Wolfish: Mateborne

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Wolfish: Mateborne Page 8

by G. K. DeRosa

I slowly rose, clenching the envelope in my fist. “I need a minute in private.” Turning to Cass, I said, “Can you get Braxton a drink or whatever he wants while you guys wait?”

  “Sure, no problem.” Cass bounced up to her feet, her animated words echoing behind me as I walked to my room.

  Hunter trailed my silent footsteps. When I reached the door, he stopped. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  I pressed the letter to my chest once again. “I think I need to do this alone.”

  A twinge of disappointment dribbled through the bond, but it vanished a second later as my mate put on a brave face. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

  “Thank you.” I rose to my tiptoes and swept my lips against his scruffy cheek. As I stepped into my bedroom, I couldn’t help but think maybe there’d been a reason we hadn’t completed the bond yet. What if I really was meant to be with this Braxton guy?

  My heart ached, and my wolf let out an annoyed snarl at my stray thought. No. Hunter was it for me. This had to be some sort of mistake.

  I bellyflopped onto my bed and ripped open the envelope before I chickened out. My eyes settled on the messy black scrawling, as if my dad had been in a hurry when he’d written it. Hot tears filled my eyes as I imagined the father I never knew, the father who tried so hard to protect me, but ultimately failed.

  * * *

  My darling Sierra,

  Writing this letter tears me up inside. I hope to all the gods that I never have to deliver it, and that the persecution of the Mystics comes to an end, but that seems unlikely at this point. And so, my best friend, my beta, Hanson, and I have come up with a plan. We’re escaping to the human world in hopes of raising our children in safety. If all goes to hell and the Mystics truly are wiped out, at least the two of you will remain. When the time is right, you’ll find each other, and it’ll be up to you to repopulate the Mystic line. You’re an alpha, my sweet girl, and as such it’s your duty to protect your pack. I have no doubt you’ll be a fearless leader like I was, and your grandfather before me. Hanson is a good man, and I know his son, Braxton, will be one as well. Together, you’ll make things right for the Mystics. Just be careful and remain hidden as long as you can. Once the other packs know of your survival, they will come for you, for both of you. Good luck, my darling. I love you.

  * * *

  Let the goddess guide and keep you safe,

  Love always, Dad

  * * *

  I choked on a sob as I read the letter again and again. I could feel his pain, his guilt for abandoning me, even in death. How could I ignore his dying request, not a fated mate but a strategic betrothal? How could I forsake my own pack?

  Oh gods, this was going to kill me. How could I choose?

  “Sierra…” Hunter’s muffled voice at the door sent my heart on a tailspin. “Are you okay? Can I come in?”

  I stuffed the letter back in the envelope, slid it in my back pocket and called out, “Yeah, come in.”

  At the doorway, Hunter stared down at me from beneath hooded lids. He might not have known exactly what the letter said, but he’d felt my reaction to it. The misery was written across his face. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” he finally uttered.

  I nodded slowly.

  He sat beside me and cracked his knuckles before clenching them into tight fists. With his gaze fixed to his boots, he whispered, “Do you feel something for him? Like you do for me?”

  “No!” I cried out. “Absolutely not.”

  Relief loosened the tense set of his jaw, and he lifted his eyes to mine. Flashes of gold streaked across the deep green. “So Braxton’s not your mate?”

  “He’s not my fated mate, not my other half, like you. My father and his were close, and they set up an arrangement. They hid us in the human world separately and planned for us to eventually meet.” I paused and swallowed hard. “To repopulate the Mystic pack.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he growled and shot up. Golden flames lit up his irises as he stalked the length of my bed. “We don’t know anything about this guy, Sierra. He could’ve fabricated this whole story.”

  “He could have but—”

  Hunter cut me off before I finished the sentence. “My father could’ve sent him. He could just be here to tear us apart, to distract us.”

  His panic surged through the bond, the intensity like iron bands around my chest. He was terrified of losing me. The realization ricocheted through my mind and filled my breaking heart. He couldn’t even love me and still he felt my possible loss so deeply.

  I rose and stood in front of him, halting his manic pacing. Squeezing his hands, I brought them between us, pressing my body against his. “Hunter, you’re not going to lose me. I swear to you, I’ll never leave you.” I cupped his cheek, running my thumb across the soft stubble. He slowly released a breath, and the terror receded.

  Rising to my tiptoes, I brushed my lips against his. “I love you. You are my mate and even if this guy proves to be legit, I’m yours. Forever.”

  He squeezed me tight against his chest until the quiet fury waned. His wolf settled, and his eyes returned to their normal hue. “You’re mine,” he echoed. “I can’t lose you. I have nothing, I am nothing without you, without your love. I can almost feel it through the bond, seeping into the empty void in my chest.”

  Hot tears pricked at my eyes once again. I couldn’t leave him. I’d have to find another way to save the Mystics. “Maybe there are more of us hidden somewhere,” I blurted.

  Hunter stared back at me, his brows knitted. “You think there are more Mystics in hiding?”

  My head bobbed up and down. “If two of us escaped, there could be more. Maybe that’s what Sonia was trying to get out of my mom. Maybe she knew there were more.”

  “Maybe.” His lips puckered as if he’d tasted something foul before he turned to the door. “Let’s go deal with your arranged mate. I want to find out if he really is a Mystic. The sooner we know the truth the better.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “So much for running away…” I glanced up at Hunter as he tossed the javelin from hand to hand.

  He grunted, fingering the pointy end. “Maybe I had it right in the beginning. It sure as hell seems like the goddess is throwing every possible obstacle in our way. Maybe she doesn’t want us to be together after all.”

  Hunter had performed the ritual pack test, and the results had been positive. Braxton was definitely a Mystic. Whatever magic had been cloaking him for all these years, must have been broken when he learned of my survival. My mate was still skeptical about the guy, but as of now, he seemed legit.

  I dropped the spear I was training with and marched toward Hunter, planting my hands on my hips. “You’re not serious, are you? After everything we’ve been through, you’re going to let a little arranged mating stop us?”

  His fingers tightened around the pole, his knuckles white from the strain. “No, I’m not. I just—I didn’t realize we were fighting fate too.”

  With a quick glance around the arena, I wrapped my arms around his waist and lifted to my tiptoes. I pressed my lips against his for a speedy kiss and backed off before the audience noticed. “Fate, shmate. We’re going to kick fate’s ass because we make our own destiny.”

  The ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as he regarded me.

  “No kissing before the event, you two.” Viceroy sauntered over with a javelin clenched in each fist. “On second thought, as you were. The more distracted the great alpha heir, the better.” He chuckled as his dark gaze roamed over me. “Not that I blame you at all, Aristaeus, if Sierra was warming my bed, I may even consider monogamy.”

  “Watch your tongue,” Hunter snapped.

  The Demon’s forked tongue slipped out, tasting the air as a huge grin split his lips. “Good luck today,” he said as he turned away to join the others.

  According to the clock at the top of the arena, we only had a few more minutes of practice before the trial began. Hunter assured me this was a fairly easy
one. A display of the Lunar Packs’ special powers more than anything. We’d perform a series of Olympic-type events like javelin throwing, archery, the long jump, and so on. But all bets were off, and we were allowed free use of our powers since this was a Lunars-only event. Points were awarded for accuracy and flare.

  Hopefully, my magical powers would play nice since I didn’t think the attendants would let me hold Hunter’s hand for the duration of the event.

  One could wish…

  A short buzzer rang, and I followed Hunter to join the line of assembled Lunars. The arena had been set up with a whole slew of fun obstacles, and it was clear which ones would play to our powers and which would be a hindrance. The winged competitors had an edge on anything that dealt with climbing or jumping, while the vampire hybrids would excel in the speed and agility trials. It was yet to be seen what I could do with my fickle magic.

  As these were individual assessments, Hunter couldn’t help me like the times before. The attendant dressed in white waved a hand, drawing our attention. “There are six stations as you can see, which means you’ll be paired up and rotate around the arena. Points will be given for each event based on speed, accuracy, etcetera, but also on degree of difficulty and powers used. We’re here for the show today, lady and gentlewolves.”

  The crowd burst into laughter, and a rush of applause filled the arena.

  “Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” Zuriel elbowed me in the ribs, the immense wolf-angel hybrid nearly knocking me over with a nudge.

  “I’m sure it’ll be super fun,” I deadpanned. From what I’d learned in the trials so far, nothing was as easy as it seemed. I glanced across the line of competitors and froze on my former friend. Ransom was on the complete opposite side, likely avoiding me and my mate. After Hunter’s threats last time, I doubted he’d ever come near me again. I couldn’t help the pang of hurt that assaulted my chest. His betrayal stung a hundred times more than Tyrien’s outright cruelty. He’d never pretended to be anything but a tyrant, but Ransom…

  My internal musings were cut off when the attendant pointed at me, then at the station marked with a three. Standing beside it was Canyon, one of the faery wolves. His long, silver hair was tied in a topknot on the base of his head. He barely suppressed an eyeroll as the attendant directed me toward him.

  “Good luck,” said Hunter.

  “Thanks, I’ll need it.” Before I marched off to meet my trial buddy, I called out over my shoulder, “Which court is he from?” That way I’d at least know what sort of elemental power to expect.

  “Summer.”

  Oh great, just what I needed, sweltering heat. Reluctantly, I turned toward station three as Hunter headed to the complete opposite end of the arena. So much for channeling my mate’s power to ignite my mercurial magic.

  Stomping to my designated starting location, I ignored Canyon’s hateful stare. Why were the faery wolves such stuck-up dickheads anyway? First North tried to drive a pack of gorabora demons straight for me and now Canyon’s blistering glare shot daggers in my direction.

  “Why do you hate me?” I blurted once I reached him.

  His nostrils crinkled as if he’d smelled something rotten before crossing his arms over his chest. His snooty little nose remained high in the air when he answered, “I don’t care enough about you to hate you.”

  Ouch.

  “Well, there’s gotta be something. You and North aren’t half as rude to the others as you are to me.”

  A flame flickered across his mossy green eyes. “If I tell you, will you stop yammering on incessantly?”

  Ouch, again. Geez, this guy really was an alpha-hole. “Sure will,” I bit out.

  “It was the Mystics. Their powers were out of control and the other packs started to fear all of us magic users. The Court of Wolves suffered unfair treatment due to your pack’s inability to reel in their abilities. Before the Mystics vanished, more than a few had delved into their dark powers and chaos reigned. It’s something I never want to see happen again.”

  Vanished? Didn’t he mean exterminated? No one ever talked about what Tyrien did, but I was fairly certain everyone knew the truth.

  “Well, I’m the only one left,” I said, “and I have no desire to go all dark and creepy. So try to turn down the unbridled hatred a notch, huh?”

  He grunted and walked to the other end of the station. A hint of unease swirled in my gut. What would the other packs say when they found out about Braxton? One Mystic wolf was one thing, but two… Two meant procreation. If the others found out, would I find myself with more enemies than just Tyrien?

  I needed to talk to Hunter about this. We had to make sure Braxton stayed hidden for as long as possible. Or better yet, send him back to the human world where he came from. And yet, a tiny part of me wasn’t ready to let him go. I couldn’t deny the connection I’d felt yesterday, and I needed to understand it.

  “Competitors take your places!” The voice rang out over the arena, and I forced my meandering thoughts to the games. After my discussion with Canyon and all my mental wanderings, I’d never focused on what we were actually doing for this event.

  I glanced at the tarp over the ground and suddenly realized why. A sharp keening sound assaulted my eardrums and the cover rolled away, revealing the pit of quicksand below. A narrow beam ran across the length of the massive hole and all the saliva evaporated from my mouth.

  The one obstacle we hadn’t been able to practice on because they didn’t want us disturbing the quicksand. Now, I had to balance across the veritable tightrope or risk suffocating in a pit of sand.

  Awesome.

  Gods, who came up with this stuff?

  Canyon moved to the foot of the pit, his light eyes assessing the obstacle. How could his summer elemental magic help him in this one? How could my own? Unless I could figure out how to conjure up some wings, I was pretty screwed.

  He shot me a sneer and motioned at the narrow beam. “Ladies, first.”

  “I don’t think so.” I took a step back, folding my arms across my chest. “You were chosen first, so it’s only fair you give it the first go.”

  “What’s the matter, not so brave without your mate to protect you?”

  Anger expanded in my core as the cheeky bastard snickered at me. Sure, he wasn’t a hundred percent wrong, but still. “Just go before I turn you into a toad or something.”

  He scoffed, pointing a slender finger at me. “You know what I’ve heard, little witch? That you don’t even have full control of your powers, that you never did. That doesn’t bode well for you for the remainder of the competition.”

  Another stab of betrayal pierced my chest. No one knew about my faulty powers except Hunter and Ransom. I knew my mate would never spill, but Ransom… Bastard! Squeezing my eyes shut, I focused on my wolf. She stirred beneath my skin. Without even a tiny crack of bone or stretching of skin, my human form disappeared, and my wolf stood in its place, a swirl of violet mist coiling around my hairy paws.

  Take that faery effer! My wolf snarled at him, pinning her ears back.

  Canyon’s eyes bulged out as he processed my instantaneous shift. No wolf could pull that off.

  In the space of a heartbeat, I shifted back to my human form with a massive smile across my face. “How’s that for magic, faery boy?”

  He muttered a curse and moved closer to the slender timber, obviously eager to get away from me, even if that meant a treacherous fall.

  Good riddance.

  Canyon took a step, then another and the thin beam shuddered beneath his weight. Compared to the other wolves, he was fairly normal sized. Both faeries had inherited their Fae brethren’s lithe forms. How would Hunter make it across? Oh, right, I’d almost forgotten about his freakin’ dragon wings.

  Turning my attention back to Canyon’s advance across the pit, I couldn’t deny the twinge of envy at his graceful stride. He flitted over the gaping hole like a prima ballerina. He hadn’t even had to use his elemental powers, his Fae physique was
made for a trial like this.

  He landed on the other side a few seconds later, total time less than a minute. There was no way I’d manage a repeat performance.

  You can do this. Hunter’s words bounced around my skull as if he’d felt my blossoming anxiety. Likely he had.

  What if I fall? I shot back as I eyed the churning sand.

  I promise I won’t let you.

  That’s a pretty big promise. You think you’re that fast?

  His growl reverberated through my own chest. Fine, if you do fall, I promise I’ll get you out before you go under. How’s that?

  Seems more feasible.

  Now his smooth chuckle invaded my insides, filling my heart with happiness. You can do it. I’ll be watching you.

  I took a step onto the wobbly wooden plank and inhaled a calming breath. Channeling my wolf’s agility, I placed one foot in front of the other. The timber wobbled but held and a dribble of sweat snaked down my back. The quicksand caught my eye, and a lead rock sank to the pit of my stomach. I teetered for a second, but my arms shot out for balance.

  Okay, okay, I can do this. Another step and another and I was halfway across.

  Movement along the edge of the pit caught my eye. Canyon’s fingers splayed out, and a beam of sunlight shot from his palm. I barely had time to register what was happening as the fiery streak zipped an inch from my nose.

  “What the hell?” I shouted, my arms shooting out on either side of me once again. I barely kept my balance this time.

  “I’m just trying to give the audience a show,” he answered, an eerie calm in his voice.

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Yes, I can. This is a display of our mystical talents. No one said they had to be merely defensive skills.”

  I eyed the attendant in the middle of the arena, eyes pleading. He slowly shook his head and shrugged. That definitely should’ve been pointed out in the beginning. That was the sort of thing Ransom usually kept me apprised of.

  Another flare shot across the pit, grazing my hand. I let out a squeal as the fiery heat singed my flesh. Son of an effin’ faery! Cradling my wounded hand, I darted across the beam. At this point, a dip in the quicksand might have been better than third-degree burns.

 

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