on her.
Lora had been bruised and sore for two weeks. She still had faint bruises on her back. She'd never told Nik, though there were times she'd wanted to scream it at him. And times when he'd look at her, as if about to ask her something, and then changing his mind.
Why didn't she tell him? Well she was scared for one thing. Fraya had threatened if she did, she'd do much worse to he
r. And she believed her every word.
Today, Fraya had made the mistake of catching Lora in the face just as Lora had tried to dodge her and it had left a nasty mark. She couldn't hide that from Nik. So she had escaped to the library, sinking in and out of her 'Sabriel' novel, contemplating when she should go and see him. He made that decision for her by finding her there.
She was the only one there. It was getting dark, and she was perched on the window sill, her feet up on the chair by the desk. The desk lamp was on and he spotted it before he saw her.
She tried to hide her left side from his sight but the low light from the window and the brighter glow of the lamp exaggerated it.
The moment his eyes fell on her face; her cheek and brow bloody -even after she'd dabbed it with a wet cloth- and inflamed, he swore and demanded her to tell him what had happened.
She didn't want to lie to him, but she couldn't tell him who had done it. She still in her heart felt sorry for Fraya. And knew Fraya had been in trouble before for being violent, though she wasn't clear on the details. Her lover, Thor's, death had really affected her and though they'd been understanding before, the council wouldn't allow another mess up like this. Nik would see to that.
All she had to do was say 'Fraya did this to me' and the violent Were would be out of the Pack just like that. No more attacks, verbal or physical. No more hiding and fearing dark corners. She'd be free of her. But the pathetic thing was, she didn't want to be responsible for Fraya being booted out of her own home. She'd go off the rails for sure and Lora feared if that happened, she'd somehow come back and out of pure vengeance rather than just jealousy, she'd do more than knock her about.
She'd kill her.
So in reply she said, “I'm not going to lie to you and say I fell. I could have, but I respect you too much.” Nik looked at her with his dark green eyes burning into hers. She waited and then spoke again, “Someone hit me. Not a man. They've done it more than once. But I can handle it. And if you respect me as much as I do you, you won't ask me who and you'll leave it be. You just have to trust me on this.”